#and in between the counting i found my mind drifting sort of aimlessly

[everysongineverykey]

very pleased to report that i tried literally counting sheep last night and got my first full night's sleep in like a week in a long period of sleepless nights!!

#not sure if i should say 'this works guys!' because while it worked for me #i'm not sure if it'll work for everyone #but yeah! focusing on counting sheep gave my mind one thought to focus on #so it could drown all the others out! much more effective than just trying to 'think of nothing' which i CANNOT do #and as i got further i began spacing out the counting. i listened to my heartbeat #and after like ten beats i'd count the next sheep #and in between the counting i found my mind drifting sort of aimlessly #vague noise i wasn't fully consciously thinking of #which i think is generally a good sign for me. cause i'm losing control of my thought processes and slipping into dreaming #but every time i'd count another sheep it was fascinating. #'one hundred and sixty sheep' and just like that the background noise was all gone. and my mind was quiet again. wow. #anyway i had a full dream for the first time in a while. my cousin was there. i missed school by accident and was disappointed. #love you all💙 sweet dreams and restful nights on planet earth even though it's ten am for me

[lavandermin]

from sea of flowers, garden of eternity | xiao

pairing | xiao/reader

word count | 2k

genre | pwp, fluff, light angst, brief smut

note | glaze lily spirit reader, you are also in perpetual pain I’m sorry

“Xiao…” he hears your voice meekly call.

The adeptus is already on his feet before you can fully enter the room, his eyes quickly focused on you. He scans your body language diligently, looking for signs of pain or discomfort. It’s become a routine by now.

“Are you…?” His voice trails off when you shake your head apologetically. The slight strain in your smile doesn’t go unnoticed by him.

“I’m alright for now. The pains haven’t started yet. I think I’m set for another few hours, a day if I’m lucky,” you reassure him. “I just— wanted to check on you.”

Xiao gives you a blank look, one you recognize as confusion. “Check… on me…?”

“Just to see how you’re doing,” you clarify with a shy smile. As you make your way to sit on the bed, you gently pat the space next to you.

There’s a slight red upon his cheeks as he chooses to take up your invitation. The bed dips under his weight, and words do not need to be spoken to know both your minds drift briefly to past trysts that took place where you sit.

“I’m heading out to patrol the area in an hour. If you need anything at all, speak my name,” Xiao announces quietly. It’s a brief awkward silence as he rigidly sits next to you—tense almost. You answer him with a simple nod, hands absentmindedly rubbing little circles on your legs to ease the tingles of pain that slowly resurfaced.

Conversation was scarce the past few months you were placed into his watchful guard. The relationship you both harbored was a blurred line you tried not to think about too much for fear of over-complicating it.

And with your entire being, you could say you came to the unfortunate doom of falling in love with him. The emotional distance he kept oftentimes only confused you as much as your own emotions left him puzzled and a little flustered.

He kept you alive. That was the simplicity of the details Xiao was given. Perhaps it was a favor he was doing you, but he diligently carried it out with all the steadfastness of a contract bestowed onto him by the former Lord of Geo.

—

“I’m sure you are aware of the situation near Qingce Village,” Zhongli had brought up upon summoning Xiao several moons after the stirrings of a slumbering god.

Though the situation was previously dire, all was settled—Xiao knew this as a fact, for he was the one that swiftly took care of the aftermath of a dormant god’s power seeping through the earth. So, the battle hadn’t ended then…

“I was careless—“

Zhongli cut him off, carefully setting down his cup in its saucer. “On the contrary, this was in no way able to be foreseen by you. The world has a way of ending and raising new questions, just as easily as it provides answers to those who seek them.”

On the small garden table, Zhongli’s eyes trail to the glaze lily that sits in a small decorative vase. Unlike most, this lone flower is fully bloomed despite the time of day. It glows ever so slightly—weakly almost.

“You are aware that glaze lilies grow in the Qingce area, and there are a few wild outcroppings that shy away from prying eyes,” Zhongli starts.

His gloved finger reaches out to tenderly graze the petals, and at once the flower closes up. The petals take on a dullness, and visibly they start to wilt in small patches.

“The reasons are uncertain, but rumor spread around the village of a wandering ghost that followed the moon aimlessly. A spirit born of glaze lilies appeared after the battle that took place near there. It seems the power seeped deep into cracked earth among the flowerbeds.”

The young adeptus remained quiet, taking in the information. What exactly did this have to do with him, he wondered?

With a hint of apprehension, Xiao asks, “This spirit—has it taken on a malevolent nature?”

Instead of answering straight away, Zhongli wordlessly stands and makes his way back indoors. Xiao obediently follows, curious of the nature of this spirit.

“Nothing of the sort. However, these glaze lilies fell victim to the corruption of your karmic debt and at the same time were nurtured by immense adeptal power. There is a wavering balance that must be kept, for her body is as fragile as a flower’s and cannot withstand the depletion and shifts of adeptal energy.” With graceful steps, Zhongli stops before a door. “No other adeptus has successfully remained compatible with the energy she needs. So far it has only brought excruciating pain for her, and I fear she may die at this rate.”

With a silent nod, Xiao processes this information. His gloved hand is unmoving on the door handle.

“What are the terms of this contract,” Xiao silently asks, amber eyes trained on the door in front of him.

“My time has long passed to give you a new contract, Adeptus Xiao.” Zhongli chuckles fondly at the serious habits of the adeptus before him. “This is a choice I am giving you. It may take centuries for her body to adjust to the adeptal power she now harbors. If she is compatible with you, it is up to you to decide whether you supply her with your adeptal energy, otherwise she may not make it past next week.”

Xiao remains quiet for a brief moment before speaking softly, “Her body is tearing itself apart…”

“Correct.”

There’s something in that fact that stirs feelings Xiao isn’t used to in his chest. He accepts, and the first memory of you that adorns his mind is one that clenches his heart in a way he rarely experiences. The pain that twists and contorts your face as you desperately heave, body seemingly tearing itself apart in a way the naked eye cannot see.

You’re a beautiful tragedy born of moonlight and sweet soil. And in that moment when your eyes meet his, a single tear rolls down your cheek. He cannot fathom the thought of letting your life end as quickly as it began.

The door behind him clicks shut, and he takes your fragile life into his hands.

—

The lights of the house are dim—a subtle golden glow against a comforting darkness in the blanket of night. A meadow of glaze lilies surrounds the little cottage in a sea of fragrance. A prominent mark of your abode.

The little house defended by mountains is secluded, one which Zhongli sent to be made for you while your body stabilizes.

And though the exterior is tranquil, within its walls come soft pants and gasps. Xiao’s brows are knit together in concentration as he ruts against you.

“Please—Ah…nnh a–again,” you beg against your trembling body’s protests.

And he wordlessly complies, folding your legs until your knees are practically at the sides of your head. His hips pick up the pace and his thrusts become desperate, bodies covered in a sheen of sweat. The moans you let out are loud—obscene as he fills you up until you’re overflowing. The pains have long subsided, and you choose to let him overcompensate in giving you the energy that will get you by another few days.

In the serene calm of night, the tranquility is drowned out by the squelching sounds of your bodies meeting each other through desperate thrusts as both of you are sent over the edge. His name falls from your lips in a melody Xiao has grown addicted to. For the nth time that night you come undone beneath him, your essence stabilized.

There’s a swelling warmth in your chest that blooms like spring meadows as Xiao buries his face in the crook of your neck. The tips of his ears are a bright scarlet and though he tries to control it, he is still left a breathless mess as he rides out his orgasm.

“Is it…enough?” Xiao asks between pants, his cock still buried deep within you.

He’s still twitching within you and your entire body shudders with delight at the feeling.

“You… haah—can keep… going if you want,” you offer weakly. There’s a dazed look in your half-lidded eyes that makes Xiao’s chest squeeze. “‘M full but you’re still…”

Hard.

You glance down to where you two are still joined together, the view of his come leaking out of you shamelessly sending heat between your legs again. The tips of Xiao’s ears turn bright red though he tries to remain composed.

“I’ll be fine. You should get some rest to preserve the energy longer.”

He pulls out and ignores the way your eyes look away dejectedly. Before he can stand to go, your hand gently tugs him back down. Xiao allows himself to be pulled against you, his head resting in the valley of your naked chest.

“Stay with me for a bit?”

Xiao doesn’t answer right away, and your heart leaps when he lets out a little sigh and agrees.

“Alright.”

The minutes tick by in tranquil silence. Both tired bodies ignore the sticky feeling of sweat and sex. It’s a feeling you’re both quite used to by now.

“Xiao?” you start quietly after a while. He hums in response, your fingers running through his dark hair soothingly. “Can I kiss you?”

The question is soft, self-conscious almost with the fear of rejection. But you were beyond a breaking point. The feelings were welling up in your chest like a high tide as you felt him tense up at your question.

Sex was common—quite often as a means of easily transferring adeptal energy to you. And because it was a painful process to take in, you found that this method dulled the pain through the twisted pleasures and mixed sensations.

But that’s all it was— a means to keep you alive. You could never say there was a time Xiao kissed you and he always showed restraint in touching your body more than necessary. His bodily needs were never foremost on his mind and he would never tell you how his hands ached to roam your body, how this arrangement became an illusion of a different reality he couldn’t have. And so he locked away his emotions for his own sake.

Xiao lifted his face from your chest, his golden eyes wide with momentary confusion—perhaps even shock. And your face… those wonderful sparkling eyes that glistened with glossy tears on the brink of rolling down your face. He wished he wasn’t the reason you were crying.

In an instant he propped himself up on his forearms, feeling you lightly tremble beneath him from holding back the urge to cry. A quiet hiccup left you as you were overwhelmed by bottled up feelings all at once, his thumb gently brushing your tears away.

“Why?” was all he asked.

Though it was a genuine question, his actions remained tender and calmed the anxiety that gripped your naive heart.

“Because I love you—because I think I love you.”

Quietly you hiccuped beneath him and Xiao gently rested his forehead against yours, eyes closed.

“Then love me if it makes you happy,” he responds softly. The tears that twinkle down your face like falling stars are gently kissed away by his soft lips. “I’m with you until the day I die, and if loving me makes living less painful for you then use me as an anchor to reality.”

Your soft crying is hushed as Xiao presses a tender kiss to your lips. It’s short and just enough to bloom your heart with newfound emotions you had yet to experience. Perhaps you reminded the adeptus of himself in a simpler time—naive, innocent. For that, he took pity on you, and also fell deeply in love with you though he would not know it for a long time.

Simply put, he wouldn’t allow himself to know it.

The flowers that surround the small house glow and dance in the night breeze. They bloom with your newfound knowledge—heartache.

#adeptus xiao #xiao/reader #xiao x reader #zhongli #xiao just trying his best #genshin xiao #genshin fanfic #genshin impact #genshin #light smut #smut #pwp #fluff #drabble collection: ​coffee break for two #drabble #soft #the concept of this is hor knee I’m so sorry

[mayrubyy]

Clouded III

➻ Pairing- Chanyeol x Reader  ➻ Genre - Angst + Fwb! 

➻ Word Count - 3.7k  

➻ Rating - (M) Warning! this contains strong language, fwb, sexual and angst themes that are intended for mature audiences. Please don’t read if you’re not comfortable with the said themes and if you’re under 18! 

A/N - hey guys, so.. it is time to say goodbye and i was always full of hope and love for this series. sadly, it won’t see the light of day like i hoped for but in all it’s unfinished, glory, i present to you ~ Chapter III of Clouded.

This is my last post. So, farewell. 

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.  ･ ｡ × fragments=͟͟͞͞evanescent-lucid͟͟-transcending × ｡･ .  

Wayfaring aimlessly, you were drenched from head to toe and your senses were heavily distorted. The icy pellets of rain were unrelenting, not gentle in the slightest as they slapped against your skin. Streaks of lightning pierced through the forlorn sky in iridescent veins of electric and purple.The wind kept howling around you, the violent rainstorm having no mercy as it obscured your vision. Cars were zooming by at full speed, splashing puddles on to the pavement in their wake and when thunder roared above you, it sparked some kind of urgency in you as if the universe was telling you to take that one step forward, one step closer to starting a new chapter of your life– only you couldn't fathom that by doing so you were inviting trouble. 

All you could think of was Chanyeol and you found yourself knocking at his door, in the dead of the night.

Moreover, being completely soaked to the bone and nearly shivering to death wasn't fun. A mild wave of panic coursed through your body when you realized he wasn't answering the door. You rang the bell a few more times, begging, hoping and praying he was home. 

But, it was all drearily for nothing. 

Just when you were about to give up, you heard him shuffle. His footsteps thundered across the hallway and with a hasty turn of the knob, the door was ineptly flung open. The light fixtures in the foyer did little to illuminate his features, flickering about as they swathed his tall form in subtle hues of orange and gold. Chanyeol stood before you like a tower, silhouetting the buttery glow of his apartment and for a fleeting second, you couldn't decipher anything. Your mind was swirling in a heart stopping haze, his cologne dominating your senses as you stood there, wavering under his gaze. He rubbed his own bleary eyes, looking dazed and spaced out in the soft light, hair a complete mess, perhaps from wearing headphones. His breathing was erratic, chest tight against his shirt as it rose and fell, elucidating he had dashed all the way to get the door. To get to you. 

"Y/N?" He faltered, gaping at you with furrowed brows. "Wh-what are you doing here?" He asked you, dipping slightly to look at the expensive watch that adorned his wrist. "It's like one in the morning," ruffling the crimson locks away from his face, he tilted his head to the side like a lost pup and an awkward wave of silence crept between you two. The frigid air was stinging and your damp shirt was unpleasantly clinging to your body, the dewiness itching and nibbling away at your skin. Quivering in your bones, you wrapped your soaked arms around yourself and stuttered through chattering teeth. 

"Ch-Chanyeol… I'm c-cold."

"Fuck– my bad." He shuffled from one feet to the other before cautiously leaning towards you. "Here, let me–," then carefully draping his arm over your shoulder, he lead you inside, the warmth of his body effectively engulfing you as he did. The minute you set foot in his apartment, you were taken aback by how huge and spacious it was. And oddly enough, it was welcoming and cozy– just like him. 

It wasn't an ordinary apartment at all. It was rather luxurious for an undergrad and you could say you were mildly shook. You caught a whiff of coffee coming from his kitchen and some beats blaring through the headphones that sat tacitly on the counter. He was after all, much to your relief at home and completely immersed in music. That's why he couldn't hear you ring the bell or knock the door. He clumsily hooked his leg around the scaffold of the stool and dragged it closer to the island. Gently squeezing your shoulder, he ushered you to sit and after you quietly perched yourself down on the stool you looked up at him. His gorgeous pair of eyes sparkled as they met yours and deep in your heart, you felt relieved for having someone like him to rely on. A shoulder you could lean and cry on. 

"You, alright?" he asked you, concern swirling in his dark orbs. You kept your head low and nodded while he paced towards the coffee-maker and quickly grabbed a mug from the cupboard. He poured the hot liquid into it and scampered back to you. "You might want to have some. It'll help you warm up." He mumbled, voice deep and soothing to your ears. His fingers brushed softly against yours as you took the mug from him. "You probably need a warm bath too. I'll be right back." And with that he hurried away again, disappearing into the bedroom this time. He seemed anxious and quite restless like he didn't want to linger around you. 

You began to fret you were bothering him for turning up unannounced and so out of the blue like this. For a good moment you were contemplating whether to leave again. The door was right there, maybe you should...but your limbs had failed you. Your joints were beginning to ache and there was a sharp pain seeping through your nerves from the cold. Feeling defeated and worn out, you winced as you brought the rim of the mug to your lips and sipped quietly. The warmth from the coffee slowly began spreading down your throat and into your empty belly.

Your eyes flickered around the apartment as you placed the mug back down on the counter. A huge shelf made of glass had intrigued you. It was filled with action figures, a collection of sorts, of Chanyeol's favorite manga and anime characters. There was a record player sitting by the same shelf which had a robust and vintage feel to it. And, a glass door beside it leading further into something that looked like a mini studio, with guitars racked neatly in a corner and some dreamcatchers celestially hooked to the wall above them. The other end was adorned with the One Piece flag hanging on the wall which confirmed his addiction to all things Japanese. It was adorable. You squinted through the glass door again and found a desktop– an iMac sitting right in between the space with acoustic diffusers surrounding it. You could tell Chanyeol was very passionate about music. You had once heard him play the guitar at a local club on a weekend but you didn't know he had a whole studio in his exquisite apartment like this. 

Your bestfriend Kyungsoo had told you that Chanyeol was from an affluent family. He was in the Basketball team along with your boyfriend Taehyung. Highly competitive and charming to a fault, musically talented and really tall, kinda clumsy with a goofy grin and big fluffy ears– that was all you really knew about him. 

It was at a party after a match that Baekhyun had introduced you to each other. And, all you could vaguely remember was playing beer pong and getting drunk out of your mind. Taehyung had abandoned you in the middle of the party and the next day, you found yourself waking up on top of Chanyeol. It sure as hell was fucking awkward, you recall. Although, he had chuckled nonchalantly and assured you that you were just woozy and beyond sloshed. That you held him tightly and wouldn't let him go till you were out cold and passed out on the couch. Chanyeol went as far as calling you cute that day and you felt your face go embarrassingly crimson and returned him with a sharp punch to his gut, making him groan frantically. He did put up a dramatic show that day because he loved attention and took much pride in teasing you. 

Quickly enough, your little encounters with him followed. You ran into each other at the games a lot. More mini trips to 7-Eleven at the campus, talking about music and other things that amused you and you came to realize that you both had a lot in common. You were beginning to grow fond of his company everytime Taehyung left you hanging. And whenever you'd get anxious you'd end up texting Chanyeol asking if Tae was at the game. 

Chanyeol would facetime you and tell you that guys like to go into their little caves from time to time. That it wasn't anything you should be worrying about. Although, to your shocking revelation, it was far from an ordinary man cave. Your world turned upside down after Chanyeol ran into your boyfriend making out with one of the cheerleaders in the locker room. 

He kept it from you for two weeks before fidgeting and stuttering, then finally spilled everything out and suggested you moved on from Taehyung. That it was for the best. At first you thought it was some kind of a pathetic joke but turns out, it wasn't. 

You'd never felt so broken and so ditched. You felt ridiculed and helpless. Taehyung never really cared to bring the matter up. And when you asked him if he was seeing anyone, he simply told you not to be ridiculous, persuading you to drop it with all things romantic and velvety later on. You were starting to feel sick of his behavior. Of course it was you who was being delusional and not him shoving his tongue down someone else's throat. It must have been so easy for him, right? 

As the weeks flew by, your mind hopelessly drifted back to how your boyfriend would rather spend the weekend with some chic who'd had sugar, spice and everything nice and honestly, it wasn't fun or healthy for you to fret over him anymore. It made you dizzy, made you want to throw up. He was cold blood lying through his teeth. He was cheating on you and you'd had just about enough. 

Barely hours ago, you'd stormed out of Taehyung's apartment after having a nerve wracking argument with him. Completely blinded by rage you wandered forcefully in the streets until it had started raining violently. And then it dreadfully occurred to you that you had absolutely nowhere to go. Kyungsoo wasn't in town and the last person to cross your mind was Chanyeol. His apartment was around the corner and of all the people, you never really fathomed you'd end up knocking at his door all doused and a drenched mess like this but here you were.  

You balled your fists and sniffled quietly, trying to stop the tears that were welling at the corner of your weary eyes. Chanyeol was still nowhere in sight while the beats continued blaring from his headphones from the other end. You wiped a lone tear that had trickled down your right cheek and returned your attention to the white foam swirling delicately in your mug, trails of steam dancing above it. 

"Y/N?"

You heard Chanyeol's voice echo from within the room. You quickly placed your elbows on the counter and ducked your head to conceal your tears away from him. 

"The bath is ready. You'll find the clothes on the dresser. And, I– uhm, I have some bath bombs. If you wanna use them. Go ahead." Chanyeol reappeared scratching the back of his head, his lips had curved into a daffy smile. 

"You have a...g-girlfriend?" It wasn't that you were curious but you knew you shouldn't have blurted that out so mindlessly. It was obvious. It was so goddamn obvious. He's a young adult, a drop dead gorgeous one for fuck's sake. He plays basketball and guitars, has got a whole studio of his own and must have plenty of girls over. You couldn't have been more nuts to ask him that? You mentally shrug and cuss at yourself. 

"What?" Chanyeol looked at you as if you were delirious. "Uhhh, no? I don't." He mumbled, a huge pout adorning his lips. "I'm not.. really.. in a good headspace for love." He crossed his arms and leaned against the door. "Also, love is fucking illusive, you know?" 

Illusive? Is that even a word? You both eyed each other intently and the more you looked at him the more you were mystified by his words. You bit your lip quietly and urged him to continue, "tell me more."

"How about you get out of those clothes first." Chanyeol's voice was barely a whisper. He then furrowed his brows but his expression quickly morphed into an awkward one like he was ready to pull his hair out. "I mean, you must be cold –not that– I– fuck–.." 

Another wave of awkward silence crept between you two and he began pulling at his hair frantically. "That sounded awful.." He stomped about cursing and letting a string of fucks slip out of his tongue again. He then collapsed to the floor and hid his face dramatically in his hands. You couldn't help but chuckle at his actions and wheezed loudly enough for him to peek from between his fingers to look back at you. He slowly loosened up and smiled quietly to himself. "I'm serious." He walked towards you and sat himself on the stool, "don't want you falling sick, babe." 

Chanyeol looked at you adoringly, the apples of his cheeks were glistening, still blushing pink. "You done with that?" he pointed at the mug. You took one last sip and nodded, never taking your eyes off him. "I am." You pushed the mug towards him and his fingers found their way around the porcelain again, brushing softly against yours like they did the first time. You mouthed a soft 'thank you'. He darted his tongue out to wet his lips while you continued gazing back at him, mesmerized by his pink fluffy ears. A hearty smile fluttered on his lips as well as yours. He wrapped his long fingers snugly around yours and whispered back to you, fondness gleaming in his eyes. 

"Don't worry about it, baby."

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The lump in your throat was gnawing its way slowly down to your chest as you helped yourself out of your damp clothes. Your head was starting to spin again when you finally caught a glimpse of your disheveled state in the mirror. You mocked yourself cynically and wondered why Chanyeol wasn't mortified, hadn't gasped and shut the door back in your face. You looked ghastly but he was being far too sweet with you. He was gentle as ever, taking your icy hands that had gone numb into his huge ones, rubbing them together to get them warm and whispering sweetly and huskily that it was alright, that you were safe in his hands now. 

The more you looked at yourself the more you felt exasperated like you were wallowing away in wades of self pity. Your eyeliner was smudged around your dreary eyes as though someone had beaten the living crap out of you. And, being alone by yourself again only allowed the bitterness to creep back into your heart.

'Love is illusive' Chanyeol had accented and you couldn't help but dwell on the thought as you ensconced yourself into the steaming tub, allowing the lush scent of lavender to cloud your senses. The water soaked and engulfed you in a lukewarm trance, washing away the remnants of the rainstorm that had pierced your fragile skin not merely an hour ago. 

"Love's like a game– a game you just can't win." 

Chanyeol's words echoed in the back of your mind. He kept citing whilst showing you the way to the bathroom. He can't just be saying that to make you feel better would he? He looked pretty suave and confident saying he didn't have time for romance but then again with a charming aura like that he could get any girl at any shack. It would be his call. You had no hint or clue about his past flings although he'd grown to be so close to you. However, somewhere deep in the pits of your broken heart, you felt like you've known him for years even though you'd only started talking to him merely months ago. 

As much as you wanted to drown your thoughts into the night in the tub, you couldn't keep him waiting. If it wasn't embarrassing enough he'd heard your stomach growl to which he had softly grazed your cheek with his thumb and asked you to hurry up, rasping away that he'd cook you something. You were in fact enthusiastic about wanting to give him credence for his witty nuances about love and join him back in the kitchen. If you were a damsel in distress– Chanyeol was your knight in shining armor. You chuckled at the thought and huffed away, blowing and lifting some of the delicate foamy bubbles that were settled on your knees. 

Perhaps, it really was time to turn the page to a new chapter in your life. "Fuck you, Tae." You spat bitterly, soapy suds slithering down your dewy, glistening body as you rose to your feet, planting them firmly on the ceramic underneath. "Fuck everything." You crouched again and pulled the stopper out, watching what was left of the effervescent mixture of lavender whirl about and get sucked into the drain, taking along with it parts of you that you no longer wished to carry the burden of. 

You felt like you deserve the chance to clear yourself of this mess and you were willing to explore what the universe had to offer you now. If it had so spurred you into risking hypothermia enough to end up at someone's door who could in fact be your saving grace. Someone who believes that love is all but a load of bullshit, then maybe Park Chanyeol might actually be the one for you. And, you could definitely rely on him to help you piece your broken heart together without having to worry about the perpetual matters of love. You wanted to step into the light, without having to look back again. 

And you were glad you could seek the light past love and its hazy horizon for once.

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A hoard of concerns were lurking before you. With all your clothes soaked and dirty now, including your garments, you stood in front of the dresser, scratching your head in confusion. 

Huffing away, you put Chanyeol's t-shirt on which had engulfed you completely, all the way down to your knees. The most frustrating part however, were the shorts he picked for you. They didn't sit at your hips at all and had drooped down your legs the minute you put them on, instantly piling at your feet. 'How the fuck am I supposed to secure this?' You fretted, shrugging as you picked them back up. 

You tried again but failed miserably. It would be fucking awkward walking back into the kitchen, dressed only in his shirt. You had absolutely nothing on underneath. Fuck. It's not like you were going to touch him or anything. You can manage this and maybe he won't notice, right? It was your last resort and you quickly had to make your mind up. Out of nowhere you heard your stomach growl again. It was either do or die now. You had to decide. 'I'll keep my distance from him and he won't bat an eye' were the words you chanted to yourself before leaving the bedroom. 

As you walked back into the living room, your ears were invited by the soft music playing from the record player, the one that was by the glass shelf. You stopped by the dining table facing Chanyeol's back who was busy in the kitchen. The aroma of pancakes whiffed through the air and the atmosphere was perfectly cozy. Although, you didn't dare move from the table and decided to keep yourself away and at a distance. Then Chanyeol turned around and his eyes flew wide open in surprise. 

"What the fu– ...you startled me." He yelped, placing the pan back on the stove and clutching at his heart. "I thought I already had you stricken with horror when you first opened the door," you snorted, "I looked horrendous, didn't I?" Chanyeol simply shook his head in denial and retorted with a playful smirk. "You looked quite hot. I'm not gonna lie."

"Shut up, Chanyeol." You felt your face flushing an awful shade of pink at his remarks. "It's the truth, babe." He quipped, whirling about and chuckling away as he returned his attention towards cooking the pancakes again. "Come here, you need to eat!" he called out and your limbs immediately went limp. 

"Um, can you place it on the counter for me?" you purred, requesting him in your humblest tone. "I'm..kinda.. in a fix here." Your voice wavered and when Chanyeol turned around to look at you again, he grinned sheepishly. "What's wrong?" he asked you as if he had no clue what you were going on about.

"It's an embarrassing...outfit situation." You cleared your throat and Chanyeol quickly mouthed an 'oh'. "It doesn't sound like much of a problem to me." He rasped, dripping maple syrup on pancakes. "Your belly needs some food and that's more important." He then brought the plate with the freshly made pancakes and placed it on the counter and ushered you warmly to join him at the island. His voice suddenly grew a little stern. "Come on now before it gets cold." His sudden strictness made you chuckle. He possibly can't get more adorable than this, can he?

"Fine." You faltered in your steps and met him at the island. Thankfully, the structure blocked a good amount of distance between you two. When you settled down on the stool, he handed you the fork and you started taking measly bites out of the plate. Chanyeol watched you intently, his arms were propped up against the counter, hands cupped around his face as he gaped at you in awe. "Stop looking at me like that. You're making me nervous." You mumbled in between bites. He gave you a squinty eyed grin before snatching the fork away from your hands and making you gasp. 

"Geez baby, you're supposed to wolf it down." He cut through the pancake haphazardly and jabbed at a huge chunk, "like this." He then shoved the massive bite into your mouth and a muffled moan left your lips as you swallowed it down. "This will fill you up." He then glanced  at your lips coated with the sweet syrup hazily and mumbled huskily in his deep voice. "God, I could fill you up."

Of course you were going to choke upon hearing what he had just said. You wheezed frantically and couldn't pluck enough courage to look him in the eye anymore. Your heart thundered in your chest as you squirmed and scooted anxiously away from him, a faint blush spreading over your cheeks. You could tell he was violently biting down on his bottom lip, shutting his own eyes close, as tightly as he could. 

You both were awfully quiet again. Too embarrassed to take the conversation any further. But then Chanyeol interjects, breaking the awkwardness, "I didn't mean to…" 

 "D-don't.. worry about it," you bite on your own lip and jab at your pancake with your fork. He looks at you cryptically, "are you sure?" 

You nod your head and lick your lips and when you do, something triggers Chanyeol and he quickly gets off his stool and much to your relief walks back to the stove with an excuse to make you more pancakes. You try to gobble the rest of the pancake as quickly as you can while trying your best not to dither about what had just happened. As soon as you're done, you pick your plate up and scamper towards the sink but Chanyeol blocks you. "Woah, hold up. You're not done eating until I say so." He looms over you and his voice is yet again, stern and you push him away and boy you wish you didn't. 

The second your palm came in contact with his abs  through the fabric you knew you fucked up. You could feel the ridges and he was so perfectly packed and built. The girls at uni, they were right. Park Chanyeol was irresistible and you were only inches away from him.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

A/N ~ 

this is it guys. it’s broken and full of errors lol. i lost the doc that had everything written beyond this.  i had wiped my drive for work last year and other reasons. anyway,  i’m happy you made it this far with me in this clouded journey. if you wish to find out what happens after, feel free to ping me i’ll sum it up for you, sweet & short, only if you really wish to find out how these two end up haha. but yeah. this is it. i haven’t got anything else to say. so yeah, stay safe and most importantly, be happy. love y’all. <3

Taglist ♡  @loeyprivvv @littleflowercrown13 @wifechungha  @rashidamesrur  @mindofthescattered @zessafg @always-wishing-for-rain  @brazilianbasicbitch @kpopfessions-blog @baek-byunies @j-pping @godexosblog @hansolturnt @anyh0w @fire-poppyqueen @smolmel @nanasupremacy​ @chanyeolparkriswu✧  Note - If I have forgotten to tag anyone! I’m sorry, I lost the doc where I kept track of you guys so, this is all I got. 

#chanyeol #chanyeol smut #chanyeol fic #chayeol angst #chayeol fanfic #chanyeol x reader #chayeol scenarios #chanyeol drabble #exo smut #clouded #chanyeol x you #chanyeol fanfiction #park chanyeol #college!au #angst #kpop angst #kpop smut #flkfkl;sfks i forgot how this trashsite works #gg guys. see you in the next dimension.

[chaoticneutralwriter]

The Calm

And it’s this quiet moment that you cherish the most.

guardian demon!jimin x reader

genre: supernatural, romance, angst, slow-burn, comedy, fluff

word count: 7.5k

related works: see Masterlist under guardian demon!jimin au

Continuation of: First Bite and A Small Death (M)

Warning: pillow talk so some suggestive content, but other wise fluffy and domestic af

A/N: AAAAAAAAAAAAAA HAPPY HOLIDAYS!🎄🎁☃️ AM I TOO LATE FOR AN UPDATE?? LOLL It’s not necessarily Christmas themed but I had anticipated I could get this done at least by then to post so...does this count as a present? dkshg I’m so sorry it took so long 😩 the last few weeks got me feeling in some type of funk where sometimes i wanna do something and other times it’s just ‘i know i gotta do this thing but...i don’t wanna’ so please excuse if there’s any typos i might’ve not caught and if the chapter seems very stop and go sdfkjshg Once again, thank you guys so so SO much for your endless love and support for this fic and for your endless patience! Stay safe, take care and have a restful week!

Tag list: @cherryjiminiee @kokobaekkie @breathebangtan @itsadoozie @thatshylatina @chiminieboi @azulamakesmeblank @sectumsemptae @awkwardwookie @aduky @poisonseashell @shortannoyingginger @caramelmac-chiato @sana-b @jiminstinct @beautifulparisiangirl @taelieninvader @ggukjitaejin @xakemi-chiix @vantaenims @atulipandarose​ @moments-of-melancholy @xclo02 @cherub-kookie @gottadreamitallaway​ @indiesy​ @disn3yfreak @oerangdoongi

You feel yourself stirring back into consciousness, becoming more aware of the soft duvet covers that cocoon you. On an inhale, you pick up the smell of fresh linen with an undertone of warm peppermint and cedar. It's nice, soothing and you bury your nose further in it. But it's definitely not what your bed sheets smell like.

Slowly, your eyes flutter open, vision blurred from the deep slumber you were in and the dimness of the room until you blink to adjust yourself. Through the sliver of thin curtains, you see the still darkened night sky – an endless sea of midnight blue with only the faint golden glow of the city building lights dotting along its surface like makeshift stars. The moon is full tonight, shining brightly and casting its pale rays onto the floor and walls though occasionally, it shies away behind wispy clouds that drift by.

Growing more awake, you begin to notice other things besides the time of day, like how these microfibre sheets were especially soft against your body, caressing your skin as if you're wearing nothing at all.

....Oh, you really were wearing nothing at all.

You pause to think, trying to get the gears working in your head before the memories start to jog again.

You remember meeting Jungkook at that fancy lounge, he had given you the address to where your guardian demon was staying (more like hiding). You had marched up, banging on his door and demanding him to explain why the fuck he would hide something as important as attempting to transition to a guardian angel –

Your eyes widen, a sick surge of panic rushing from your gut and you might've given yourself whiplash in your haste to see the other side of the bed, only to sigh out quietly, your palpitating heart settling back to a calm, steady beat. Carefully, you roll yourself over, shuffling closer and finally letting yourself take him in, like Psyche laying eyes on Eros for the first time.

He sleeps so soundly, almost angelically and you resist the urge to snort at the irony of that thought, but with the way his dark raven locks are tousled, strands falling over his forehead, delicate lashes brushing the tops of his cheeks and his full pink lips that are parted slightly as the moonlight kisses every inch of smooth skin the sheets aren't covering, you swear he could fool anyone into believing it, even heaven themselves.

You can't help but to bring a hand up to sweep away the stray hairs, allowing you a better glimpse of him. It's the first time you've seen him this relaxed, any sort of tension no longer marring his elegant face, like for once he doesn't have to put on a strong front and the sight has you bewitched, wanting to take in as much as you can. When your fingers gently glide down his profile, you're surprised they come away a little warmer. In fact, the more you look, you think his complexion has improved, a healthier glow compared to when you first saw him. Is it your imagination? Or the trick of the light? You lift your head to try and get a better look.

You feel him stir before you can be sure of it and you're met with obsidian irises that seem to bore into your soul. There's a slightly dazed look in his eyes that has a fond smile tug at the corner of your lips as you settle back down again.

“Hi.” You whisper, as if afraid you'll break the peace of the night.

Recognition flits through his gaze at the sound of your voice and he mirrors your smile, breathing a soft sigh. He lifts the hand that was resting on his stomach to take hold of yours resting on his cheek.

“Hey.” It comes out deep and husky; still heavily laden with sleep and raspy from disuse. He turns so that he's facing you properly, thumb stroking the back of your hand before he places a kiss on your inner wrist. “Thought I was dreaming for a second...”

You let out what can only be described as a mix between a throaty laugh and a garble, a rather unattractive noise that has you pulling your hand back to cover your face in embarrassment, cheeks heating up further when your muffled voice comes out extremely hoarse and cracks if you so much as raise it.

“You can't say that when you were literally sleeping like a French girl waiting to be painted.”

He chuckles, not hesitating to pull you into his chest and sneaking another kiss to your forehead. You snuggle against him happily, throwing your arm across his stomach and pressing your own lips to his collarbone in return as he slips an arm under your head to use as a pillow.

“You're one to talk.” You hear him say above you before adding teasingly, “When you're not stealing all the blanket.”

You lightly push your knuckles at his jaw but there was no real force or seriousness behind the reprimand; just a case of your usual banters acting up. He retaliates by playfully snapping his teeth at your hand, as if to bite the fingers and you pull back, squealing and giggling.

“No biting!”

“So no biting I see...Duly noted then.”

Your mouth drops open, scandalized as your gaze whips up, only to find him barely containing a suggestive smirk at you.

“...I don't like what you're implying...” You say, eyes narrowing even though you find yourself subtly sinking lower in an attempt to hide the blush you feel rushing up your neck. He catches you all the same, tilting his head as the lazy smirk grows.

“Oh darling I only say to better please you. Although,” He pauses, slowly, purposefully leaning down closer to you, a gleam in his eyes that you swear made his dark eyes deepen into a devilish crimson for a split second.

“We'll probably have to work on that stamina – can't have you tapping out just after three orgasms.”

You choke, completely flustered at such brazen and lascivious words that sound far too honeyed than they should be, making the memories seem all the more vivid in your mind. Your entire body feels incredibly hot suddenly and not knowing what to do, you whine helplessly and attempt to roll away from him but he holds onto you, the sounds of his laughter tinkling in your ears.

“You're not getting any of this blanket for that now.” You pout, bunching and tugging the sheets to your chest more.

“I'm just teasing love, I couldn't help myself!” He giggles, nuzzling into your shoulder. “Forgive me?”

You let the silence drag out for a few seconds longer before you sneak a peek over, letting out a snort when you see him blinking big puppy dog eyes at you. You're biting back a smile as you turn to face him again.

“You're lucky you're cute.”

His eyes crease up as he brings a hand up to cup your cheek, stroking the soft skin. You lean into his touch, watching him affectionately until you see his expression dim to something more sombre.

“I really am sorry Y/N.” He confesses quietly, voice tinged with a heavy guilt as his fingers move to play distractedly with your hair, gently tucking the loose strands behind your ear or brushing them off your shoulder. “I'm sorry I kept this from you for as long as I did....”

You open your mouth to speak, but stop midway. You'd be lying if you said that you're not completely over being mad at him for what he did, however, the initial anger had more or less simmered to a heartache you can't quite shake. You feel him beginning to withdraw his touch, perhaps misreading your silence as reopening a tender wound but you bring a hand up to entangle your fingers with his, keeping them in place.

“I know you said you did it to protect me but,” The sigh you let out holds a lingering sadness, “I still wished you had told me...” You chastised, stern yet gentle as you lock a steady gaze on him. “You really had me worried and scared. I thought something happened to you...like...” You swallow and he squeezes your hand lightly in comfort. “Like the night I found you...in my room.”

He nods, solemnly conceding and his eyes drift away, reflecting in his thoughts.

“I'm sure you figured by now; that night was when I had came back from starting the transitioning process.” He rolls until he's lying on his back, staring aimlessly at the ceiling and you shuffle closer in his loosened hold, not wanting to be apart from his warmth, listening. “Usually not a big deal....but for a demon, it was dangerous.” A rueful chuckle. “To be honest, I still don't know how I even survived...”

Your heart clenches at the thought and you bite your lip, pushing down the lump that's growing.

“But ever since then, my body's been...off, and it only grew worse each day – to the point where using my powers for even the simplest things put a huge strain on me.” He inhales deeply, as if he's trying to breathe past the weight that's been sitting on his chest. “I felt so exhausted all the time; I thought at this rate, I wouldn't be able to do anything. I wouldn't be able to protect you from the misfortunes that follow me and if I couldn't do that much, it would be better for me to stay away, keep you from the dangers and...” You see his jaw stiffen before he directs his gaze to the side, face turned away from you. “Keep you from seeing me this way; helpless, weak.”

The last few words come out as if he loathes to admit them aloud, voice tight. You hear how frustrated he is with himself and you're quick to assuage those tumultuous thoughts, rising so that you hover above his form to cup his face in your hands until your eyes meet, pulling him from the abyss.

“I would rather be in danger than have you risk your life.” You say, softening when you continue, “I don't want to lose you....You mean so much to me. Please don't ever forget that.”

Dark eyes, much like the starless night sky outside the window, widen fractionally. You fight the blush threatening to bloom across your cheeks, realizing how ardent you might've sound but you speak honestly, even if your heart feels like it's about to beat out of your ribcage at any moment. You think it speeds up when you see his mouth tug into a small smile and he leans up to brush his nose against yours tenderly, winding one arm around your waist to press you even closer to his body, half lying on top of him.

“I never would've thought in my lifetime I would find someone like you cherub.” He says in disbelief, free hand coming up to bury into the locks of your hair, palm resting on the back of your neck. “I've done nothing to deserve you.”

“Well, you're just gonna have to accept it.” You answer, planting a light kiss on the tip of his nose. “Because I'm not going anywhere.” You punctuate each word with a kiss to the apple's of his cheeks, forehead, over the lids of his eyes, and finally on pillowy soft lips. You can't help but linger there a little longer. When you pull away, it's to take in his visage, eyes travelling over his form before something catches your attention.

At first, you didn't recognize it; the blemish appearing more or less like a birthmark, however, you see the size it takes up on the left side of his chest and it's then you realize that it was the tattoo you had seen, only this time it appeared to be so much more faded, and in some places, the inky lines have disappeared altogether. You frown, troubled at having not noticed until now...or perhaps from the fact that you had entirely missed it because it was barely there anymore, you're not sure.

“I'm guessing this is because of the process too?” You ask, thoughtlessly tracing the pads of your fingers over what's left of the mark. He hums, the sound rumbling beneath your palm as his larger hand encompasses yours, holding it in place and you feel the steady beating of his heart.

“I'm not surprised, it's the mark of a demon after all.” He explains, none too bothered and lightly shrugging at that. When the hard line of your lips doesn't let up, he chuckles, reaching up to poke your cheek. “It's just a mark cherub, nothing serious. It's meant to distinguish our kind because of our ability to take on any human appearances.”

Still, you don't like how it's another glaringly obvious sign that your guardian demon's health is deteriorating, an unwanted byproduct to add to the pile that does nothing but taunt you. It has your thoughts straying back to the idea that you had your mind set on. You're very tempted to bring it up; wanting to desperately tell him that you might've found another way, that he doesn't need to endure any more pain or sacrifices for your sake, that for once, maybe you can do something for him after all he's done for you.

“Cherub?”

The soft call brings you back, eyes refocusing on the demon who blinks up at you curiously with the faintest hints of concern etched across his deceivingly delicate features. At the sight, you feel yourself melting, endeared and suddenly you can't bear to ruin this sweet moment with another heavy topic – you both had just came to terms and settled the whole guardian angel thing after all.

You'll tell him later, right now you'd rather be making up the lost time you could've had kissing and snuggling him.

So in the end, it gets pushed to the very back of your mind and you redirect to something else, “Sorry, I was just thinking about what you said; how demons can take on any human appearances. I'll admit, your Jimin look is impressive.”

You see him take pause, no doubt trying to process the flitting thought that has just passed before ultimately, he chooses to let it slide and allows you to pull him into your playful antics. The smug smirk that makes its way onto his lips has a coquettish one sneaking onto your own. “But,” you almost laugh at how fast he falters at the single word and your smile grows more and more teasing. “I'm afraid you got sloppy, with or without your mark I could easily tell you weren't actually Jimin.”

He scoffs, looking thoroughly affronted by your claims. “How? I think my look is pretty spot on.”

You hum, propping up a little more so that you can brush the dark strands of hair on his forehead with the tips of your finger. “True....But you could say almost too perfect. See, Jimin has a beauty mark here.” You gently tap on a spot just above his left brow and you giggle when the skin wrinkles up in his effort to follow your movement attentively. “And here...” Your finger lowers to the edge of his collarbone. “And one on the back of his neck. You only managed to get the one on his cheek right.”

The indignant grunt he makes lets you know he's pouting without you even having to look.

“His teeth aren't perfectly straight like yours either – one of his front tooth is slightly crooked.”

“...I do hope your interest in teeth won't go beyond that...”

You smack his chest lightly, kissing your teeth but otherwise make no further comment. “I think the last thing that gave you away is your choice in piercings...” You point out, brushing your thumb against the sensitive shell of his ear where the helix stud sits. “Jimin doesn't have this one anymore.”

“A shame really...” You hear the demon murmur and your eyebrows quirk, barely catching the way he swallows thickly, eyes darting off to the side.

You blink, wondering if you've made him self-conscious or uncomfortable in any way but little do you know, the demon is only relieved you hadn't noticed the goosebumps that have erupted over his arm at your innocent touch.

“You're right, and that's why I like it – the helix piercing.” You continue, smiling gently. “And everything else you missed. It's like your own kind of imperfections and preferences...it just proves that you're you, and not Jimin.”

You can't help letting your voice tether off into something much softer for the quiet confession hidden in those last few words.

You're the one I love.

Your stomach flutters with butterflies at the foreign feeling, shrinking in on yourself out of shyness and you know you really shouldn't be, but you're also nervous; for what you're not even entirely sure. Mentally, you scold yourself – you must seem like such a weird, emotional mess of a human being to him.

The rumbling vibrations of his chuckle catches your attention, as does the palm of his hand coming up to cup your cheek.

“Well, I'm glad that you're the one to differentiate the two of us.”

He doesn't need to say anything else because from the fond look in his eyes and the tender dulcet tone of his voice, you see and hear his unspoken response, how much it means to him.

Thank you for loving me, for me.

Your heart swells unbelievably in size that you're actually left a little breathless. The butterflies are going crazy now and so overwhelmed by your emotions but not knowing how to express them adequately, you bury your face into his neck and squeeze a tight hug into him. You get a breathy laugh in response and feel his strong arms squeezing you right back, his mouth pressing into the crown of your head. You stay like that for a while, simply taking in the scent that is so uniquely his. It never fails to relax every nerve in your body, and coupled with the rhythmic stroking of his hand through your hair, you find yourself struggling to blink away the heaviness that's starting to fall over your lids.

Your lips move in a drowsy mumble, sluggishly forming the beginnings of his name but then stopping abruptly. Lifting your head so that you can look at him, you're suddenly wide eyed with the realization.

“I should probably stop calling you 'Jimin' then huh?”

Obsidian eyes blink down at you, amusement shining in their depths for the way you seem so pressed about the issue, like you had offended him to the highest degree. Your chest moves in sync with the deep inhale he takes, watching as he languidly lifts his arm to tuck it behind his head, his expression shifting to something a little more pensive before he seems to reach a conclusion.

“As much as I appreciate the sentiment cherub, I think it's safer if you still continue to. When I said there is power to a name, I didn't mean so lightly. A demon can be overpowered or even banished should their true name be known; be it by a medium, an exorcist or –“

“An angel.”

The words slips out unconsciously in a small whisper, like you're afraid to speak it into existence.

“...Yes, especially angels.” He answers you like he was the bearer of bad news, only you knew that much already. You might not be an expert, but you think it's pretty basic knowledge that demons (and by proxy, other kinds of dark entities) can be expelled in some form or another – your past jokes and gibes at your own guardian demon were proof of that matter alone.

However, now you've been hit in the face with just how volatile that reality is; and all it would take is uttering his name to the wrong person.

“I won't let that happen.”

It's a promise, a vow; one you'll be damned if you broke. He smiles, endeared at your unwavering display of determination.

“I know you won't love, but regardless, if you ever find yourself in danger don't hesitate to call my name.”

Your brows furrow in protest. “But that's too –”

“No buts Y/N.” He gently reprimands you, curling a finger under your chin so that your eyes lock onto the firm gaze he fixes you with. “As your guardian; your safety is still and will always remain my priority.”

There's a finality with the statement that lets you know that no amount of arguing will change his mind on that and your mouth reluctantly falls shut. At your conflicted and crestfallen look, he softens.

“Hey.”

You perk up slightly and feel the featherlight brushes of his finger against the roundness of your cheek, a small placating gesture.

“Don't worry too much on it cherub, just something I want you to keep in mind yeah?”

You want to weakly retort that it's too late for that, mind already running amok with worse case scenarios. You don't get too far into it however, as fatigue rolls over you like a powerful wave, overtaking you in the form of a giant yawn that you struggle to stifle; the force of it has your whole body shuddering.

“We should really stop meeting like this, I'm afraid it's finally taking a toll on you.”

The disgruntled noise you let out gets muffled in with the last remnants of the tired exhale. You don't truly understand what he means until you blink away the tears, catching sight of a sleek digital clock sitting on the night stand, and squinting, you see the numbers illuminating in green reads 4:45AM.

You groan and feel as if whatever remaining energy you had is drained after knowing the time. Shutting your eyes, your body sags completely, half-draped unceremoniously over the firm body of your demon.

“Now, now princess, you'll regret falling asleep like this when you wake up.” You hear him tut before you feel yourself be moved, rolled to your side so that you lie properly on the mattress. You whine, was perfectly contented where you were but settle once you feel arms wrap itself around your waist, pulling you close and your face is once again buried perfectly into the crook of his neck, head resting on the pillow.

The calming scent of him along with his warmth and the plush covers cocooning you easily allows for sleep to pull at your lids once more, your own arms instinctively curling around him.

“Good?”

You hum, sighing out as your worries slowly muddle together into nothing more than a heavy fog and when he starts to run his fingers through your hair again, you're practically mush.

“...You never answered my question...” You murmur thoughtlessly, like a subconscious, knee jerk reaction born from a last minute need for some peace of mind before you finally succumb to the rapidly growing fatigue. His hand stills momentarily, and you're not sure if it's because he had barely made out your slurred words or if it's to recall the memory. There's a lapse in silence, how long you're not even sure at this point as you feel yourself drifting in and out of being awake, but then you hear it – sweet and wistful.

“...For as long as I'm yours, I'll stay.”

-

The next time you wake, it is to a warmth that you quickly find wasn't the kind you expected nor want. The soft rays of the sun easily pierces through the chiffon curtains that drape over the floor to ceiling windows in the bedroom, bathing the space in a golden haze and while often times, it leaves for an impressive view of the vast cityscape below, you're not entirely appreciative of the exposure it gives you now. Not only did it disrupt you from your peaceful slumber, it does little to hide the coolness you feel from the empty space beside you.

You sit up with a start, still dazed and stay there for a good minute, squinting through the light that's way too bright the same time trying to kickstart your mind into gear – you never were the best person to wake up, it took you forever to get yourself together. Eventually, your eyes begin to take in what's around you, the dark grey sheets that pool around your waist and finally getting a good look at the interior of the room.

It's ridiculously spacious, as is the bed you're sitting in, even from what little you had seen initially amidst the dim lighting along with the flurry of heightened emotions and passion. In fact, it looks a lot like a snapshot right out of a luxury home interior decorating magazine if you're going to be honest.

Off the bat, you can tell the colour scheme was mainly dark greys, creams, and blacks, accented by the same deep mahogany wood of the front door. It was also decorated simply with minimalistic styled furnishing. Aside from the low laying king sized bed, with its taupe coloured upholstered frame, a dresser sits across from you and in the far corner facing the large windows was a singular lounge chair with a small coffee table situated in front.

Turning your head, you see matching night tables, both with identical geometric lamps but one had the clock you spotted earlier, the time now reading 2:16PM. To your left, you notice a doorway situated perpendicular to the large windows in one corner of the room while to the right of you, there was another door and just ahead to the right was another. Immediately, you guess that these lead off to one of three places; a bathroom, a closet or the main hall leading out to the rest of the penthouse.

A shiver passes through you, causing you to momentarily shrink in on yourself and reminding you that you're still very much nude. Self-consciously, you tug the blankets around you back up once more, wearing it as a makeshift cape as you continue to glance around the room, now with more awake eyes. It's then that you finally notice your neatly folded clothes laying on the black cushioned bench at the end of the bed, and sitting just beside that pile was a plain black robe and towels. The rush of air through your nose barely concealed the quiet giggle seeping through – so sweet of him.

You should probably shower, you think. Though surprisingly, you don't feel as grimy as you would have thought but still, it'd be refreshing. You lean over until your hand reaches the robe, already loving the extremely plush softness you feel under your fingertips. It feels even better once you shrug it on, securing the sash around your waist and you honestly think you can fall right back asleep in it. A tempting idea, but you have more pressing matters. Niggling at the back of your mind, a part of you wanted to find your guardian demon first, to check up on him in the same manner he'd so carefully demonstrated upon your waking and confirm your comfort wasn't at the expense of his health. Plus – and even as you admit this, your heart traitorously flutters – you miss him.

You shuffle to the edge of the bed until you're able to swing your legs over, letting the soles of your feet touch the cream carpeting before you haul yourself up. You sharply inhale, halting in your steps at the popping of joints and a dull ache, the latter catching you off guard (and causing a mad rush of heat to your face) that you had to take a moment before tentatively continuing to the door farthest from you.

Just as your hand brushes the handle, your hair falls over your face and without thinking, you sweep it away but the motion makes you pause abruptly. Slowly, your mind jogs back up to speed, your fingers combing through the messy locks in an attempt to smooth it out and suddenly you need a mirror. Actually, never mind a mirror, you probably should at least brush your teeth before heading out so recklessly!

Shamefaced, you change course, heading straight to the door you guessed was the en suite bathroom. The moment you opened the door, you're immediately taken aback. Much like the bedroom, the bathroom was quite big and so cleanly decorated with wide windows that take up one wall, offering whoever that was soaking in the Jacuzzi bathtub the same expansive view as the bedroom. Aside from the tub, there was also a glass shower stall big enough to fit at least four people at once despite having a bench inside, the stone marble matching in colour with the twin sink counter and cool grey tiles.

It takes you a moment to compose yourself again from being awestruck with the excessive bathroom and after much careful rifling in the medicine cabinet, you find a spare toothbrush and a travel sized toothpaste pack.

Teeth brushed and a little bit more refreshed from a splash of water to your face, you finally poke your head out of the door your had initially set your sights on. You find your previous suspicions correct as laid out before you was a hallway, the walls a warm cream beige colour that matched the carpet that continued outside the bedroom and any doors were of the same mahogany wood. It wasn't fairly long as you see just not far ahead, the carpeting stops at a threshold of sorts and leads off to another open space with dark granite flooring. Immediately, you're drawn out without hesitation because from the small glimpse alone, your eyes were already bugging out of your head.

So by the time you actually reached the end, you swear your jaw just about dropped off its hinges. The space you stumbled into was a living room, the size alone you think equalled to your kitchen, living room and bedroom, with its high ceilings, so tall that there's room to hang an equally large linear chandelier without appearing claustrophobic (in fact, the lighting fixture itself looked as if it could pass off as an expensive art installation) and if you had thought the view in the bedroom was extreme, you've been proven sorely wrong.

One side of the room is entirely made up of floor to ceiling windows, making the view even more vast with nothing obstructing it that if you had peered over, you would believed you were simply floating on a cloud in the sky, truly suspended in mid-air. Mounted on the wall adjacent to the panel of large glass was a sleek, electric fireplace, the flames dancing over small, white pebbled stones rather than wood and at the centre were long velvet couches surrounding a simple wood coffee table, all encircled by a lush white fur rug.

What's more, the other thing that had caught your attention was the set of floating stairs that lead up to another level of the penthouse – leading to what you're not sure. With your eyes so busily roaming about the entire area, you had failed to notice the person you've initially set out to look for until the very last moment, finally spotting his figure ahead in the kitchen situated under the large landing of the stairs. His back was turned towards you so all you saw was his tousled raven locks, the faint twinkling of his silver chained earrings and a loose fitting white tunic. Automatically, you smile, your heart easing and suddenly the splendour of this luxurious penthouse means nothing to you.

Despite your approach being fairly quiet, you knew it was no match for the heightened senses of a demon and without surprise, you see him turn his head slightly to acknowledge your presence just as you reach the island counter separating you from him.

“Slept well cherub?” He asks with a charming quirk of his lips.

You seat yourself on the breakfast stool, propping your arm on top of the marble counter top and hum, pretending to think.

“For Egyptian cotton, it wasn't too bad I guess.”

You get a chuckle from him before he turns his attention back to what's in front of him, and it's then that you smell the cooking of eggs and bacon. Instantly, your stomach gurgles, demanding to be fed and your cheeks colour at the loud sound it made. There's no way the demon in front of you could've missed it, even if he didn't have supernatural hearing. So as if prompted, he lifted the sizzling pan and dispensed its contents onto a pristine white plate sitting beside the stove, just as the toaster pinged.

You watch him take the single slice between his fingers before he faces you once more, presenting you a plate of creamy scrambled eggs, strips of crispy bacon and perfectly golden toast on the side.

“Sorry if it's a little lacking. I've found that throughout the years, I don't have a good grasp of flavours humans enjoy.” He apologizes. “Eggs and bacon are the few dishes you can't really go wrong with.”

You suppress the snort, accepting the plate gratefully nonetheless and not minding his forewarning – it made sense after all so you assured, “Hey, at least it looks edible and cooked well; already better than my own scrambled eggs and bacon.”

The smile he gives you makes his eyes crease into crescent moons, his cheeks rounding with a glimmer of mirth that makes him appear very boyish. He hands you a silver fork pulled from one of the drawers.

“Very sweet of you cherub.”

Your eyes squint and your cheeks puff up from the force of the exaggerated, syrupy sweet smile you give him, wiggling in your seat like a cheeky five year old as you lift your hand to take the utensil. You miss the crooked stretch of his lips so before you could close around the fork, he pulls it out of reach and lightly bonks the back of your hand with it. The shock of the metal hitting your knuckle jolts you and your eyes snap open in an instant, mouth open.

“Jimin!” You say, aghast but the sound is more or less void of any real offence as you act out cradling your 'injured' hand.

All he does is bark a single laugh and gesture to the fork for you to take again. “Eat up, food's getting cold.”

Not like you needed to be told twice, if not by Jimin then the sounds of your growling stomach. You gratefully begin to chew on the eggs and bacon (albeit they were on the bland side, but food is food and you ate happily). Meanwhile, Jimin busies himself making a cup of tea for you after he had asked your preferences and as he does, you both chatted, mainly about this apartment you didn't know he had.

“I rarely have any use for these places because I never really stay for long.” Jimin explains casually, sliding you a steaming mug as you finish your last bit of toast. “I use them if I have time or if I just want some place quiet to relax and not be disturbed.”

“Then what's the point of having a place so big?” You ask, exchanging your empty plate for the mug, wrapping it up in your hands to warm your palms.

He props up an elbow, leaning on the counter with a cheek resting in one palm and shrugs. “I can't deny I like nice things but in the end, it doesn't have any real value to me.” Here, a sly smile makes his way onto those pillowy soft lips. “You can have it if you want.”

The sentence nearly makes you spit out the tea you had so meticulously been blowing on and you cough, stammering, “I-It's fine! Don't joke like that!”

“I wasn't joking, I was being serious.”

The way Jimin said it was so matter of fact that you could only blink in disbelief. After much floundering, you clear your throat, bringing up the mug closer to your face in hopes of shielding the heat that's spreading over your cheeks. “Still, there's no need. I can't possibly take your house.”

The demon in front of you puffs a chortle, still looking as carefree on the matter as ever, “If you ever change your mind, let me know.”

You grunt bemusedly, mumbling about how you wouldn't even know what to do with a place so big, before taking a slow sip of your tea, humming lightly at the warming feeling and the pleasant taste. Jimin watches you quietly, a content smile on his face. You try to seem unbothered but evidently, the effects of your newly blossomed relationship with him has yet to calm down and so, your heart fluttered in your chest incessantly the moment you locked gazes with those irises, dark as night that seem to only shine on you.

Suddenly, you find yourself in a paradox – while you feel like you're struggling to maintain eye contact with Jimin, no matter how much your eyes flit and wander aimlessly, in the end you're drawn back to him anyways. Rather shameless you think, but confidently, you could at least say that you can't be blamed.

You're not sure if it's the sun's rays, so freely beaming into the room from those large windows, or it's just Jimin, but he seems to emit an unexplained ethereal glow. Gone was the ashen paleness that had made his skin appear almost translucent, his complexion radiates a warm honeyed suppleness that you've missed seeing on him because with it, he looked so much livelier.

Wait.

Now that nothing is hindering your sights, you see clearly that any ailments on his features have been significantly reduced. The purplish dark circles that had clung under his eyes are gone, his cheeks don't seem to be so sunken in and even his raven black hair, tousled effortlessly, had a wonderful sheen as it fell in thick waves over his forehead.

It's with without a doubt, this Jimin in front of you right now really was indeed healthier.

Unconsciously you find your hand reaching out to his face as if wanting to confirm physically that this was no illusion or dream, making Jimin blink in surprise before he gently catches your hand mid-way.

“Something wrong cherub?”

“It's just,” You start, fingers automatically clasping in his hold and you absentmindedly think how soft and warm his hands were. “How are you feeling?”

The sudden question must've caught Jimin a little off guard so after a second of serious considerations, he replies, “I feel...pretty good?”

“You look pretty good too.” The words slip right out before you realized it but once you do, you pull your hand back hastily, flustered as you rambled. “Not that you don't always look good! Because you do! Because you know, you're a demon, master of disguises and all that, and you've even got on arguably one of the best looking faces on the planet so what I meant was you don't look like a ghost that's been dead for centuries anymore instead of a demon like you're supposed to be!”

Jimin, of course, didn't really bother to hide the toothy grin that's forming yet very graciously still moved the subject along in fear that you would pass out. “You do have a point – as you've seen and have been told, the effects of the transition were obvious on me. But,” He lifts up a hand to eye level, spreading his fingers and flipping it this way and that. “I...really do feel fine. Much better than I have for days.” The last admittance has his shapely brows furrowing, as if he couldn't believe it himself once he's said it aloud.

“Is there any sort of explanation for this?” You ask.

Then, after some pondering, he slowly let his hand fall to his side and hummed, “There are...a few number of possibilities I can think of. The most likely one is that unconsciously, I might've taken some energy from you.”

“Taken from me? When did – oh...” It clicked just as the sentence was coming out and instantly your face flushes, eyes wide. Jimin's brow rose, his lips twitching imperceptibly at the corner and you rush, clearing your throat to cover up. “I thought that was like....a specific ability you needed to have, unless you mean to tell me you're an incubus...”

Jimin snorts, bringing a fist up to cover his mouth before he said, “No cherub, I'm not. All demons possess this ability to a certain degree but most usually lean towards certain affinities. Unless you're specifically an incubus, there are other way demons can gain sustenance or a source for their power other than taking energy directly from humans.”

At such news, your own brows raise in curiousity and you can't help but to ask. “Then what do you usually use?”

“Oh the usual; fear, invoking murderous intent, enticing those into depravity.” Jimin lightly lists off, as if he's talking about hobbies he likes to do on a lazy Sunday.

“Hah....” You shouldn't be so surprised. “Well, either way, as long as you're feeling better.”

Jimin hums noncommittally, distractedly reaching out to tuck a strand of fallen hair behind your ear and though his face is mostly impassive, you get the feeling that he was still deeply mulling over this. But the pensive look soon disappears, his eyes going slightly hooded as something else had caught his attention, his focus going to a place on your neck. You felt the hand brushing your hair come to a slow too and shivered when the pads lightly graze the skin there, trailing a path downwards before stopping.

“What a mess I've made.” The low rumbling murmur has your breath involuntarily hitching and your chin automatically tilts down to see what he was referring to. With his prodding, the collar of your robe had been pushed open to reveal the purplish colouring that mottled the surface of the skin along your collarbone and already without needing to see the full extent of the bruising, you know your neck is covered with them.

It was honestly something you hadn't thought about until it's been pointed out so the moment actually caught you off guard and in your stupor, you can only half coherently say, “Not like it hurts or anything...”

When his fingers draw the robe back a little further to get a clearer look, he unwittingly stumbles into another rather troubling thing.

“You're not dressed.”

“...Well, I was gonna shower....” You mumble, letting your eyes drift off from embarrassment. You hear Jimin breathe out a snicker.

“Dirty girl.”

You narrow your gaze back at him, pouting your lips. “Why don't you show me how to work your fancy expensive shower then.”

He laughs. “It's just a bunch of knobs cherub, how hard can it be?”

“Do you even shower?” You ask back accusingly, hands coming up to rest on your hips.

At that, he cocks his head, stepping back with arms crossed and almost haughtily, “I do, in fact, I already did shower this morning. I'm a little offended you would accuse me of having poor hygiene.”

You copy his pose and sniff, “Sure could've fooled me.”

It's obvious what a lie that was because out of the two of you, anyone could tell with one glance which one is likely to smell more like vanilla and peaches (not you), but you can't help making it a habit to poke the tiger when it's asleep.

Sure enough, Jimin's mouth drops open, looking at you incredulously and an actual hint of mild offence. Then he puffs out a scoff, lips quirking up at the corner and suddenly you don't like that glint in his eyes. In a frighteningly calm manner, Jimin lowers his arms and then smiled serenely, only it came off more creepy than reassuring.

“Y/N ~ ....” He singsongs and as if the impending danger has heightened your senses, you see him subtly shift his weight and it's all you need to whip around and take off running, squealing as you go. Probably not the greatest idea since how the hell do you expect to outrun a demon but when you heard the sounds of his jovial laughing right behind you, you think at least some good came out of it.

#guardian demon!jimin #jimin x reader #jimin x oc #jimin x you #demon!jimin #demon!jimin x reader #jimin reader insert #bts fanfic #jimin fanfic #jimin fanfics #jimin fics #jimin fic #bts supernatural au #bts fic #jimin scenario #park jimin fanfic #park jimin fic #park jimin x read #jimin fluff #jimin angst #park jimin imagines #jimin imagine #park jimin x reader insert #jimin reader insert fic

[vanderlindemorgans]

Cross My Heart (Chapter 1)

Pairing: Agent Whiskey x Reader

Rating: Explicit/18+

Summary:  A traitorous Agent Whiskey returns to the United States on the run. Being cast out by Statesman, he soon finds that you're the only person he can turn to - the embittered former flame from years long passed

Word count: 2.6k 

Warnings: Eventual smut, some references to alcoholism and drug use. Reader is in her late twenties but there is an age gap between her and Whiskey. Chapter specific warnings include some graphic descriptions of blood and injuries and some alcohol consumption. Also I know nothing about Texas or horses. 

Read on AO3 | Next Chapter | Masterlist

To say things hadn’t gone to plan would be a dramatic understatement. In his case, however, the results of his arrival in Cambodia had proved even more disastrous than he could have ever imagined. Though really, if he’d have stopped to think about it for even just a second, he would have seen that his plan was doomed to fail from the beginning.

Stalking through the busy streets of Dallas, Jack tried his best to keep as low of a profile as possible - you never knew who could be wandering the city searching for him, and after the stunt he pulled with Eggsy and Harry it could almost be guaranteed that he had some sort of warrant on his head. It was probably foolish of him to even come back to the United States in the first place, but really, where else did he have to go?

He didn’t entirely know where he was going now either. He couldn’t return home, as it would most likely be swarming with Statesman agents and the like hunting for him. He was almost certainly cast out of Statesman for his actions by now, so any former friends he could usually turn to in situations like this would be of no help at this point, considering everything that happened. For once in his life, Jack was well and truly alone. The acknowledgement of that fact itself did nothing to alleviate his anxieties, only doing more to further the ever growing void in his stomach. His eyes darted between the various passersby, none of them taking a single notice of him to his relief. He’d have expected to draw more attention to himself, in fact when he stopped to take a gander at his reflection in one of the shop windows he passed by he was almost stumped as to how he had managed to keep under the radar so well - you couldn’t much see it with the way he kept his head down, but upon closer inspection one could easily spot the large nasty gash of blood split across the side of his cheek, complimenting several different bruises that were forming underneath. His clothes were either torn from navigating through the thicket of the Cambodian jungle or scuffed from his confrontation with the two Kingsman agents. The only part of him that was still in almost perfect condition was his damned hat, surprisingly enough. In the most blatant use of the term, he looked like an absolute wreck. If he weren’t on edge from the constant vigilance of potentially running into one of his former colleagues, he might’ve laughed at himself over it.  

Escaping from Eggsy and Harry had been the easy part - they’d left him tied up with his own lasso off to the side, but in all the confusion and spate of heroics in trying to distribute the antidote, they had neglected to keep any sort of watch on him. From there on, all it took was the simple slice of a knife he had hidden away in his back pocket and just like that, he’d slipped away into the shadows, running for his life through the thick and sweltering heat of the jungle. He’d wanted to retreat back to the plane he’d used to travel there in the first place but upon realising that Statesman could use radar to track him, he instead was forced to navigate himself to a nearby airfield used for moving cargo. After that it was just a matter of stowing away on one of the planes to ensure his arrival back in America, touching down in Dallas of all places. Jack was fully aware that he was lucky to have his life - if things had gone differently he’d have ended up with a bullet in his head or something much worse. For that much at least he was somewhat grateful for. Somewhat.

Almost as if by instinct, he drifted towards a bar in the downtown area of the city, stumbling in and being assaulted by the smoke-scented air that greeted him the moment he opened the door. It was by no means a classy place, yet he didn’t much care in that moment. Any place was better than aimlessly wandering the streets like a stray mutt. Striding through the crowds of patrons ranging from tipsy to drunk, he came up towards the bar and pulled a couple of notes from the inside of his jacket pocket. “A glass of whiskey, if ya will” he requested, sliding the notes over to the disinterested bartender on the other side of the counter. Some part of him felt stupid for ordering the drink of his agent namesake, but some side of him felt like reminiscing on old times a bit. In light of him going rogue, they’d most likely be passing on that codename to another agent. Probably to Ginger most likely. He caught himself sneering at the thought of her, a deep burning sense of hate starting to fester in him. He never did like her much.

Taking the glass of whiskey in his hand, he let the warm rush of liquid seep down his throat, feeling consumed by the blazing burn it left on his tongue. So this was how it all ended for him: hiding out in a dingy dive bar, drinking himself to death while he waited for the inevitable. His mind ran over all of his options from there on, running down the short list in less than a minute tops. He had no job, no friends, nowhere to run to, no-one to turn to.

Unless…

Jack’s mind began to nag on something, a faint memory from years long since passed starting to resurface, the face of someone he hadn’t thought of in what felt like forever creeping into his thoughts gradually. He was in Dallas, right? An idea began to form in his head, recalling days spent during the summer out on a ranch north of the city, of your warm smile and intoxicating eyes that one could get lost in. Waving over the bartender, he pondered on his idea further. Would you even want to see him after all this time? He remembered the way things ended between the both of you, the bitterness and bad blood that most likely still lingered.

It was possibly an idiotic idea to begin with. Hell, you might not even be in Dallas anymore: the last time the two of you spoke was at least a good seven years. But it was the only option he had left. Throwing his head back and downing the last remnants of whiskey in his glass, he threw down a couple of extra notes for the bartender on the counter and sauntered off, fully sure of his next course of action. Like it or not, you were his best chance he had of survival. He just hoped that you didn’t hate him too much to turn him away after everything that he put you through.

___

Wiping a line of sweat from your brow, you found yourself cursing the suffocating summer heat. After living there for so many years you thought you’d be used to it but every June through to August the intensity of the blistering sun always managed to take you by surprise. If only you could simply relax a little, lounge by the pool sipping on cognac and smelling of lilacs, without a single care in the world. Instead, you were out in the sun, tending to each of the horses that your ranch housed. You ran a horse riding ranch only a couple of hours outside Dallas, tucked away in the deep necks of the Texan countryside. It was originally your parents business, and you’d practically lived there your whole life. It wasn’t your original plan to take over the family business, some part of you angling for something more than life as a simple ranch hand but when both of them tragically passed only a few years before, you felt you owed it to them in a way to take up the mantle to keep things running as smoothly as possible. Some things didn’t take much adjustment in a way  - you’d already known the procedure for cleaning the stables and tending to the horses like the back of your hand, and the inheritance money left behind had made it easier to pack everything up out of your small  city apartment to move back home on such short notice. The thing that did take some getting used to was their absence. Stepping back into their well loved home, seeing the photos still hanging on the walls, the folded pages of the books your mother kept on her bedside that would never be opened again, the places where they should be but simply weren’t - that wrecked you more than anything you could ever imagine.

At first you didn’t even sleep inside the house - it was just too painful to see them everywhere around you, and you couldn’t bring yourself to remove the cheerful family photos from the walls, even if it was only for a little while. The first two months back home were spent in the backseat of your car, curled up with a blanket that you’d managed to drag out from the house. You tried to carry on with business as usual but everything felt bleak around you. Some part of you wanted to blame someone, anyone for what happened. Sometimes you’d felt tempted to blame yourself in some way. Eventually, things did become easier. The emotional weight started to lift, and you were able to get through the day without having to take five to pull yourself together. Nothing was the same as before, but the flow of your life started to settle and become something resembling normal again. And that, in your opinion, was probably the best way it could have turned out.

Doing a onceover the stables to check everything was in its correct place, you pulled the large doors closed and surveyed the landscape around you, taking in the stunning visual of the sun beginning to dip below the skyline, mellowing out into a lively and beautiful sunset. With the front gates locked and everything with the horses all taken care of, you trudged back up to the house at the centre of the property, your mind drifting to the glass of liquor you intended to pour yourself the minute you got inside. It had been a long day, full of tiresome frustrations and irritations. Being in the middle of July, your ranch saw frequent visitors, including kids who were out of school and being taken out of the city on a sort of day trip by their parents. That day in particular had involved a birthday party for some kid, and you’d been out there giving riding lessons to the whole group of them.

Usually lessons were conducted by one of your other employees but in cases of events you tended to take on more tasks yourself. To be perfectly blunt about it, the day had gone horribly. Surprisingly enough, the kids were fine, no, the real piece of work was the birthday boy's mother. She’d insisted on trying to take control of every single aspect of the event and was overly critical of every little thing you did, and was an all round exhausting person to deal with. When the party was finally over and everyone had packed up and left, you remembered breathing a huge sigh of relief and thinking “thank fuck, she’s gone”.

Twisting open the front door to your house, you tossed your keys off to the side and immediately set off in search of something to drink. Grazing your fingertips along the refined wooden edges of your liquor cabinet, you pulled on the handles and reached your hand in to select a bottle. What you really wanted was something strong to take off that stressful edge of the day behind you. You felt your eyes settle on a bottle of Jack Daniels whiskey stuffed towards the back and couldn’t help but smirk to yourself, a vague memory teetering on the precipice of your mind. Shaking the thought away, you instead choose a bottle of bourbon, placing it on top of the cabinet as you reach for one of the empty glasses stored inside. As you poured a glass for yourself, you felt your mind get lost in a haze, wandering between the events of the past few hours and what you’d planned to do with the rest of your night, and, admittedly something you were ashamed to say, a lingering thought to do with that bottle of whiskey you’d passed on over before. Fucking Jack Daniels, I swear to god…

Your body might as well have been on autopilot then, as you didn’t take any conscious note of anything other than the burn of liquor on your lips. If you hadn’t been so distracted you might have noticed it earlier - the distant sound of footsteps coming closer up the driveway to your house, the sounds turning into thuds the nearer they got. Too lost in your thoughts and too tired from the nightmarish day you endured, you were only pulled from the depths of memory by a loud bang on the front door. Furrowing your brow, you shot a confused and worried glance over to the front of the house, already beginning to feel alerted and wary. Who the hell could that be at this hour?

There was another bang on the door, this one more insistent than the last, and you felt yourself jump at the suddenness of it. Would it even be safe to go answer it? For a minute, you contemplated the idea of ignoring it and pretending you weren’t home, however once you realised whoever was outside could most likely see the lights on from the windows you dismissed that idea with disappointment. You’d have to go answer it, you knew that, but something didn’t feel right to you. Cautiously rising up out of your seat, you took a small step towards the entryway of the house, and through the fear managed to call out “Who’s there?”.

Taking another moment to contemplate whether or not it would be worth fetching a gun for this, you heard the voice of the person on the other side answer back, a voice that had you freeze in a mixture of shock and disbelief the instant you heard it. “Darlin'? It’s...it’s Jack, could you…”.

You didn’t even give him a chance to finish his sentence before you had bolted to the door, hastily unlocking the deadbolt and ripping it open to reveal him standing before you. Something in your heart stopped the second you saw him - he was the one person who you never, ever, in a million years ever expected to see again, much less on your front doorstep. You drank in his appearance, the first thing your eyes being drawn to was the large bloody slash across his cheek. His eyes were looking down at you pleadingly, a look you weren’t used to seeing on him. From when you’d known him he’d always looked so confident, so self-assured and pulled together, so to see him so browbeaten and, dare you say, defeated, unnerved you in a way. You could feel your mouth hanging open slightly, the words being there but your mouth being unable to form them, your eyes only fixated on his own dark and vanquished gaze as your mind raced a million miles a minute. There was so much you wanted to say, to ask, yet the only thing you were capable of verbalising in your shock was the one question that pushed itself to the forefront of your mind.

“Jesus fuck, Jack, what the hell happened to you?”.

#agent whiskey #agent whiskey x reader #jack daniels x reader #jack daniels #kingsman #kingsman: the golden circle #kingsman fanfiction #yes i write reader insert fic now what about it

[mytwilightimagines13]

Memories from the past (Part five)(Caius Volturi)

Word count: 2043

The street was very narrow, cobbled with the same colour stones as the faded cinnamon brown buildings that darkened the street with their shade. It had the feel of an alleyway. Red flags decorated the walls, spaced only a few yards apart, flapping in the wind that whistled through the narrow lane. It was crowded, and the foot traffic slowed our progress. We found another street at the end. The buildings were taller here; they leaned together overhead so that no sunlight touched the pavement—the thrashing red flags on either side nearly met. The crowd was thicker here than anywhere else. We continued the walk through the shadows, even when we reached the plaza with the clock tower in the middle. Coming out of the dark lane, I was blinded by the brilliant sunlight beating down into the principal plaza. The wind whooshed into me, flinging my hair into my eyes and blinding me further. I pushed urgently toward it, not realizing till I bruised my shins against the bricks that there was a wide, square fountain set into the center of the plaza. I glanced up at the clock again. Some sort of pull lured me towards it.

A deep, booming chime echoed through the square. It throbbed in the stones under my feet. Children cried, covering their ears. Alice pulled me towards them back into the shadows. The clock tolled again. We ran past a child in his mother's arms—his hair was almost white in the dazzling sunlight. A circle of tall men, all wearing red blazers, called out warnings as we barrelled through them. The clock tolled again. On the other side of the men in blazers, there was a break in the throng, space between the sightseers who milled aimlessly around me. My eyes searched the dark narrow passage to the right of the wide square edifice under the tower. I couldn't see the street level—there were still too many people in the way. The clock tolled again. It was hard to see now. Without the crowd to break the wind, it whipped at my face and burned my eyes. That was the way we went, towards even more shadows. Edward walked in front of me while Alice walked behind me, gently pushing me into the right direction. I was so mesmerised by the small town and the beautiful plaza it contained that I hadn’t seen the two dark shapes detach themselves from the gloom. "Greetings, gentlemen," Edward's voice was calm and pleasant. “The girl as promised.” “And no harm done. We made sure of that.” Alice said, her hand still on my lower back. "Very well. Shall we take this conversation to a more appropriate venue?" a smooth voice whispered menacingly. “Very well.” Alice said as she gently pushed me for ward. “I will take it from here, miss.” The smooth voice spoke again, walking closer towards me. “Very well, Demetri.” Alice said as she took a step back and the other took a step closer to me, now occupying the spot Alice just seconds ago held. I finally dared to take a closer look at the newcomers. They were both concealed within smoky gray cloaks that reached to the ground and undulated in the wind. The second, taller man still hadn’t moved, but I felt his glare on me. “How can we be sure this isn’t some trick?” he asked. “Your Masters can confirm that it isn’t, as you should know, Felix.” Edward said in a harsh tone. The one named Felix growled at him. Wait, what? Humans can’t growl. "Felix," the second, more reasonable shadow named Demetri cautioned. "Not here." He turned to Edward. "My apologies, Edward. We have had some… disappointments in the past. That is all." My eyes were adjusting to the deep shade, and I could see that Felix was very big, tall and thick through the shoulders. Felix and Demetri stole closer toward the mouth of the alley, spreading out slightly so they could come at us from two sides, forcing us closer into the alley. "Let's behave ourselves, shall we?" Alice suggested. "There are ladies present." "Enough." The voice was high, reedy, and n came from behind us. I peeked under Edward's other arm to see a small, dark shape coming toward us. By the way the edges billowed, I knew it would be another one of them. Who else? At first I thought it was a young boy. The newcomer was as tiny as Alice, with lank, pale brown hair trimmed short. The body under the cloak—which was darker, almost black—was slim and androgynous. But the face was too pretty for a boy. The wide-eyed, full-lipped face would make a Botticelli angel look like a gargoyle. Even allowing for the dull crimson irises. Her size was so insignificant that the reaction to her appearance confused me. Felix and Demetri relaxed immediately, stepping back from their offensive positions to blend again with the shadows of the overhanging walls. Edward dropped his arms and relaxed his position as well—but in defeat. "Jane," he sighed in recognition and resignation. Alice folded her arms across her chest, her expression impassive. "Follow me," Jane spoke again, her childish voice a monotone. She turned her back on us and drifted silently into the dark. Felix gestured for us to go first, smirking. Alice walked after the little Jane at once, Edward following her at once. “After you, mia bella signora.” Demetri said as he gently pushed me to follow them, my confusion most

likely clear on my face. The alley angled slightly downward as it narrowed. My mind was racing as my feet moved forward on automatic pilot mode. What was going on? Where these people some kind of cult? Would I be sacrificed to their blood lusting god? There was a loose curve to the alley, still slanting downward, so I didn't see the squared-off dead end coming until we reached the flat, windowless, brick face. The little one called Jane was nowhere to be seen. Alice didn't hesitate, didn't break pace as she strode toward the wall. Then, with easy grace, she slid down an open hole in the street. It looked like a drain, sunk into the lowest point of the paving. I hadn't noticed it until Alice disappeared, but the grate was halfway pushed aside. The hole was small, and black. I stopped dead in my tracks. “With all due respect, I refuse to simply fall to my death thank you very much.” I said, trying to find a way to run far away from these people. “No worries, signora. Just close your eyes and I assure you that you will be safe.” Demetri said as he gently placed his hands around my waist. I sighed in defeat, knowing there was no way out of this. I was doomed. Death was approaching with every heartbeat. “Very well.” I closed my eyes so I couldn't see the darkness, scrunching them together in terror, clamping my mouth shut so I wouldn't scream. I felt Demetri pick me up slightly and jump down the hole. It was silent and short. The air whipped past me for just half a second, and then, with a huff as I exhaled, he gracefully landed on the floor without a sound. Demetri stood me upright and placed his hand on my back again, ready to guide me forwards. It was dim, but not black at the bottom. The light from the hole above provided a faint glow, reflecting wetly from the stones under my feet. Felix jumped behind us and we continued our stroll in silence. The sound of the heavy grate sliding over the drain hole behind us rang with metallic finality. The dim light from the street was quickly lost in the gloom. The sound of my staggering footsteps echoed through the black space; it sounded very wide, but I couldn't be sure. There were no sounds other than my frantic heartbeat and my feet on the wet stones. The path beneath our feet continued to slant downward, taking us deeper into the ground, and it made me claustrophobic. I couldn't tell where the light was coming from, but it slowly turned dark gray instead of black. We were in a low, arched tunnel. Long trails of ebony moisture seeped down the gray stones, like they were bleeding ink. We hurried through the tunnel, or it felt like hurrying to me. At the end of the tunnel was a grate—the iron bars were rusting, but thick as my arm. A small door made of thinner, interlaced bars was standing open. We all ducked through and hurried on to a larger, brighter stone room. The grille slammed shut with a clang, followed by the snap of a lock. I was too afraid to look behind me. On the other side of the long room was a low, heavy wooden door. It was very thick—as I could tell.

We were in a brightly lit and unremarkable hallway. The walls were off-white, the floor carpeted in industrial gray. Common rectangular fluorescent lights were spaced evenly along the ceiling. It was warmer here, for which I was grateful. This hall seemed very benign after the gloom of the ghoulish stone sewers. The heavy door creaked shut behind us, and then there was the thud of a bolt sliding home. Jane waited by the elevator, one hand holding the doors open for us. Her expression was apathetic. Once inside the elevator, the three figures with cloaks seemed to relax further. They threw back their cloaks, letting the hoods fall back on their shoulders. Felix and Demetri were both of a slightly olive complexion—it looked odd combined with their chalky pallor. Felix's black hair was cropped short, but Demetri's waved to his shoulders. Their irises were deep crimson around the edges, darkening until they were black around the pupil. Under the shrouds, their clothes were modern, pale, and nondescript. I cowered in the corner, cringing against the wall, their red eyes freaking me out even more. They were most defiantly a cult. And I was the stupid lamb that jumped happily and unknowingly into their bloody arms. Bloody hell. Stupid lamb I am. The elevator ride was short; we stepped out into what looked like a posh office reception area. The walls were panelled in wood, the floors carpeted in thick, deep green. There were no windows, but large, brightly lit paintings of the Tuscan countryside hung everywhere as replacements. Pale leather couches were arranged in cosy groupings, and the glossy tables held crystal vases full of vibrantly coloured bouquets. The flowers' smell reminded me of a funeral home. In the middle of the room was a high, polished mahogany counter. I gawked in astonishment at the woman behind it. She was tall, with dark skin and green eyes. She smiled politely in welcome. "Good afternoon, Jane," she said. Jane nodded. "Gianna." She continued toward a set of double doors in the back of the room, and we followed. As Felix passed the desk, he winked at Gianna, and she giggled. On the other side of the wooden doors was a different kind of reception. The pale boy in the pearl gray suit could have been Jane's twin. His hair was darker, and his lips were not as full, but he was just as lovely. He came forward to meet us. He smiled, reaching for her. "Jane." "Alec," she responded, embracing the boy. They kissed each other's cheeks on both sides. Then he looked at the group before his eyes landed on me with curiosity. "Is this really her?" he noted, looking at me. Jane nodded, a proud look on her face. "Nice work." She laughed—the sound sparkled with delight like a baby's cooing. "The Masters will be so glad to finally meet you, madam. Master Caius and Mistress Athenodora especially.” Alec said, speaking to me directly now. I only looked at him in confusion "Let's not keep them waiting," Jane suggested. Alec and Jane, holding hands, led the way down yet another wide, ornate hall. Yup. I was going to die. To some weird BDSM cult… great. Stupid little lamb I am.

#caius volturi #athenodora volturi #volturi #volturi imagine #twilight imagine #twilight #vampire

[iliveiloveiwrite]

Stormy weather

A/N: THE LONGEST FIC I HAVE EVER WRITTEN. As I was writing it, I started to hate the reader lmao so I'm hoping I have redeemed them. I am hoping it flows as you read, that you can see the change in time without having to add ‘time skip’. I hope you enjoy! If you would like to be added to a taglist, let me know, I’ll happily create one! Please like and/or reblog.

Title: Emmy Raver-Lampman - Stormy Weather (originally sung by Etta James)

Pairing: Young!Sirius Black x Reader

Summary: You didn’t realise that a change in seating plan could lead to this.

Requested: Nope

Warnings: some angst, some fluff, some swearing 

Word count: 4.1k

You felt silly – no, you felt stupid.

Two years… two years you had managed to keep your love for Sirius Black quiet. He barely even noticed you on a good day; you hadn’t known where these feelings had come from, yet they were very much present. It had all started when the class had been assigned a seating plan; the teacher had moved you and Black together so there was no choice on his end – he had to talk to you if there was pair work set, and there nearly always was.

There was no reason for you to socialise. You were in the same house, but he had the Marauders, and you had yours. Sirius Black was known amongst the girls of Hogwarts for being ridiculously attractive but also as a notorious flirt – it was your luck that you had a crush on the one boy who would never wholly be yours. There was the occasional overlap when it came to parties in the common room which you rarely attended but for the most part, a word had never been spoke between the two of you until this class.

At the end of the lesson, you were packing away your things, very much glad that you had a free period next so you could try and get ahead on the homework that was beginning to pile up. It looked as if you free periods and your evenings would be spent in the library trying to keep on top of the workload that accompanied an exam year.

A quiet voice next you pulls you out of the routine of packing away, “(Y/N)?”

You turn to Sirius, “Yes?”

He smiles politely at you, “Would you be able to help me with what we’ve covered? I’m struggling slightly in this subject.”

You raise your eyebrows at him in surprise. He may be a prankster, and doesn’t necessarily take everything seriously, but nobody could deny that Sirius Black wasn’t smart. All of the Marauders were.

“Really? You want me to help you?”

He chuckles, “Yes. I’m not completely understanding the context for wizard involvement within the Great Muggle War.”

You nod, “Sure, I’ll help you. When are you next free? We could meet at the library?”

“I’m free now, actually. If you have time, that is?”

“So am I. Let’s head to the library now, I know some good books that can help us.”

Sirius starts to pack his things away while you wait for him. You sigh inwardly, the pile of homework is going to get bigger, but you knew that you wouldn’t be able to deny Sirius. He’s too handsome, and your feelings definitely get in the way.

“Are you ready?” Sirius asks.

“I am. Let’s go read about Muggle wars!” You cheer.

Sirius laughs loudly. You walk together to the library, talking aimlessly to each other. By the time you arrive at the Library, Sirius has you breathless from laughter as he recalls one of the many adventures of the Marauders. From the minute you enter the Library, you know that there is an extremely high chance of you being shushed by Madam Pince.

Steering Sirius towards the right section, you start to whisper about the causes of the First Muggle War. “It had been brewing for a while, there were tensions between the countries surrounding growing militaries and navies, growing empires and such.”

“How does that relate to the wizarding world?”

“The minute war broke out, the Minster for Magic had to be alerted. Archer Evermonde passed a piece of legislation that forbade wizards from fighting in the war. It was a key moment in wizarding history. However, he Minister had to understand that regardless of what he decided, wizards would volunteer, look at Theseus Scamander.”

Sirius opens his mouth to ask another question, but he is interrupted by the rest of the Marauders.

“Padfoot! We wondered where you had gotten to!” James shouts, earning a hush from Madam Pince.

“You’ve found me.”

“Padfoot?” You ask, raising an eyebrow in question.

“My nickname.” Sirius explains.

The rest of the Marauders had joined you at table you shared with Sirius, their eyes looking over the reading material sprawled across it.

“We didn’t know you were struggling with this, Sirius. We could have helped you; you didn’t need to bother poor (Y/N) here.”

“It’s not a bother!” You almost shout, a little too quickly, all attention is now on you and you can feel the tell-tale blush make its way to your cheeks, “I mean,” you start, trying again, “it isn’t a bother at all. I love this topic, wizard involvement within both Muggle world wars interests me, I could talk about it all day. Sirius wasn’t being a bother at all asking me for help.”

Both James and Remus lift an eyebrow each at your explanation. They can completely sense your feelings for Sirius, and you want to slide under the table right about now, your heart going ten to the dozen.

Sirius chuckles, “You see, I’m not being a bother at all. You two are though, bugger off.”

Remus laughs at him, “Okay, okay. James, come on, let’s leave them too it.”

Remus pats James on the shoulder, they both start to depart with a goodbye to both Sirius and you.

Your heart rate has started to settle down, but then Sirius smiles at you and it kicks back into action again.

“Where were we?” He asks.

Checking your watch, you utter, “I’m sorry, I’ve got to go. I’ve got potions with Slughorn and I really don’t want to be late.”

Sirius nods, understanding. “Of course, can we meet again though? I like studying with you, you’re a really good teacher.”

You blush harder, if that’s even possible. “Thank you, Sirius, that means a lot. How about tomorrow evening in the common room?”

“That sounds great, see you there.”

Gathering your things, you wave a final goodbye to Sirius before heading to Potions. You would be brewing Liquid Luck today and you needed to focus, however your mind kept drifting back to Sirius. You felt like a teenager with her first crush, it seemed like Sirius had taken up your entire mind, the butterflies in your stomach fluttered every time you thought of the study session tomorrow evening. Twice, Slughorn had to pull your attention back to the class, it looked like when Sirius was on your mind, your mind went to goo.

The following day passed by slowly as if it knew that you had something to look forward to. Classes dragged and more than one teacher had to bring your attention back to the class since your mind had wandered off to what could possibly happen that evening.

You had seen Sirius once all day; at lunch where he waved at you from his place further down the table where he sat with the Marauders. “Are we still on for this evening, (Y/N)?”, he had shouted causing multiple heads to turn towards you.

You blushed deeply, “We are! I’ll see you this evening, Sirius.”

He smiled widely at your answer and threw a thumbs up before leaving the Great Hall with the Marauders.

That had been hours ago, and you were finally in your last class of the day. You were never normally eager to leave a lesson, but you had fallen into your feelings for Sirius and well, you wanted to see him even if he didn’t feel the same way as you.

Finally dismissed, you practically sprinted to your common room so you could change into comfortable clothes and grab the books you thought you may need.

You meet Sirius at a table in the corner of the common room; an intimate choice you note with the warmth of the fire wrapping you in a bubble. You also notice the rest of the Marauders not too far away, watching with eager arms – both James and Remus wiggle their eyebrows at Sirius.

“Okay,” You start, sitting down. “Where did we get to yesterday?”

Sirius beams at you, and you begin to study.

Two hours you sat there; studying for the first part of it, talking for the second part. Both of you had sat there and talked about anything and everything – Sirius asking question after question on you and your family; what were they like? Did you have siblings? All sorts was asked, and you didn’t mind opening up to him. You knew better than to ask about his family, it wasn’t a secret that he had run away from home and was living with James. However, you did ask him about his friends – what they did, how did they come to know one another.

Conversation flowed between the two of you until you couldn’t stop yawning. You decided then that it was time to wrap things up.

“I’ve really enjoyed myself tonight, Sirius.”

He quickly agrees, adding “I feel I understand the Great Muggle War a lot better now.”

“Good, I’m glad.” You answer, tidying up your books and notes.

Sirius grabs your hand, squeezes it gently before he brings it up to his lips and presses a small kiss to the back of it. Again, you’ve been reduced speechless and blushing by the teenager in front of you – you needed to do something about that.

“Goodnight, Sirius. I’m sure I’ll see you at some point tomorrow.”

“Goodnight, (Y/N). See you tomorrow.”

You pull your hand from his, and before your judgement can get the better of you, you place a lingering kiss to his cheek.

As you head back to your dormitory, you don’t see Sirius press his hand to his cheek in disbelief. His cheeks aflame with the mere touch of your lips to his skin.

Time with Sirius simply flew by. You didn’t realise how quick time passed when you were with him until you were rushing to class in the hopes of not being late. Sirius seemed to occupy your mind and your time; he could be a distraction, but you always managed to get some work done, and he helped you with topics you weren’t entirely confident on. The both of you had grown closer to the other, you had started spending time with all of the Marauders, but you were with Sirius for the majority of the time. It did nothing to help your feelings for him; they simply grew until you were fairly certain you were in love with him. At least, that what your dorm mates told you, they had pointed out how obvious it was that you both had feelings for each other and whilst you had confirmed yours to them, you believed that Sirius did not feel the same way, that he simply saw you as a good friend and study partner.

It is through one of your study sessions when Sirius interrupts your speech about wizarding society in the inter-war years focusing on the adventures of Newt Scamander and the publication of his book. He didn’t like to interrupt you, because not only did he not understand this aspect of the subject, but you got so animated and passionate that it brought out a side of you he adored, but he really needed to ask you something.

“Look, we’re throwing a party in the common room this Friday night. Will you come?”

“You’re inviting me to a party?”

“I am. Will you come?”

“I think I will.”

Sirius smiles at you, knocking you slightly breathless. Then he kisses you the cheek and you’re pretty certain that you’ve died now because his lips made contact with your skin and your heartrate hit the sky.

“Good, I’ll see you there.”

“You’ll see me beforehand, but yes you’ll see me there.” You whisper, too breathless to try to speak normally.

Friday came too quickly for your liking; you hadn’t even picked out an outfit which had led to your latest predicament - your entire wardrobe spread across the whole dormitory. It didn’t matter what your dorm mates said, you couldn’t find anything to wear and you were starting to feel like a stereotype in a bad film.

“Okay, that’s it. I’m calling it – I’m going to pick what you’re wearing and you’re going to deal with it.” Your dorm mate, Jenny states as she places her hand on the small of your back and guides you to your bed.

“Are you sure?”

“I’ve known you for what? Five/six years? I’m sure, now hush and let me work.”

You’re silent as Jenny goes through your wardrobe, placing item against item seeing what goes together.

“You must really like him.” Jenny murmurs.

“I really do. It honestly started as a little crush because he was pleasing to the eyes, and now that I’ve gotten to know him… well I’m worried that this could be it for me. That one great love all your books go on about.”

Jenny throws a blouse in your face, “You love those books, don’t hate on them.”

You laugh at her, feeling more at ease now than you had felt all day.

“Here you go, wear these and if he doesn’t kiss you by the end of the night, then I’ll hurl my romance books out of the astronomy tower.”

“I’ll hold you to that, I hope you know.”

She presses a kiss to your cheek, “I know, now get changed, I’m going to sort out my makeup.”

You change into the clothes that Jenny had chosen for you; figure hugging maroon flares that you didn’t realise you owned, with an airy white blouse that when tied at the front, showed enough of your stomach to not make you entirely self-conscious.  

When Jenny returns from the bathroom, she wolf-whistles and you contemplate throwing a show at her. She links her arms with yours and you head down to the common room, where you can hear music start to play.

You didn’t know parties would be so warm; it explained why so many got drunk at these things. Not just for pleasure, but to also cool down. Sirius had met you not long after you entered the common room, he kissed your cheek and complimented your outfit. You had thanked him, blushing all the while. You had wondered when you were going to get a grip in such things.

Music was playing, drinks were flowing, and you were enjoying yourself. You found yourself dancing with Jenny more often than not. You had danced with Sirius a couple of times, but he kept getting pulled away somewhere else. You had to admit it annoyed you, but he was the one throwing the party.

Deciding that you had had enough of dancing, you head back to the drinks table and grab yourself a drink that was definitely more alcohol than mixer. Jenny sidles up next to you, shouting over the music, “I think you’ve caught his attention.”

You grin widely, the alcohol taking over “Do you think?”

She nods, “He hasn’t been able to take his eyes off you all night.”

You feel giddy, elated. “I really like him.”

Jenny nods, “I know you do. He’s coming this way though, so maybe tell him, and not me.”

Jenny takes you by the shoulders and turns you around to face Sirius from where he’s walking across the common room to you. Jenny is still holding your shoulders when Sirius’ attention is pulled away from you and onto another girl. Jenny is also there when Sirius and the mystery girl start to kiss.

The breath is knocked out of you, Jenny’s hands slip from your shoulders, and you make your escape. Only just managing to get to your dorm room before starting to sob mercilessly.

Sirius pulls away from the girl immediately. His eyes search the room for you, but he can’t place you. He does find you friend Jenny watching him from the drinks table.

“Where is (Y/N)?”

“She left, Sirius.”

“Why? What happened? Is she okay?”

“I don’t think she is; she saw you kiss that girl.”

“Shit.”

“Shit indeed, Mr Black.”

“I didn’t kiss her, she kissed me.”

Jenny places a hand on Sirius’ arm, “It isn’t me you need to tell that to. She really likes you; I have never seen her this way about a boy before. Please be kind.”

“I will. I really like her as well, I’ve never felt this way about a girl, the last thing I want to do is screw this up.”

“I’m going to go check on her, I’ll see you later Sirius.”

Jenny leaves, while Sirius stands at the drinks table, planning out what he needs to do.

The rest of the night passes in a blur of tears; Jenny is there holding you through it, offering tissues and dramatic retellings of her romance books. Sirius tries to talk to you, but Jenny goes to the door, telling him it would be best to let the alcohol wear off and speak with sober minds. He understands, and he leaves.

The week after the party is emotional hell. All you want to do is fall back into your routine from before and sit with Sirius, but you simply couldn’t. he had cornered you in the common room one evening, “I need to talk to you, (Y/N).”

You whisper, “I know.”

“Please let me talk to you,” Sirius whisper, his voice breaking, a hand partly raised as if he wants nothing more than to grab your hand and keep you there.

You draw back, “Not yet, I need a little more time.”

He nods, the hope that had been flickering in his eyes dimmed slightly. He moves to one side, letting you pass. His heart breaking that little bit more with each step you took away from him.

You were dreading class; it would be an awful class; not the subject matter but the tension between you and Sirius. It had been more than a week since you had a proper conversation, since you had properly enjoyed his company without a worry. He had tried to catch your attention on several occasions, but you just weren’t ready – Jenny had fought for him, stating the plain fact that you would have to face him sooner instead of later.

Conversation in class is attempted on his end, but all you can see as you look at him is him kissing that girl. The class passes by slowly, your need to speak to your Professor increasing. You almost shout in glee when she dismisses the class. You do not miss how quickly Sirius gathers his things and leaves.  

“Professor?”

“Yes (Y/N)? What can I help you with?”

“Why did you sit me next to Sirius?”

“What do you mean? Are you not happy with your assigned seat?”

“Yes, and no.”

Your Professor nods, “I see what’s going on here. Sirius asked me to change the seating plan a few weeks ago.”

Your mouth drops open in shock, “He asked you to do what?”

“He asked me change the seating plan – he asked to be sat next to you. He argued that it was because you would be a good influence on him, and I agreed, but you could also tell that he harbours some feelings for you.”

You stay silent at your Professor’s words. She nods, “I understand now, his feelings are returned, I see. This is interesting.”

“Thank you Professor for letting me know.” You gather your books and bag, ready to go. You needed to have a conversation with Sirius, and you needed to have it now.

“No problem, (Y/N). Hope everything works out.”

“Thank you,” You rush, “I hope so too.”

You run back to the common room; hoping to catch Sirius there. As luck would have it, upon your entering the common room, you catch sight of the messy-haired teenager, sitting on his own by the fire. He looks up as you enter, as if he knew that it would be you to enter through the portrait. He averts his eyes quickly though, and it hurts. It hurts you because you feel utterly to blame for the breakdown in relations between Sirius and yourself; he had started to open up to you, become comfortable with you and you drew away, and left him hanging. It seems you hadn’t just broken your own heart.

“Sirius?” You murmur, walking over to the boy who has had your heart for two years.

He doesn’t answer, but he doesn’t leave either. There’s a million things running around in his head – you hurt him by pulling away, by avoiding him. You never gave him a chance to explain what happened at the party; that he didn’t kiss that girl, that the minute she had kissed him, he pushed her off and started to look for you. Only to find out from your friend that you had left, that you had seen what had happened.

“Sirius, I came to apologise. I’ve been a bit of a bitch if I’m honest.”

His head whips around to you, his grey eyes now focused solely on you. “What?”

Fiddling with your fingers, you say “I came to apologise. I shouldn’t have reacted the way I did, I shouldn’t have pulled away. You have these walls and when you’re with the Marauders, they’re down and they had started to come down with me and you were beginning to open up and then everything happened. At the party, when I saw you kissing that girl, I just lost it. Sirius, you have to understand, I have had feelings for you for a long while now and seeing you kissing that girl when we had grown so close, I got jealous and I got upset. You have a reputation, Sirius, and I thought that you would only ever see me as a friend, as someone to help you with schoolwork. I didn’t even let you explain your side of the story. I spoke to Professor just now to ask why she had sat us next to each other, and she had told me you asked to be moved to be next to me, and everything clicked into place. I shouldn’t have taken it out on you the way I did though, and I am so sorry.”  

Sirius is silent for a few minutes; taking in everything that you’ve just thrown at him. You sit down next to him on the couch and watch the fire.

His voice is hoarse when he starts to speak, “I do have a reputation, but since spending time with you, I have only wanted to be with you. I didn’t kiss her. She kissed me, that’s what happened. I was on my way to find you, to speak to you when she pulled me to her and kissed me. I pulled away immediately, I didn’t want her, I wanted you, I wanted to kiss you. Once I had gotten over to you, your friend Jenny had told me you left and that you had seen what happened. When I got to your dormitory and you wouldn’t answer me, I thought I’d talk to you in class, but you ignored me. When you did talk to me, it was so formal, I thought we had moved past that. It hurt, I feel silly for confessing it, but it hurt. I’ve got feelings for you too, and to see you revert to what we were like before, I was crushed.”

“I am so sorry, Sirius.” Your voice breaks on his name, your eyes shining with unshed tears.

“I’m sorry too. I feel like we could have avoided everything if we simply spoke to each other.”

“You have nothing to be sorry for. However, that girl who kissed you without permission has a well-fashioned hex coming her way.” You frown, not happy with the idea of someone forcing themselves onto Sirius.

“Now that is something I would pay to see.”

“Can you forgive me, Sirius?”

He looks at you startled, “What?”

“I’ve been a fool, a complete fool.”

“As long as you’re my fool.”

You laugh through the tears that are now falling freely. Sirius pulls you to him, places his hands on either side of your face, his thumbs brushing away the tears. You place your hand on top of his, keeping it pressed to your cheek.

“Sirius, I’m not sure if you know this, but I’m about 99% sure I’m in love with you.”

He smiles down at you, a blinding smile. “I’m not sure if you’re aware, but I feel the same.”

“What do you say? Shall we try doing this the right way?”

“I really like the sound of that.”

“I do too.”

Sirius dips his head, and his lips are pressed to yours. You fit together seamlessly. If you could bear the stormy weather, you could bear it all.

#Sirius Black #siriusblack #sirius black x reader #sirius x reader #Sirius orion black #sirius black fanfiction #sirius black fanfic #the marauders era #marauders fanfiction #maruaders era #my masterlist #angst #fluff #sirius black fluff #My writing #harry potter fanfiction #cute

[artnerd1123]

A Familiar World

Observations ——————————————-

Journal, still wary of his roommates, realizes he’s been spending too much time hiding and not enough time seeing what they’re up to. He needs more insight to see what they’re really like. Just how does one go about that, anyways? By sitting in the living room? 

The masterpost for AFW can be found here. The chapter post for AFW can be found here.

——————————————-

back here with another chapter i can actually post! some more journ n aiden interactions. this time, we get to see the ice finally break. enjoy!!!

A walk down the hall had never felt so odd. Well, that was a lie. Journal had walked down halls and felt strange before. But today was different. Especially considering the events of yesterday morning. The apartment hadn’t exactly felt friendly, just… like temporary housing. Until now, that is. There was just a smidgen of something different in the atmosphere. He wasn’t sure what to think. The sorcerer slipped quickly inside his room, doing his best not to spill his coffee as he yanked the door shut. He stood in silence for a moment. Hesitantly, he glanced down at his cup. His second coffee of the day, it was still warm, a little cloud of steam rising from it. It was a second cup he shouldn’t have been able to hold. He hadn’t had this much coffee left two days ago. He carefully lifted the mug to his lips, taking a long sip. Yep. It tasted exactly the way it should. They really did get the brand right… he mused to himself, a little impressed. Despite his best efforts, his roommates had managed to catch a detail as small as his coffee preference. He didn’t know how what to think about that either. Feelings muddled or clear, the sorcerer still had one morning task left.   Taking a breath, Journal strode over to his desk. He set his coffee on his right, pulling up a chair. He flopped into it with an unceremonious “thunk.” His hands moved on autopilot, pulling over an inkwell with his favorite quill, and sliding a leatherbound book out of a desk drawer. He set the book before him, flipping to a blank page. A few fumbling snaps and whispered words managed to light a nearby candle. The firelight danced across smooth yellow pages. He took his quill carefully. Dipping his quill in ink, he started to write. First, he scrawled out the day’s date. Then, the time. Lastly, he marked it as “record one.” It was important to keep things organized. Especially his daily record book. He considered his next words, then let the quill scratch across the page again.

Yesterday my roommates refilled my coffee. I’ve had some more this morning. I’m still not sure what to make of it. I did not request a refill, nor am I entirely sure how my roommates figured out what coffee brand I like. I did not consciously try to hint that I was running out, either. They simply bought me more out of nowhere. It was…

Here, his brows furrowed. His quill hovered above the page. It was… what? Strange? Out of the blue? It felt that way, but neither of those phrases really fit. Aiden smiled at him gently every morning. Roo- since the time Journal learned he could speak- had been nothing but quietly pleasant. Every time he’d ventured out, they’d given him space. They never made him feel like he had to stay or speak if he didn’t want to. Sure, they looked a little disappointed when he left, but they didn’t seem… malicious. So maybe the coffee thing wasn’t as unwarranted as he thought. But he didn’t… know these people. Why were they helping him out? His gaze wandered aimlessly across his desk as he thought. The wood was still new and polished. Despite his tendency to spill ink, there weren’t any stains or scratches yet. It was just a desk. The only familiar objects on it besides the writing utensil, ink pot, and book before him were a small group of papers to his left. His eyes drifted lazily over them, taking in the familiar handwriting. They were the letters he and Nettles exchanged. He’d written to her yesterday, actually. Revaew, he wished she was here now. Nettles’ words faded in from memory as he stared at her letters. “... There’s a piece of advice you forgot about: give your roommate a chance.” He snorted softly, leaning back in his chair. Give him a “chance.” What had other people in his life done with a chance? Nothing good. Even the people who were supposed to be his family threw it back in his face. Taking a “chance” with them got him kicked out. Not that the place he was thrown out from was ever really somewhere he belonged, anyway. “... Seems like they’re trying to make you feel more at home…” He raised a brow at that. Make him feel more at home? Well… they did give him coffee. That was something the folks in his old stomping grounds didn’t do. His brows furrowed as he considered it. These two didn’t demand he keep his door open, either. Or berate him for staying in here so long. Or complain about how he only came out for coffee. Or… or even try to poke their heads in his room. They let him be. They were friendly when he did see them. They never seemed to push at him for spending time together or for conversations. … What were they getting out of this? They had to be getting something out of this, right? “... I understand your concern. However, you can’t let it trap you. You’re not gonna get anywhere if you just stay in your comfort zone...” Well, yeah, I get that, he grumbled to himself. But did he? What had he done here besides sit in his room, read, and drink coffee? … ok, maybe she had a point. Nettles did say this town was a lot better than his previous one. At least on the magic acceptance front. And- before meeting Aiden- he’d never seen anyone with such bright colored hair besides Nettles and that travelling magician. Maybe that meant something. Not to mention the talking cat. He’d never seen that before in his life. It all had to count for something, right? Being here was already a bit out of his comfort zone, but… well. Maybe he ought to try another step out. At least Aiden wouldn’t get after him for practicing magic. At least the two were more consistent about greeting him warmly than anyone else in his old town. “...You gotta get used to your roomies sometime. I’d say with their latest gesture that it’s more than enough reason to start…” He heaved a sigh, setting his head in his hands. Right again, Nettles, he thought dully. It wasn’t like he could move out. The whole room-and-board fiasco hadn’t left him with much gold. It wasn’t like he wanted to try settling anywhere else, either. Nettles hand-picked this place for him. He didn’t trust himself to pick somewhere better. He was stuck. And he hadn’t… really had any reason to doubt his roommates. Yet. “...  If this fellow turns out to be an asshole, just write me another letter. I’ll take care of em.” A small smirk flitted across Journal’s face. There was that, too. If he ever found a reason to doubt their good intentions, all he had to do was write a letter. Nettles had his back. He was sure of it. Straightening up, he grabbed his quill again. He scanned his writing for a second- just to remember what he’d said- before eyeing the unfinished sentence. 

They simply bought me more. It was… 

Hesitantly, he bent over the paper. His quill scratched out the rest of his entry, the quiet clink of the feather’s rachis against the inkpot forming his own little song.

It was a kind gesture. I’m still not sure what I think of these two. I think I need some more observations. I will attempt to obtain some today, and in the days following. Discoveries and mutual respects aren’t made by those who stay hidden in their rooms. I hope this excursion will be beneficial. ~ Journal Drapht

~~~ Journal waited until Aiden and Roo returned to their room before exiting his own. He had a few spellbooks jammed under his right arm, his record book and writing utensils crammed under the other. Years of practice let him handle the load easily. But he had to move quick. The last thing he wanted to do was get caught in the middle of his plan. Kicking the door shut, he jogged stiffly down the hall. His observation location of choice was the living room. He heard his roommates fussing around in there a lot. He figured there was as good a place as any to watch them. Plus, it’s the living room. What’s wrong about hanging around in the living room? I mean, it’s my living room too, he reassured himself, it’s not like i’m breaking and entering or anything. He winced a bit as he reached the end of the hall. Better hope these two can’t read minds… The living room was empty- just as it should be. The couch was deserted. The coffee table had some sort of box set on it- based on the stains, Journal guessed it was full of paint. Across the room was the coat rack and a pair of armchairs. Aiden’s purple cloak was draped over the back of one armchair. The indigo paint stains on its cushions gave away Roo’s presence, too. And made it clear that Roo shed. At least, in some weird goopy cat way. Ok. So. He wouldn’t sit in that chair. But the other looked clear enough. He hurried to set his books on the small table between the chairs, curling up and laying his legs over the armchair’s side. He got his record book settled on his lap carefully. He still had yesterday’s spell goals to meet, so he figured he could get a start on it out here. After all, practice makes perfect. He didn’t have time for anything less. Journal tensed a bit when he heard boots in the hall. The sorcerer hurriedly grabbed a spellbook to bury his nose in, hoping desperately he hadn’t been seen sneaking to the living room. He flipped to a random page- water spells? What? That wasn’t what I was going for at all- but there was no time to search around. A silhouette filled the entrance to the hall, and he dared not raise his gaze from the book. For a moment, the room was silent. Journal did his best not to react. Was he too tense? He felt like he was too tense. He wanted to drum his fingers on the book cover, but what if that annoyed Aiden? Playing with his hair was out of the question- he couldn’t do that with someone else in the room. Not when his parents told him he’d need to quit it or cut it every time they caught him. The moment passed, though, and so did the man in the doorway. When Journal peeked up from his book, he saw Aiden going for his box of paints. Aiden glanced over his shoulder, and Journal yanked his book back into his face. He was sure there’d be another long awkward pause. But Aiden suddenly spoke. “It’s nice to see you out here,” Aiden said hesitantly. Journal didn’t reply. He tried to focus on the spellbook. Water spells… something about using a river for power… all stuff he wasn’t ready to work with yet. He just didn’t want to talk more than he had to. He didn’t know how to react to what Aiden said, either. “... There’s some snacks in the kitchen if you want any,” Aiden offered, speaking up again. “You’re welcome to anything you find.” Now that caught Journal’s ear. “... thanks. I’ll uh. Keep it in mind,” Journal mumbled, risking a peek up at him. Aiden was just giving him the usual warm smile. Though Journal didn’t miss the confusion in the older man’s eyes. He fixed his gaze on the book again when Aiden opened his mouth.   “Is it ok if I paint out here?” Aiden asked. “... whatever… just… don’t be loud… i guess…” Journal grumbled. “Of course,” Aiden nodded. “You won’t even realize I’m here.” We’ll see about that.

As Aiden set up his workspace, Journal followed suit. Where Aiden unfolded an easel, Journal swapped his spellbook for a more relevant title. While Aiden got out a canvas and picked a starting palette, Journal marked his record book for spell studies and found a chapter on light manipulation. Aiden dipped his brush in some green paint. Journal stuck his quill in his inkwell. For a little while, the only sounds were smooth brushstrokes, jerky quill scratching, and the clearing of throats. Quiet. Just like Journal wanted. Of course, that all changed when Journal glanced up to see Aiden’s palette floating in a small cloud of blue fog. Floating! His surprised squeak made red rise to his cheeks. He shoved his face back into his book before Aiden could look at him. He waited until the shuffle of feet told him Aiden turned back around. Slowly, he peeked over the top of his book. Yeah. The paint palette was floating. Just. Suspended in the air all casual like. He stared at it for a good minute before something else caught his gaze. Apparently, the palette wasn’t the only thing held by blue mist. A mug of dirty water and a cup of paintbrushes were hovering by Aiden’s side. Brows furrowed, Journal looked Aiden up and down. He was just standing there! Painting! Like maintaining several levitation spells at once was nothing! He had to write this down. Scribbling a quick line through an empty spell record, the young sorcerer hurried to write what was going on.

Aiden Observations, Day 1: 

Offered snacks

Respects my space

Painting in the living room

Quiet, well mannered

Using three levitation spells at once while painting

Appears not to mind the exertion- as if holding a single feather aloft on a breeze

Notes: his casual use of magic suggests he’s been using it for quite awhile. It’s possible I’m roomed with an experienced sorcerer. One could argue the matching eye and hair color was a dead giveaway, but I don’t have enough experience with sorcerers to confirm the link between hair/eye color and level of magic. Investigation may be needed on the subject.

Records updated for the time being, Journal set his quill back down. He needed to get back to his studies. Only, the words on the page were suddenly much less interesting. He found his gaze drifting around the paper in front of him aimlessly. It kept wandering off the pages and towards the painter at the coffee table. No matter how many times he shook his head or squinted at his spellbook, he couldn’t focus. With a quiet huff, he plopped the spellbook onto the end table. Fine. I’ll investigate some stuff now, he sighed. When he looked up, Aiden was still painting. From what he could see of the canvas, some sort of landscape was taking shape. The colors were pretty blocky looking… though… the more he watched, he could see blades of grass taking shape under Aiden’s brush. It was honestly pretty impressive. Journal shifted nervously in his armchair, putting his feet on the ground and sitting up straight. Gotta be presentable to speak to a stranger. He drummed his fingers on the chair’s arm as he gathered his resolve. “... uh. Hey, Aiden?” Journal ventured hesitantly. AIden paused his painting, a look of surprise briefly flitting across his face. He turned to look at Journal, lowering his brush. A curious expression was in place, one brow raised. “Hm-? Yep? What’s up?” Aiden replied. “So… you’re a sorcerer...?” Journal asked. The second the words left his mouth, he smiled awkwardly to cover a wince. Could he have asked that in a more cumbersome manner??? Aiden simply smiled, a hint of laughter in his gaze. His palette and cups drifted lazily down to the coffee table. “Oh. Yeah, I am. What gave it away?” Aiden joked. “S-sorry- uh- that was probably a weird question-” Journal stammered nervously, wringing his hands. “Not at all, Journal,” Aiden reassured him, “it’s quite alright.” He paused to look the younger sorcerer up and down. Journal tried his best to sit still. Revaew, he was tense. “Was there something else you wanted to ask...?” Aiden encouraged gently. “... um… yeah, actually…” Journal forced his gaze up to Aiden’s. The man’s tone was nothing but gentle, and his gaze inviting. It was… different. But it was nice.  C’mon, Drapht. It’s just a question or two. You’ve got this. “I was sorta wondering how long you’ve been doing magic…? I- I mean, since you had three levitation spells going at once without breaking a sweat. Seems sort of tricky to me.” “Ahh, that…” Aiden nodded thoughtfully. As he spoke, he took a seat on the couch. “That took me plenty of practice for sure. But I started pretty young. My parents practically had me working with spells from the moment I could speak,” Aiden chuckled to himself, a nostalgic smile on his face. “It was better to get a good grasp on magic quick than to wait.” “Oh. Huh. That’s… that’s really neat,” Journal hummed, eyes sparkling. Ok, so, not only had he managed to score a sorcerer roommate, he managed to snag one who’d been practicing magic his whole life. Just the thought of that made Journal giddy. So giddy, in fact, he nearly missed Aiden’s return question. “How about you? Have you been doing magic for awhile?” “Uh- well- um-” Journal tried his best to keep his composure, clearing his throat. That was a… simple enough question. At least. From Aiden, he imagined it was. The town’s good with magic users, don’t worry about it, Nettles had said. Get out of your shell a bit. I’ll come around if you run into any trouble. … deep breath, Drapht, he steadied himself. You’re alright. “I… um… I started being serious about magic training when I was fourteen,” Journal replied. “It’s, uh, a bit of a passion of mine…” “Ahhh, so that’s what all those spellbooks were for. Fair enough,” Aiden nodded. Head tilted, he gestured to the stack of books next to Journal. “Is there an area you like to study?” Journal’s entire face lit up, and words tumbled out of his mouth before he could stop them. “Yeah! Er- no- i-i mean- it’s- uh- sort of all over the place,” he stuttered, face flushing. Taking a breath, he tried again. “I like to study magic in general. But. Um. I’ve got a big interest in show sorcerer magics.” “That’s an interesting one for sure,” Aiden encouraged, leaning forward. “I don’t think I’ve looked into that much… what kinda spell range does that cover?” “Oh, a huge one,” Journal replied, waving a hand. “There’s a huge variety in show sorcerers in general. Everyone’s got their own style. It really depends on what they want to do in their shows, and what sort of magic they specialize in.” He paused, realizing he’d just been rambling. He glanced warily at Aiden, expecting to see a bored or annoyed look. But he didn’t. Aiden was just… sitting there. Not only was he paying rapt attention, he actually looked interested. When he saw Journal looking at him, he inclined his head, a gentle look of “go on” in his expression. … well… if I haven’t weirded him out by now… I… might as well keep going. “... so… er… show sorcerers are sort of split into a few different categories. Like I said before, it all depends on what sorta show they’re putting on,” Journal continued. “For example, Folklorales are a kind of show sorcerer who focuses on telling or reenacting legends and stories, and they use all kinds of magic to bring them to life…”

~~~

That afternoon, Journal’s quill was once again scratching across a page in his record book. He was seated at his desk, a half eaten brownie in his free hand. As he wrote, he took another bite. The candlelight cast a soft light on his face. A look of quiet contentment had made itself at home. When his quill scratched to a stop, he looked over his entry.

My investigation of Aiden’s habits turned out differently than I expected. Instead of using the time to quietly observe and work on my studies, I ended up giving him a crash course on show sorcerers. He seemed very interested in what I had to say, and asked many good questions. He never once looked annoyed with me, though I did go on for what felt like hours. The only time he stopped me was for lunch. He’s invited me to continue speaking on show sorcerers and my studies if I wish. I may just take him up on that. After lunch, though. He offered me a brownie, which I took, but I retreated to my room to eat the rest of my lunch. He seems a nice enough man, I just need some space. Also, Aiden said his familiar may be out and about after I come back out. Maybe I’ll try and make his acquaintance. He seems like an interesting little cat. At least, from what I’ve seen. Perhaps this apartment isn’t so bad after all. ~Journal Drapht

The end of the entry got a satisfied nod from Journal. Yeah. That covered it. Shoving the remains of his brownie into his mouth, he shut the record book. The prospect of talking more magic was more of a priority than savoring his favorite sweets. Tucking the record book under his arm, he blew out the candles on his desk. When he exited his room, the walk down the hall felt different once again. It was a good kind of different. One he’d felt before, walking through the forest to see Nettles. He couldn’t wait to write her about this later. For now, though, he had roommates to talk with. The place was feeling a bit more like a home.

#afw chapter #afw #a familiar world #arty writes #my story #journal sherman drapht #aiden pingere #roo pingere #(he's mentioned) #wahoo here we goes :VVV #with this done ig i can uhhhhhh do more dumb shenans with these guys sldkjfs #gotta get som bonding time in there :0 #i shall do dat later... #this was fun to write tho LSKJDFLKDS #journ's jus nervous and doing what he can #i care him

[jamielea81]

Back to School

Chapter 1

Pairing: Professor Steve Rogers x Reader

Warnings: Some cursing

Description: After taking years off of school, you finally decide to go back and finish up that degree.

Word Count: Approximately 1,800

A/N: Welcome to my new series Back to School! This is a professor AU with a twist. This series will be on the shorter side (no more than 10 chapters) and will be updated weekly. I’ve tagged those that have asked to be tagged before, if you would like to be removed just let me know. 

*Italics are internal thoughts.

Sticking out like a sore thumb wasn’t your idea of a good first day back to school. It was like high school all over again, but instead of wearing cheap clothes from the clearance rack while the other girls in school wore designer jeans, you wore business attire. Black pencil skirt, blouse, heels, makeup done up, that was your staple most days at the office. Students hanging around campus and in your first class were dressed in pajama pants, jeans, gym shorts and t-shirts. You were vastly over dressed, but it wasn’t your fault, you had to go back to work after your second class.

You had taken a few years off of school. Who were you kidding? You took 13 years off. It was always your intention to go back to college and finish up that degree, but life got in the way.

During senior year, you had gotten sick. It started out simple enough with pains in your stomach, but no amount of pain killers and rest could cure it. Once it was apparent you weren’t getting better, you made numerous trips to the health center on campus. They in turn referred you to the regional hospital that diagnosed you with an ovarian cyst. It was already quite large and your doctor recommended surgery as soon as possible. Two weeks later, you had the surgery to remove it. Because of the recovery time and the days you missed being ill, you had no choice but to take incompletes for all your classes that semester. Your job on campus was also terminated because you were no longer enrolled in classes.  

Life back at home with your parents wasn’t a breeze. After being away for nearly four years, it was quite the adjustment living under their roof once again. They encouraged you to take classes at the nearby University which you did, but you struggled. Driving into the city was a pain and finding parking was even harder. You stuck with one of the two classes you enrolled in and managed to finish it leaving eight credits to go.

You found a job fairly quickly after a friend working in a call center gave you the heads up about an opening. It started as a fulltime position that summer, and you planned on going part time in the fall so that you could take a couple of classes to complete your degree. You ended up moving in with said friend at the end of summer. The money was rolling in as you turned out to be quite the sales woman. Deciding to take one more semester off to put some money in the bank, turned into a year off. Student loan bills started to arrive in your mailbox since you weren’t enrolled in classes. That one year turned into two. You moved out on your own. Took a new sales job with great benefits and a 401K. Two years turned into five. A job in middle management became available and you took it. Even though you were great at sales, you didn’t particular love it. Motivating others and knowing how to manage a team was more your forte. At that point you were doing quite well for yourself that school went on the back burner. Before you knew it, you were in your mid 30s worrying about a fifteen-page paper due at the end of the semester.

The campus is nice, as far as colleges go. It was also conveniently located thirty minutes from your home and office. Lush green lawns, loads of maple trees, benches and tables scattered along the wide walk ways. There’s a coffee shop in the student union, but you found a coffee cart located outside near a row of benches that faced a large water fountain in the center of the campus.

You acquired yourself a cup with two shots of vanilla. Grabbing a few capsules of cream and adding them to your cup, you planted yourself on an empty bench. You reached into your briefcase to grab out the syllabus from your first class, Economics in the Modern Age. There was no point in acquiring a backpack when you had only two classes and you had to get to work right after your second one. An hour between classes was more than enough time to look over your notes and get a cup of coffee.

“Can’t believe classes have started up again.” A deep voice in front of you said.

Looking up, the sun partially blinds your view. You put your hand up to shield the sun to get a better look at him.

“Sorry.” He says, moving about a foot to the right to block the brightness from your view.

And what a new view it was. Broad shoulders, dark blonde hair, nicely groomed beard, and those eyes. A poet could write several books about those eyes. He looked to be about your age, which was refreshing. Dressed in dark blue jeans, buttoned down checkered shirt and a brown sport coat over it. You were starring. Once you realized it, you looked down and quickly took a sip from your cup and nodded.

He stuck out his hand and you quickly set your cup down next to you on the bench. “Steve Rogers. History.”

“Ah, um, Y/N Y/L/N. Business administration.” You said, shaking his hand. His fingers fit nicely against yours. You really hoped he didn’t notice the blush.

“Do you mind?” He asked, gesturing toward the empty space beside you.

“Not at all.”

Be cool Y/L/N. Just because the hot guy wants to sit next to you, it does not mean he’s interested.

Going slow was never easy for you, which is why you were single. Your mind had a hard time differentiating between guys who were being friendly and guys who were interested. One would think with age and time, those kinds of problems would be sorted.

“Beautiful day.” You offered. Not really knowing what to say.

He hummed in response. “I’m looking forward to the cooler weather. I hate always feeling over dressed this time of year.”

You nodded. Giving him a small smile. “Same.” You said, gesturing to your long-sleeved blouse. At least you had opted to go bare legged. “It’s not so bad in the shade.”

This small talk is killing me.

Steve nodded his head. “How’s your schedule this semester?” He asked.

“Only two courses. Think I’ll manage.”

“Nice. I’ve got four, but two are twice a week.”

“Ouch. I’ve always hated those.” You replied.

He smiled. Eyes crinkly as he looked at you. “Why haven’t I seen you before?”

“I’m new here.” You said, shrugging one shoulder.

“Well, you can count me as your official welcoming party.”

You laughed. “I give you my thanks then.”

A small alarm sounded in your briefcase. Reaching in you pulled out your phone seeing you had twenty minutes until your next class. Not knowing where all the buildings were, you wanted to give yourself plenty of time to get there and hopefully find a seat in the back.

“I better get going.” You said, standing up and grabbing your bag. “It was nice to meet you Steve Rogers, History.”

He stood up as well, laughing hard, throwing his head back slightly. “You as well Y/N. I hope to see you around campus more.”

Your face flushed and you hoped he didn’t notice. “Hopefully.”

You quickly turned your back to him heading in any direction to get away from the handsome man. Not that you really wanted to run away, but you didn’t want to ruin something that hadn’t even started by saying something stupid.

After walking aimlessly for ten minutes, you consulted the campus map on your phone and started walking in the correct direction. You reached the History building with a few minutes to spare. The room wasn’t far down the hall and all rooms were numbered legibly. Finding the door was still open, you felt relieved. The room was a large lecture hall with stadium seating. Stepping inside you felt a small wave of panic as most seats were occupied with only a few open ones in the front rows and a couple single seats scattered in the middle.

Next week I am so getting here a half hour earlier.

You begrudgingly walked down the staircase, dodging careless backpacks left in your path. Sure, you wore heels daily to the office, but that was mainly at your desk or in a conference room, not down a large staircase with legs stretched out, ready to catch a victim not paying attention.

As you made your way down the steps to the mostly open first row, you couldn’t help but notice eyes on you. Instantly you felt self-conscious, thinking perhaps you had something on your face or coffee down your blouse. You took your seat and the eyes drifted away, back to their phones or conversations with the people they were sitting with.

They thought I was the teacher. That’s it, I’m changing at the office from now on.

You dug out a notebook and pen. Blue ink, not black of course. We all have our habits. You scribbled “History Beyond the Walls” on the front cover of the notebook. You picked the course randomly as you only needed a 200 level history class to complete the requirement for your degree.

The door in the back closed with a loud bang. A muttered sorry was heard and you, much like everyone else, turned around to see what caused the disturbance.

Whoa. Steve’s in this class.

You silently prayed that he’d take the seat next to you. Just for the camaraderie of adults going back to school, nothing more. Right? You continued to watch him descend the staircase hoping he’d see you. You subtly move your eyes to his left hand to check for a ring since you didn’t do so earlier. It’s naked which makes you smile. I suppose he could have a girlfriend. Or a boyfriend.  

Shaking your head slightly to get out of your own mind, you go back to the intense eye contact that pays off as Steve sees you. His face is a mix of surprise and confusion. A small smile graces his face but it quickly fades. His eyes crinkle and small lines appear on his forehead. Head tilting to the side you hear a muttered “Y/N?” You give him a slight wave as he walks completely past you, setting his bag on the desk at the front of the classroom. Now it’s your turn to be confused.

Steve turns around and looks at you briefly before scanning the rest of the room.

“I’m Professor Rogers. Welcome to History Beyond the Walls.”

Well, shit.

Tagging: @thefanficfaerie @humandasaster @violetadefebrero @estillion14 @xxloki81xx @lookwhatyoumademequeue @thefandomzoneisdangerous @tanelle83 @symonlyjen5 @niaese @lilypalmer1987 @unlcvings @linkingdolans @imissyoualittlemoreeveryday @allaboutthebooz @joannie95 @chita0027

#College AU #professor!steve rogers #Steve Rogers x reader #Steve Rogers #Marvel AU #Back to School #University #College Trope #Steve Rogers x you #Steve Rogers x Y/N #Steve x you

[twisted-broth]

Princess of Hell- Jack x reader

Reader gender: female

Warnings: greif, nightmares, death

Requested by anon on tumblr: can I get a jack x reader where the reader is Crowley’s and jack begins to like her the more time they spend together in the bunker. (Reader is there because Crowley left her instructions on where to go in case he ever died.)

A/n: so I guess when I posted this a few months ago it didn’t work so it’s here again yay

Word count: 1483

You could feel the second that he left you. Your heart twisted in pain and you screamed until your throat gave out. You told him not to go.

Why did he have to go?

You could only pray that the Winchester’s had survived, even if he couldn’t.

“If one day I don’t come back,” he told you, “you have to go here.” He slid you a piece of paper with an address on it. “This is where the Winchester’s live. They’ll take care of you.”

You were sure many of dad’s demons wouldn’t stay loyal for long after they learn about his death, so you had to move quickly. You threw together a suitcase and fished out the paper from a desk drawer.

You read over it a couple of times before willing yourself to appear there.

Due to the many layers of wardings coating the bunker walls, you appeared outside the door. You tried the doorknob of the metal door, only for it to not budge.

Sighing, you sank down next to the door and pulled out your phone.

You scrolled through the list of contacts before finding Sam’s name and giving him a call.

“Hello?” He answered after a few rings.

“Sam Winchester? My name’s Y/n. I’m Crowley’s daughter.” You explained.

“Crowley, yeah he’s mentioned you. Listen, Y/n, what happened to him, that was-”

You cut him off, “It wasn’t your fault, I’m sure. But, he told me that if he were to ever… pass, I should come to your bunker. He said I would be safe here.”

“Crowley helped us a lot. The least we can do is protect you. I think- yeah, the key is under the doormat.”

“The best hunters in the world keep the key to their bunker under the doormat?” You sighed.

“You gotta admit, it’s not an obvious choice.” He defended.

You rolled your eyes. “Thank you, Sam. I’ll be seeing you soon.”

You hung up and stood, brushing yourself off. You kneeled down next to the doormat and lifted it up, revealing the key underneath. You grabbed it and inserted it into the knob of the metal door. The knob turned and the door swung open with ease.

You entered the bunker and marveled at the size of it all. Hauling your suitcase down the stairs, you admired the vast library. You wandered aimlessly through the cement building before arriving at a hallway which appeared to house bedrooms.

Opening the door to the first one, you saw a messy bed with trash and beer bottles littering the floor. Dean’s room, you assumed.

The next had a neat bed with lore books scattered everywhere. Sam’s room, most likely.

The next was very similar, only with a messier floor and bed, but not nearly as bad as Dean’s. You figured it was probably Mary’s.

The next room looked almost untouched. The only sign that it was in use was the two lore books on the foot of the bed and a few creases in the blanket. Castiel’s room, without a doubt.

The second to last room you came across was empty, dust still coating the furniture. You entered, immediately taking it upon yourself to personalize it.

You unpacked your clothes first. You then pulled out the posters and other things you had shoved into your case and hung them up around the room. You made your way over to the bathroom which connected with the room next to yours. Searching through the cabinets, you found cleaning supplies and set to work on the untouched room.

Once you were satisfied with your work, you collapsed on the bed, alone with your thoughts. Finally able to relax, your mind drifted to your dad. You took a shaky breath, realization hitting you like a sack of bricks. Your eyes quickly filled with tears. You silently mourned, nothing left to distract you from your harsh reality.

You spent the next three days in solitude, waiting for the arrival of the legends. You managed to finally understand the layout of the complicated building after pacing the hallways so many times. You ended up sleeping most of the time, despite not needing it. It was a good way to pass the time, and you didn’t have to think when you slept.

Near the end of the third day, you were scanning the library books when the door swung open. You froze as three people entered.

“Y/n?” The first one asked when he saw you.

You nodded, slowly placing the book in your hand back onto the shelf you pulled it from.

“I’m Sam.” He said, coming down the stairs with the other two following behind him. “This is Dean.” He pointed to the person behind him. “And this is Jack.” He finished, gesturing to the last person.

“The nephilim?” You gasped.

“Unfortunately.” Dean muttered, briskly walking passed you and to the kitchen.

“He’s not in the best mood.” Sam sighed, trailing after him.

The room fell silent, you and Jack standing in front of each other in awkward silence.

“Are you like me?” He asked, finally breaking the silence between you.

“I guess so. My mother was human and my father was a demon. I’d be hunted relentlessly if I stayed on Earth. So, dad brought me down to Hell and kept me under his protection.” You shrugged, not wanting to go into too much detail.

“Quite similar to my situation.” He acknowledged. “The Winchesters brought me here to keep me safe.”

“Do you want me to… show you around?” You offered.

He nodded, signaling for you to lead him through the hallways you had come to memorize.

You gave him a quick tour, attempting to sound like you knew what you were doing.

“So, this is some sort of science room. Most of this stuff looks radioactive, I wouldn’t touch anything.”

“This is like a torture room or something. I try not to spend too much time in here, seeing as almost everything in here could kill me.”

“I have no idea what this is supposed to be.”

Once you were finished, you led him down the hallway of rooms. You pointed out who you thought each one belonged to. Finally, you showed him to the last room in the line; the one he would have.

“This room will be yours. My room is right next door, feel free to come over if you’re bored. I’m almost always bored so it’ll be appreciated.” You finished.

“Thank you. I enjoyed walking with you.” He told you.

“Oh… thanks.” You shrugged and turned to your room.

Jack quickly grabbed your arm, stopping you from leaving. “I’m sorry about your father. I didn’t know him, but Sam and Dean thought very highly of him. I… I made a mistake, but he fixed it. If not for him, Lucifer would still be here.” Jack said, consoling you.

“I… thanks, Jack. I guess I really needed that.” You sighed.

“Yeah. Well, I guess I’ll see you around.” He released your arm and brought his hand up to awkwardly rub the back of his neck.

“Yeah.” You confirmed. You turned and entered your room, a small smile resting on your face.

It was a relief to know that there was someone you could talk to in the cement prison. You had always lived in Hell where hallways seemed to go on forever, and you found a new room on every adventure. Everything felt so small, so suffocated here. You flopped onto the bed and willed yourself to sleep, attempting to avoid the whirling thoughts in your head.

—-

You awoke with a start as metal banging echoed through the room. You quickly realized what you had heard was knocks on your door. You turned on a light and walked over to the door. Once it had swung open, you saw Jack before you.

“Hey Jack. Can I help you?” You asked him.

“You know the sleep thing that the humans do?” He asked innocently.

You laughed at his phrasing, “Yeah I know it.”

“Well, I tried that and when I went to sleep I saw these pictures in my head like I was awake except I wasn’t.”

“That’s called a dream, Jack. It happens when you sleep sometimes.” You explained as you led him from the doorway to your bed.

“I didn’t like it.” He said quietly. “I watched my mother die while Lucifer stood in the corner and laughed. I tried to go to her but I couldn’t move. I just didn’t want her to be alone when she died.”

“She wasn’t alone, Jack. I was told that Mary was there. And so were you.” You gave his hand a reassuring squeeze.

“Thank you, Y/n. I don’t think I’ll be going back to sleep again for a while, though.”

“That’s alright. I don’t need to sleep either so I’ll stay with you.” You smiled.

“I would like that.” Jack said, smiling up at you.

You gave the neifilem a hug. “I think we’re gonna be good friends, Jack.”

Jack leaned into your embrace. “I think so too.”

Tag list:

@kirstentheineffectiveemo

@mistypancake10666 @thatshellfiredean @all-hail-supernatural @fand0maniac @draiela @bisexualdolphinthings @consultingpals @justasmalltownsuperwholock @lostnliterature

#supernatural #my writing #x reader #supernatural x reader #jack kline x reader #jack x reader #jack #suprnatural oneshot #alexander calvert x reader #alexander calvert #alexander x reader #jack kline

[softlunars]

please. ; h.h.j

“i love you.”

“please don’t leave me.”

soulmate au ; written on the inside of your wrist are the last words your soulmate says to you before you lose them. you don’t know who you’re supposed to love until they’re already gone.

group member: hwang hyunjin ; stray kids

genre: angst

word count: 2850

ever since you could understand what others were saying, the only thing you’ve ever heard be spoken about with hatred was the idea of soulmates. as a young child, it confused you. why don’t people want to meet who they’re destined to live forever with? why do people cry when they talk about their soulmate? shouldn’t they be happy?

when you turned 10 years old, your grandmother explained why. you recall her asking “have you read the words on your wrist?” of course you have. who hasn’t? kids all over your school were whispering about the words. what are they? what do they mean? is this what our soulmate will say to us? it was hard to ignore them. questions about the words on the inside of everyone’s wrist plagued your school.

you knew that you nodded slowly before she continued. and you knew that she continued with a weight on her shoulders. you can’t recall exactly what she said, or exactly how it ended, but you do recall how her words made you feel. helpless. you were at the hands of fate. you’d never know who you were destined for until they had already left you. how fucked up is that?

now, in your first year of university, you had never been able to shake off the feeling your grandmother had imposed on you. you had avoided any relationship that had any potential to blossom into something past platonic love. you’ve never had a boyfriend, you’ve never kissed anyone, you’ve never even held someone else’s hand aside from your mother’s. you were scared to fall in love, and who could blame you? the only person you would ever truly fall in love with would be ripped away from you, and you didn’t have a clue as to when. you wouldn’t be granted that closure; not until those goddamn words leave their mouth. not until they rip you apart more than anything else ever could.

you tightened your grip on your textbooks, walking aimlessly around the campus. you were supposed to have been in your first class by now, but you had opted to stroll around your university. it was definitely more serene and comforting than a stuffy classroom for introductory psych would’ve been.

cherry blossom petals drifted lazily around you, finding a new home on the asphalt beneath your feet. humming quietly to yourself, you sat down on a bench that was, quite conveniently, placed beneath a cherry blossom tree. it provided you a place to relax and let your mind wander, not to mention it shielded you from the unrelenting sun.

you sighed. it was lonely, but then again, so was everything else you’ve experienced thus far. everyone around you paid no mind to the words tattooed on their wrist, “falling in love” with reckless abandon. they weren’t scared, they weren’t worried that the next person they chose to fall in love with would be the one to rip their heart out. “we can’t control when it’ll happen, (y/n). why not enjoy being in love with as many people as possible while you can? we’re all gonna die with a broken heart, there’s no use living with one, too.”

how brave, you thought, to face fate head on like that.

“what’re you doing here?”

a voice snapped you out of your thoughts. looking up, you were ready to glare at the unknown person and tell them - in the nicest way possible - to fuck off. instead, you found yourself speechless when you raised your head to look at them.

he was beautiful, really. you probably would’ve mistaken him for some sort of guardian angel, had he been glowing or had wings. something to add to the cliche you found yourself in.

his hair was a chocolate brown, shaggy - was it considered a mullet? his eyes matched his hair in color, but completely contrasted in look - well, energy. while his hair was wild and untamed, his eyes were soft and reserved. in all honesty, you wouldn’t have minded looking at this mystery boy for hours more. his face gave you something better to look at aside from the concrete sidewalk.

you shook your head a little bit before looking back up at the mystery boy. “i didn’t wanna go to class.” he laughed, and once again, you found yourself admiring the boy in front of you. jeez, was his smile cute.

“i don’t blame you. i walked out of my psych class a few minutes ago.” you hummed, letting out a small chuckle. “i didn’t go at all. i would rather die by a million stab wounds than ever go to another intro to psych class again.”

you found yourself responding, smiling even, at mystery boy. he was interesting, even though he’d only spoken a few words by this point. did you want to know more about him? absolutely. did you know why? absolutely not.

“what’s your name, fellow psych class hater?” the boy spoke again, and you smiled at the ridiculous name he had just called you. why was he affecting you so much?

“my name’s (y/n) (l/n). first year, already contemplating dropping out. how ‘bout you, mystery boy?” at your question, he tilted his head and looked up, as if he was contemplating if giving you his name was a good idea. he stayed like that for a few seconds before he looked back at you.

“hwang hyunjin. also first year, also contemplating dropping out.” mystery boy - who you now knew was hyunjin - ended his introduction with a smile. you somehow already found yourself mesmerized by hyunjin. you didn’t know how, you didn’t know why, but you felt pulled to him. as if there was something more than just interest rooting you in your place, talking to hyunjin.

normally, you would’ve booked it by now, leaving the boy in the dust.

why, then, were you still sitting on the bench, looking up at hyunjin as he smiled at you? you didn’t really know, and, quite frankly, you didn’t care to find out. you just wanted this moment to continue.

unfortunately for you (and hyunjin, too - he wanted to continue talking to you), students started pouring out of the buildings surrounding you and hyunjin. loud chatter filled your ears as more people kept flowing out of the buildings, finding their way to their next class. groaning in mild annoyance, you pulled out your schedule before standing up. hyunjin moved back to make room for you, pulling out his own schedule.

“i don’t wanna go to my intro to calculus class. i barely know how to add without using my fingers. not really in the mood for making a fool out of myself.” you mumbled under your breath, pushing your hair back with a free hand. hyunjin laughed before slightly pushing you with his shoulder.

“hey, (y/n).”

you looked at the boy beside you, tilting your head as a signal for him to continue.

“do you… uh.. do you wanna meet up at that on-campus coffee shop after our last class? you’re kinda cool and kinda… cute, so i miiight wanna get to know you better.” he looked at you cheekily, giving a small grin as you processed his question. your cheeks heated up at his calling you cute, and you had to wrack your brain for a second to think of an answer.

“yeah! uh, yeah, sure. um,” you grabbed a sticky note and pen out of your bag. scribbling your number on it, you handed it to him and smiled widely. “here’s my number, since i think you’ll need it to know when my last class ends.” hyunjin took the sticky note from your hand, returning your smile. “i’ll text you when i can.”

you stepped back, turning around to walk to (rather, attempt to find) your second class. you heard hyunjin shout out a “see you later!” behind you; you threw up a peace sign and then waved behind you, letting him know you heard him.

for the first time since you’d learned about soulmates, you felt butterflies erupt in your stomach.

almost 2 years later, you had found yourself not only smitten, but in love, with hwang hyunjin - the boy you had met by chance. after that first day, you had found yourself continuing to talk to him. more dates were planned, late night calls became a constant, and with that, your feelings for the boy grew.

it seemed hyunjin felt the same way, and strongly enough to finally make the last move.

you two were on a ferris wheel at the annual carnival, cotton candy in hand. you were smiling at him, talking about something you’d done recently. he looked at you in awe as you seemed to shine with excitement and your smile forced your eyes into half moons.

before hyunjin could process what he was doing, he found himself asking you to be his. you had laughed before leaning your head on his shoulder, pecking the underside of his jaw as a silent yes.

he credited his impulse that night to how you looked in that exact moment. you were holding a small teddy bear he had won you in one hand, cotton candy in the other. the lights reflecting off your skin formed in a way akin to constellations in the sky, and your eyes themselves looked as if they held stars.

when he asked you, the stars in your eyes exploded to become supernovas.

those supernovas came to stay trapped within your eyes, also finding a home in your heart. they only seemed to multiply the more time you spent with hyunjin. with every after-class coffee date, every late night call (“i just wanna listen to your voice”), and everything in between, you had grown to love him. more than you thought was humanly possible.

but who could blame you? he looked at you like you put the sun in the sky, and he treated you like a princess - no, a queen. everything he did for and with you overflowed with his love for you, and you saw it grow everyday. he loved you just as much as you loved him - if not more. you couldn’t have found anyone else better fit for you.

hell, you had even forgotten the fear imprinted on your heart about soulmates. the words tattooed on your wrist held no significance to you while you were with hyunjin. he took every worry, every fear you had about love and soulmates, and threw them to the wayside. your life had come together. it became complete and serene as soon as hyunjin stumbled into it.

alas, all good things must come to an end.

did you expect it? no, never in your wildest dreams did you think it’d turn out like this. everything was perfect, you and hyunjin were almost finished with university, and you were planning for him to move into your apartment immediately after graduation, creating a new chapter for the both of you. together.

the call came around 4:30pm. you were waiting for hyunjin to walk through your apartment door; he had planned a date for your 3 year anniversary that was the next day. you didn’t dress up all fancy - hyunjin always loved you, but he felt that love more rawly when you glowed all your own - and you were sat on the couch. he’d texted you 30 minutes earlier, saying he should be there in 15. but 4:15 had come and past, and hyunjin wasn’t knocking on your door.

when your cell phone started vibrating on the table beside you, you felt your heart drop. you didn’t know why in that moment - your gut just told you this call was going to break your heart.

and your gut was right.

it was a doctor. he confirmed who you were - “are you (y/n) (l/n)? the emergency contact of hwang hyunjin?” - and delivered the news that sent a bullet straight through your heart.

“hyunjin was involved in a car crash. the person crashed into him head on, and was found to be under the influence. mr. hwang is in critical condition; we advise you to come quickly.”

you had never moved so fast in your life. you thanked the doctor as you hung up and ran out of your apartment and to your car. your hands were shaking as you started it up and drove to the hospital.

so many thoughts found their way into your head. critical condition? is hyunjin going to make it? he has to, right? we had a date, we were gonna celebrate three years. he can’t - he won’t - leave now, right?

you found yourself in the hospital lobby faster than you’d anticipated. everything seemed to move in a blur afterwards. the receptionist giving you his room number, the nurses and doctors approaching you to tell you of hyunjin’s condition, and finally stepping into the stark white room itself.

a choked sob escaped your throat before you could stop it. there was your boyfriend, the love of your life, laying in a shitty hospital bed with so many machines attached to him it made your head whirl. his eyes were closed, and his face was scratched up. cuts were all over the skin you could see. your heart tore itself into more pieces the longer you looked at hyunjin. he still looked beautiful in a hospital bed, staring death in the face.

time moved in slow motion as you walked nearer the bed. tears clouded your vision as you grabbed onto hyunjin’s hand, intertwining your fingers together. something in you knew it would be the last time, but god, you didn’t want to believe it.

“jinnie, you idiot…” you mumbled the words, caressing the top of his hand with your thumb. tears fell onto your intertwined hands, but you didn’t have the strength to wipe them away.

“we were supposed to go on our anniversary date, stupid. god, please wake up. please, jinnie. i… i can’t lose you.”

you felt your hand get squeezed softly, and you opened your eyes to look at your boyfriend. he still took your breath away, even as his time ticked away.

his eyes were trained on you, and he had a small smile on his face. your heart wrenched at that. he was still smiling, like always, even in this moment.

“don’t cry, angel.” hyunjin’s words were raspy, strained, as if he was using all his strength to utter those three words. you let out a whimper at his words, more tears falling from your eyes to stain the sheets.

“you c-can’t leave me, jinnie… please…” your heart was breaking with the beeps of the heart monitor - why were they slowing down?

“hyunjin, please. you can’t leave… not yet…” you found yourself crouching at the bedside, resting your head on the hand that held hyunjin’s. every shallow breath from your boyfriend threw a dagger into your already shattering heart. you couldn’t believe this moment had come already. it was too soon. too goddamn soon.

“angel.” you looked up at hyunjin as the pet name left his mouth. the pet name that might as well have become your actual name as your relationship with hyunjin grew.

this was the last time you’d hear him call you that.

“jinnie…? please don’t leave me...” his nickname came out choked and quiet, as did the rest of your sentence. your voice betrayed your heartbreak - even as he was losing his breath, he could still read you like the back of his hand. it warmed your heart while stomping on it simultaneously.

his thumb swiped across your hand once, twice as he tried to gather enough breath to speak. and when he did, you wished he hadn’t spoken at all.

“i love you.”

the words that left his mouth. the words tattooed on your wrist. the final thing he’d ever say to you.

your soulmate’s last words.

“no, no, no no NO!” your heart became nonexistent as soon as the words left his mouth. the heart monitor let out one final beep before it completely flatlined, giving your ears the sound you wished you would never hear.

hyunjin was gone. your soulmate left you, just as everyone else’s had before you. you had fallen victim, just like everyone else. you knew their pain, and god, you wish you didn’t.

with tears running down your face, dripping on the bed sheets below, you turned hyunjin’s wrist around. you were desperate. desperate to see if the words matched what you last said to him. his nickname, the one you called him since your first date.

the sentence stared you right in the face, burning itself into your memory, making sure nothing was left of your heart.

jinnie? please don’t leave me.

he left.

#stray kids imagines #stray kids scenarios #stray kids #hwang hyunjin #hyunjin imagines #hyunjin scenarios #skz imagines #skz scenarios #skz reactions #stray kids reactions #first full length imagine!!! #i hope y'all enjoy it! #i edited this to hell and back to make sure it flowed okay #but i hope it's okay #<3

[birdiebirdd]

Back by the Sea

Pairing: Namjoon x Reader

Word Count: 4.6k

Genre: Fluff

Warnings: brief mention of alcohol/drunkards 

You peddled aimlessly, allowing your bike to drift anywhere your body wanted it to go. And naturally, it steered you towards your favorite place on Earth.

The beach.

It wasn’t too far from your home. After all, a ten-minute bike ride was all it took. You originally discovered it when you were still a teen, and ever since then, it became a place you were always yearning to return. Anytime you needed to relax, clear your head, or simply admire the ocean, this was the place you came back to.

Maybe it was the salty breeze that ran through your hair, or the soothing sound of the crashing waves that drew you back almost every day. But no matter what, you always found yourself back by the sea.

Tears started forming in your eyes, leaving your eyesight blurry. You managed to get off the bike, making sure it was securely locked between the rack. Finally kicking off your sandals, you allowed your toes to disappear beneath the grains of sand. The sun wasn’t too high in the sky, but you could still feel its lingering warmth.

The sea breeze brushed across your face as you inhaled its fresh scent. You plopped down with closed eyes, hands gently grazing the sand. Without giving a care about the world, you allowed the tears to fall.

Nothing too bad in particular had happened to you. Unfortunately though, you were stuck in a tight situation. The amount of responsibilities on your shoulders was starting to weigh you down. You had to juggle between two part time jobs, along with university. On top of that, you lived alone, meaning you had to pay all sorts of bills.

However, you knew that you weren’t the only one dealing with a situation like this. Yes, it was hard, but you constantly reminded yourself that this was something you could overcome in the future. But for now, all you could do was cry the stress away.

“No, no, no! Come back. Don’t go!” A deep voice whined.

Quickly wiping your tears, you looked around until you spotted a man crawling through the sand. His face was down, as if he were looking for something.

“Aha! Gotcha!” He exclaimed, startling you. You squinted, trying to get a better look at what he was holding up. Your heart melted, noticing it was a small crab, waving it’s pincers around. The man stood up, delicately carrying the tiny crustacean.

The man was tall. Much taller than most of the people you had known. And he appeared to be somewhat built as well. His hair was dyed a faded blonde that paired well with his outfit. A white t-shirt and some blue shorts.

You tried to get a glimpse of his face, but couldn’t thanks to the camera he was using. Although, something told you this man would be quite handsome.

“Thanks little buddy,” he cooed, lowering himself and the crab back to the sand. The camera was still in his hand as he continued clicking pictures of the crab that scurried away.

A smile crept on your face, wondering how someone reflecting so much masculinity could act so adorable.

Shaking your head, you turned your eyes towards the sea once again. A bright blue color painted the entire horizon, and slivers of golden light shone through from between the clouds.

You definitely felt a lot better than you had before. All negative thoughts had left your mind, letting you feel stable once again. And how could you not? The view was simply breathtaking. You peacefully sighed at the serenity before you.

“Stunning, isn’t it?”

You snapped out of your trance, only to be greeted by Mr. Crab man.

“The view I mean,” he smiled, his own gaze settled upon the horizon.

“Yeah, it is,” you nodded in return. At last, you had a chance to see his face. As you had thought previously, he was incredibly handsome. You slowly trailed your eyes over his features, letting them sink inside your head.

The first thing that caught your attention was the mischievous dimple on his cheek. Your heart fluttered at how soft it made him look. His nose was pretty cute too, but on the flatter side. You did your best, fighting back the urge to boop it. Glancing over to his eyes, you noticed how they were probably the sharpest part of his face. They were dark and mysterious. But at the same time filled with curiosity and wisdom.

He suddenly turned his head to talk, but noticed you checking him out. He raised an eyebrow at you as you shifted your eyes down, feeling a rush of blood around your cheeks.

The man beside you softly chuckled, finding you rather cute. “It’s alright. You can look at me, I know I’m quite stunning as well,” he winked playfully.

You rolled your eyes, but cracked a shy smile.

Extending his hand forward he said, “My name’s Kim Namjoon.”

You gladly shook his hand, “I’m Y/l/n Y/n.”

“If you don’t mind me asking, what was a beautiful lady like yourself doing here crying?”

You looked at him in confusion, “How did-”

“I was catching crabs when I noticed you sitting here by yourself. I was about to approach you, but the crab pinched me and I dropped it,” he explained with a pout.

You giggled, picturing the situation. His eyes met yours, and you remembered that he was probably waiting for an answer.

Taking a deep breath, you started talking.

“I was crying earlier because I was stressed out.”

Namjoon tilted his head to the side, wanting you to go on. So you continued.

“I had a long day at work, and it got worse when I came home realizing how many bills I had piling up.”

He nodded, forming an “o” with his mouth, and then the two of you were engulfed in silence. But it wasn’t awkward in any way. He went back to looking at the sea, and so did you.

“I don’t know if this will help,” he suddenly spoke, “but you have to remember to keep going. Pushing through your struggles will eventually lead you to a better state. You might be feeling tired now, but the more you work towards a better future, the faster you’ll achieve it.” Namjoon’s voice came out hushed.

You looked at him, surprised, “Thanks. I really needed to hear that,” you fiddled with your fingers, genuinely appreciating his words of advice. It felt nice to be able to talk to someone so freely after a while. Even if it happened to be a dangerously attractive stranger.

Namjoon turned his body to face you. His eyes softened and he gave you a warm smile, “I’m glad I could help. By the way, would you like to see something cool?”

You gave him a small nod before Namjoon reached behind him. You were puzzled as he revealed a small, light blue box. The word treasure was beautifully etched onto the lid. He gently pushed it towards you.

“Open it,” he whispered. You hesitated, curious to what would be inside, but eventually removed the lid. An airy gasp left your lips as you looked at the contents of the box in astonishment. There were dozens of small seashells artistically littered upon a pile of polaroids.

Your hand hovered above the shells, but you quickly pulled away. Unsure if he was okay with you touching his delicate treasures, you looked up at him in question. However, he simply smiled at you while picking up a small white conch, and placing it in your palm. You began tracing your finger above its ridges ever so slightly, afraid of breaking it.

While you were busy admiring the shell in your hand, Namjoon gathered the polaroids and scattered them in front of the two of you.

“Y/n,” he tapped your shoulder, shifting your attention towards the pictures. You gently put the conch shell back in the box, and picked up one of the pictures.

“N-namjoon, these are amazing,” you breathed, holding up another one, carefully observing how exquisitely the shot had been taken. It didn’t take long to understand how great of a photographer the man beside you was. You stared in awe at each of the pictures, all of them looking so professional.

“I’ve been collecting the shells and the polaroids for a few years now. Everytime I go to a beach, I can’t help but want to capture its beauty and bring a part of it along with me,” Namjoon passionately held onto his camera, smiling with pride.

Your heart melted at the sight of his charming dimples that revealed themselves once again. In the short time you spent with him, you learned how truly intriguing he was. It would be a lie to say that you weren’t developing a small crush on him. In fact, it seemed almost impossible not to fall for this man.

Little did you know, you weren’t the only one growing feelings for a stranger. Namjoon was mesmerized by you. Not only were you beautiful, but you reflected a love of nature, similar to his. He was beginning to adore the way you lost yourself at the ocean’s tranquility. The way your eyes would light up watching the universe be in harmony with itself.

He let his eyes wander over you, trying to study the smaller details on your face. His hand subconsciously lifted the camera, and before he knew it, he clicked a picture of you.

The image printed out from the camera and he smiled, looking at it. Everything about this picture was so perfect. You were focused on the shells in your palm, eyes displaying nothing but excitement. The sun’s light was shining down on your skin, giving it a golden glow, as your hair lightly danced in the breeze.

Before you could notice, Namjoon stuffed the polaroid into his pocket. He was tempted to take more pictures of you, but quickly brushed that thought off.

By this time, you had finished admiring the “treasure” inside the box. You neatly placed everything back, and handed the box back to Namjoon.

“Thanks for sharing it with me. It was really cool to see.”

He nodded at you, still smiling brightly.

“So Namjoon,” you enjoyed the way his name easily rolled off your tongue, “are you new here? I haven’t seen you around before.” You secretly began praying he wasn’t just some tourist passing by.

“I got accepted into the local university, but I didn’t get a chance to join until last week. I finally moved here two days ago. My place isn’t too far.” You ears perked up at the news. He was attending the same university as you! Namjoon didn’t fail to notice the sudden happiness on your face.

“Looks like I’ll be seeing you around more often!” You chirped, but instantly regretted your display of excitement. Cringing at your own statement, you let out an awkward cough, “I mean, that’s cool, I guess.”

Namjoon chuckled at that, “I’m really looking forward to seeing you too Y/n.” Your eyes widened in surprise, but you quickly laughed it off. He would probably forget about you as soon as his classes started.

A sudden buzzing sound came from Namjoon’s pocket. He took out his phone, glimpsing at the screen and gave you a sheepish smile.

“Sorry Y/n, but my roommate just called and I gotta go. It was really nice meeting you,” he gathered his stuff and stood up in a hurry. “I’ll see you around,” he popped a final smile and jogged off towards the parking lot.

You looked down at your hands, smiling sadly. During the short time you spent together, you grew comfortable in Namjoon’s presence, but now that he was gone, you were left alone once again. You hadn’t even asked for his number.

Letting out a long sigh, you got up and smoothed out your white sundress. You took one last glance towards the crashing waves, and walked over towards your bike.

School was back in session now, and a little over two weeks had passed since your encounter with Namjoon. You definitely regretted not asking for his number. Although it seemed dramatic, life felt pretty dull after he had to leave.

Namjoon was in a similar state as you. These two weeks were so tough on him. He had searched everywhere for you on campus, but couldn’t find you. He regretted leaving early that day. Maybe he could’ve even gotten your number. But for now, all he had was that picture of you. The picture that gave him hope of finding you.

It was just another day, or technically night at this point, where you wandered off to sit by the sea. You weren't stressed out today, just a little lonely. Ever since returning to school, you didn't get a chance to make too many friends. You were pretty sure the only social interaction you were having was at the two cafes you worked at.

“Y/n!” You heard an oddly familiar voice call out. Turning your head to the side, you saw Namjoon walk towards you. Saying that you were merely happy to see the man once again would be an understatement. You had been dying to talk to him. And now he was finally here, standing right in front of you.

“Hi,” Your eyes darted to his hair, noticing how he had dyed it black. Although you preferred the blonde look, this color really complemented his tan skin.

“Y/n! I’ve looked everywhere for you in these past two weeks. Do you have any idea how lonely I was?” You were at a loss of words. Why would Namjoon be looking for you?

“But what are you doing out here so late?” His brows furrowed in concern. You were taken aback by the sudden authority in his voice. It almost made you feel like you were a child being scolded for sneaking out at night.

“My shift was over and I was just about to head home, but I decided to stop by,” you mumbled.

“Your shift ends this late?” His eyes grew wide in surprise. Your tired expression was the only answer he needed. “Y/n, it isn’t safe for you to be out here alone at this time. Do you have any idea how many creeps might be roaming around right now?”

You shrugged, not really bothered by what he was saying. It had been months since you were working the night shift, and nothing dangerous ever really happened.

The man beside you sighed loudly, “Do you wanna get some ice cream?” You giggled at how random the question was. Even if he was annoyed at how lightly you were taking the situation, he couldn’t help but smile hearing you laugh.

“How ‘bout some milkshakes instead? I know a place around the corner.” Namjoon hummed in agreement, following behind as you led the way.

You found it silly at how casual you were being with each other. It was only the second time you met him, but he was acting as if he had known you for years. Not that it was a problem in any way. You liked this feeling, being able to click with someone so instantly.

Despite the time, the cafe appeared to be crowded with people. You shuffled through your bag and pulled out your credit card.

“There’re way too many people in there so you go get the drinks, and I’ll wait outside,” you said handing him your card.

“No Y/n, it’s my treat,” he pushed the card back.

“But-”

“I’m not taking no for an answer, now what should I get for you,” he sounded stubborn, letting you know he wasn’t one to argue with. One look into his stern eyes left you completely tongue-tied.

“Can you get me a chocolate milkshake please,” your voice came out smaller than you wanted.

“You sure you don’t wanna come inside?”

You shook your head and gestured him to go on. As you watched him leave, an empty bench caught your eye and you made your way towards it. Surely, Namjoon would have no trouble finding you.

You sat down on the wooden bench but grew quite uncomfortable. A sick feeling began rising inside your stomach. It almost felt like you were being watched.

Out of nowhere you spotted a young man, probably in his early twenties, shuffle towards you. Without hesitation, you picked yourself off the bench, planning to head back towards the cafe.

“Where do you think you’re going sweetheart?”

You felt a strong grip on your wrist, and your body was turned to face the man. He reeked of alcohol, and had probably been drinking all night.

“So pretty and all alone,” the man slurred, his free hand inches away from your face.

“Don’t touch me,” you growled through your teeth and swung your bag over your shoulder, hitting the man’s head. His hand let go of yours, as he tried gathering whatever remaining balance he had left.

His eyes were bloodshot red and filled with anger. Even on wobbly feet, he lunged towards you, but before he could do anything, you kicked him in the crotch. Instantly crumpling to the ground, the man let out a pained cry.

All you could do was roll your eyes at the hopeless drunk in front of you. A sense of pride washed over you after hearing a string of curse words and pathetic sobs leave his mouth.

In fact, you were so caught up in the moment that you missed Namjoon sprint up from behind you. Snapping back to reality, you saw an angry Namjoon continuously punching the man on the ground. Any lingering intoxication the man had was knocked out by now, along with a few teeth.

“Namjoon stop,” you tugged from behind, pulling him off of the man. Namjoon’s body was shaking with rage. You gently pat his back, trying to calm him down.

“You better not lay your hands on another woman ever again,” the man on the ground aggressively nodded hearing Namjoon’s words. “Now get out of here, scumbag,” Namjoon spat, as the man scrambled back to where he came from.

“Are you okay? Did he hurt you anywhere?” Namjoon turned his attention to you, his voice drastically softening.

“I’m fine,” You reassured, “did you get the milkshakes?” You quickly changed the topic, not wanting to discuss anything.

“Oh, yea, here you go,” Namjoon passed you your beverage and took your free hand in his while walking you back. He obviously got the hint that you were probably still shaken up from the whole experience and decided not to push it.

You, on the other hand couldn’t stop thinking about how Namjoon had his hand wrapped around yours. You had to admit, although it felt pretty childish, you were thoroughly enjoying this.

Namjoon brought you back to where you had first met him. He sat down, and patted the sand beside him, signaling you to sit down too.

Even after taking sips of your cold milkshake, your entire body felt like it was on fire. You were pretty sure you were a blushing mess by now, but quickly thanked the night sky, knowing Namjoon wouldn’t be able to see your face in the dark.

“Look Y/n,” He said before sipping on his drink, “I know you don’t want to talk about what just happened, but this is exactly what I was trying to warn you about earlier.”

You looked down, ashamed he had to witness all that. Even though you didn’t worry about drunk weirdos too much before, you started to understand what Namjoon was warning you of.

“Now I’m not saying you can’t protect yourself. I saw how you fought back, and I have to say I was very impressed. The way you kicked him, man that was epic!” Namjoon beamed at you, eyes filled with awe. You tucked your hair behind your ear, returning a shy smile.

“However, it was only one creep today. There could be a whole gang tomorrow,” he explained, “I just don’t want you walking home alone this late.”

“I don't have a choice though. The only way I could get out of this is by quitting my job,” you sighed.

“No, don’t quit your job. I was thinking that maybe you’d let me walk you home instead. That way I could keep you safe… and maybe get to know you a bit,” he slowly mumbled, but it was loud enough for you to hear. “I mean only if you want to,” he quickly added, scratching the back of his head.

You gave him a twisted smile, amused at how flustered he appeared. This was your first time seeing Namjoon’s shy side, and it was absolutely adorable.

“That’s not a bad idea,” you agreed. Namjoon had made a good point. It was only one drunk man that you faced today. You could run into more next time. It wouldn’t hurt to have someone walk with you. Especially when that someone was Namjoon.

“Wait really?” His eyes brightened, excitement written all over him. You nodded enthusiastically. “Then, I’ll pick you up starting from tomorrow. Can you text me the address and everything?”

“Yeah, what’s your number?” You handed him your phone, and patiently waited for him to type it in. You tried your hardest in order to maintain a nonchalant attitude, but on the inside you were screaming. Finally! You finally got his number. What more could you ask for?

It had been around 3 months, and Namjoon made it part of his daily routine to pick you up after work and walk you home. In this time, you two had grown really close. He was your best friend, and that made the both of you inseparable.

Whether it was studying, eating lunch, or going for a walk, the two of you were always together. However, this daily interaction also began to fuel your feelings for each other. What started off as a small crush, now turned into something more. But neither one of you were ready to acknowledge that.

Today seemed like a great day to relax. You were up to date with all of your assignments and projects, and on top of that, you had a day off from both of the cafes you worked at. You smiled to yourself, wondering how to spend the day, and if Namjoon would be willing to join you.

Just then, you heard your phone buzz on the table. You picked it up, giggling when seeing a text from Namjoon.

Joonie<3: Hey Y/n

You: hi joonie!

Joonie<3: wanna go to the beach?

You: sure

Joonie<3: gimme 10 mins, I‘ll pick you up

You: no that’s alright

You: I’ll take my bike

Joonie<3: you sure?

You: yep

Joonie<3: alright, then I’ll see you in 10?

You: sounds good

You grabbed your bag off the chair, smiling like an idiot. Dozens of butterflies fluttered in your stomach as you hopped onto your bike. Your headphones were in, as you peddled to the beat.

The beach began getting closer, and you frowned at the lack of people. The weather was great today, and you thought it was quite a shame that people would rather spend their time locked away inside, rather than exploring the great outdoors.

You shook the thought off, and fixed your bike into the rack. Looking around, you spotted a few abandoned umbrellas and stray slippers but Namjoon was nowhere in sight. You pulled out your phone, deciding to text him.

You: hey, I’m here

You: ya know, our usual place

Joonie<3: okay, I’m on my way

Joonie<3: I had to finish something, but it’s complete now

Joonie<3: I’ll be there in a minute

You: alrighty

Knowing Namjoon would join you soon, you ended up sitting down. Your hands subconsciously played with the sand, as you closed your eyes, taking a deep breath of the salty air.

The ocean looked magnificent today. You rocked at the rhythm of the crashing waves, watching the water quickly reach the sand, and fall back into the great blue at the same speed. A feeling of warmth formed inside your heart. No matter where you traveled to, this place would always be home.

“Hi Y/n,” you heard the shuffling of sand and feet as Namjoon sat down beside you. His toes were buried beneath the warm sand, as he moved closer next to you.

“Isn’t it fascinating Joon, how everything in nature knows what it’s supposed to do,” your voice was barely above a whisper, “It never receives any directions, but always ends up finding its own path.”

Namjoon let your words sink in, grinning at your observation. “You’re right y/n. And what’s even greater is that once it finds its path, it never stops.”

You lightly hummed, agreeing to what he said. “It doesn’t stop. No matter what comes in its way, it keeps going. Take the trees for example, they never stop providing fresh air for us, even if we humans are the ones cutting them down.”

Namjoon turned to face you, eyes filled with admiration. He hadn’t come across anyone that would think this deep about the planet and its ways. Your curiosity and love for the world around you made him realize how similar the two of you actually were.

You felt Namjoon’s eyes on you, and you raised an eyebrow at him, asking if something was wrong. He didn’t respond, but moved closer. Your eyes locked with his, and you felt a chill run down your spine. Namjoon felt it too, and figured there wouldn’t be a better moment than this one to tell you how he felt.

“Y/n, I- I have something for you,” his face was red as he reached for his backpack. With trembling hands he pulled out a picture frame crafted with shells.

Your heart was pounding furiously against your chest while you took a closer look at the picture. You smiled wider when you realized that it was actually a collage of you and the beach.

The frame was beautiful and you were truly thankful for the gift. But as you ran your finger along a conch in the center, your smile seemed to falter.

“Namjoon, are these shells and pictures from your treasure box?” Your voice came out shaky, feeling guilty that he used something precious to him, to make a gift for you.

“Yea. Did you not like it?” He lowered the frame as his face fell.

‘Of course she didn’t like it Namjoon. Who confesses to someone by gifting them a frame? Ugh, you’re such an idiot.’ He panicked.

“No! I love it! It’s perfect Joonie. It’s just that these shells and pictures are important to you, and-”

He suddenly placed the frame onto your lap, and pulled you by the hands, crashing his lips onto yours. His lips were just like you had imagined, soft and plump. You felt him smile as you kissed him back with the same passion, not wanting to stop. He slowly pulled back, as the two of you ran out of air.

Your hands were still in his as he smiled brightly, revealing his signature dimples, “Y/n, I really like you. A lot. So will you please accept my gift and my feelings without worrying about the shells.”

You giggled and gave him a nod.

“Finally,” he rolled his eyes playfully, “do you know how hard it was to make that.” He complained, “I broke two frames, a bunch of shells and burnt myself with a glue gun.”

“Of course you did,” you teased, poking his dimples, “I call you the God of Destruction for a reason.”

--- 

#bts #bangtan #bangtanarmynet #btsguild #bangtan boys #bangtansonyeondan #kpop #bts fanfic #bts namjoon #kim namjoon #rm fluff #bts rm #kim namjoon x reader #namjoon fanfic #namjoon x reader #namjoon fluff #bts fluff #writing #bts fanfiction

[not-close-to-straight]

Ice Skates and Bright Lights (WinterIron)

Welcome to the first of the Christmas Commissions! 

This is for @multishippinglife who wanted romantic ice skating!Winteriron! 

CHRISTMAS COMMISSION MASTERLIST

Enjoy :)

*********************

“Tony?” Bucky opened the door to the penthouse slowly, still a little weirded out by Tony's invitation to ‘walk right into the penthouse anytime, you’ve slept here enough you might as well have a key’ that had been announced rather loudly a few weeks before.

They’d only been dating a few months after all, and walking into Tony's personal suite seemed… forward. All the great sex other things aside, walking in whenever he wanted still seemed forward.

“Tony?” He asked again, and pushed the door open further. “Sugar are you here? JARVIS said you were home so I came to see you.”

There was no answer, the room was empty and Bucky tried to swallow back a rush of disappointment.

Tony had bolted out of bed two mornings previous, interrupting what had a been a fairly spectacular kiss that was definitely leading to better things to shout something about being late for a meeting in British Columbia. He had blown Bucky a half hearted kiss and had quite literally ran out the door clad only in boxers, yelling for JARVIS to make sure the helicopter was ready to go.

Bucky hadn’t heard from him since then, and when his watch had chimed with an alert from JARVIS that Tony was back at the Tower, Bucky had abandoned the run with Sam and Steve and took off back home.

But Tony was nowhere to be found, and Bucky's heart slid to somewhere right around his toes.

There was only one downside to dating Tony Stark, and that was the fact that he was simply never home. Whether it was missions or dealing with SHIELD or accompanying Pepper on business meetings— He felt lucky if he got to see Tony two nights in a row, and there had been very few mornings where he had woken up and Tony was still in bed.

Oh well. Bucky turned to leave, trying to school his features into something less dejected before he had to—

“If I may, Sergeant Barnes.” JARVIS, from the ceiling, and Bucky looked up. “There is a present on the bed for you, Sir left it just before he had to leave again.”

“Thank you, JARVIS.” He said politely, if not awkwardly, having never really adjusted to having an all seeing AI peeking in on his day to say life.

But he smiled when he saw the plainly wrapped package sitting on what had been designated his pillow, a note from Tony pinned on top.

Bucky baby,

So sorry I had to run out on you the other morning, also sorry about forgetting to call. Trust me, I would have much rather lain in bed with you and kissed it up some more.

Anyway, to make up for it, I have a surprise planned for tonight. Please wear what’s in the box and some boots, we’re going for a little bit of a walk. It’s supposed to be a full moon tonight so we should be able to see the all the Christmas lights perfectly!

“A little bit of a walk.” Bucky said out loud, and opened the box curiously, pulling out a long scarf in beautiful shade of crystal blue. “Tony wants to go on a walk?”

Tony usually wasn’t too keen on outdoor activities, but it was Christmas time, and Bucky was learning that his favorite genius turned into a holiday fiend on December 1st which meant all bets for normal behavior were off.

Classic rock was turned off in favor of Christmas music. Tasteful potted plants swapped out for miles and miles and miles of garlands and accompanying strands of multi colored lights. Healthy green shakes given up for double chocolate peppermint everything and severely spiked eggnog. Fitted suits exchanged for terrible Christmas sweaters.

It was a festive time of year and Tony was a festive type of person.

So sure, if he wanted a moonlit walk through the newly fallen snow to stare up at the Christmas lights, that's exactly what he was going to get.

Bucky smiled to himself and wound the scarf around his neck, tucked the note in a back pocket and headed back down to his own room to track down a pair of hiking boots.

He didn’t know what Tony had planned, but he was ready to enjoy it.

*******************

“Sweetheart, you said a walk.” Bucky stared out the window at the rapidly shrinking ground below them. “Why are we way too many hundreds of feet in the air? What part of taking a walk needs to involve a helicopter?”  

“Well, you know.” Tony waited until the craft had turned to head North before he unclipped his lap belt and moved onto Bucky’s lap. “We walked to the helicopter, didn’t we? We walked across the helipad. Walked up the stairs to get to the helipad. That counts, right?”

“Yeah, alright.” Bucky tipped Tony’s chin up and kissed him lightly, beyond pleased when the brunette pursed his lips for another one. “We walked to the helicopter. You’re absolutely right, what was I thinking?”

“Who the hell knows.” Tony smirked and tugged at Bucky’s scarf. “Thank you for wearing this for me. It looks great on you.”

“I’d wear just about whatever you want, Tony.” Bucky tried to get comfortable on the narrow seat, pulling Tony tighter against him. “But while we’re on the subject of presents, have you figured out what you want for Christmas?”

“Haven’t put any thought into it at all.” Tony shrugged off the question and wound his arms around Bucky’s waist, pressing close against the chill in the helicopter. “Doesn’t matter anyway, I know you’ll get me something good.”

Bucky smiled and dropped a kiss onto all that thick hair, but was cursing a blue streak inside, frustrated that he had no idea how to handle this Christmas.

Almost four months they’d been dating now, and even though they had kissed for the first time and slept together for the first time the very same night, every other interaction between them careful and slow, taking their time with every “official” sort of step along the way.

It almost seemed backwards to do it this way— first the mind blowing sex, then the ‘we should spend time together’ talk. Bucky had a toothbrush in Tony's bathroom before they’d even gone on an actual date. There had been a hilarious if not slightly awkward moment where someone had asked Tony out and he had answered with an annoyed, “You know damn well I have a boyfriend!” when in fact, no one knew he had a boyfriend because Bucky didn’t even know if they were calling each other boyfriends yet.

At Thanksgiving, Bucky had finally sat Tony down and asked very seriously if they were going into this holiday season as an official couple, because it was a big step for them and he wanted to know ahead of time so he wouldn’t inadvertently hurt Tony’s feelings by not doing certain things, or over step his boundaries by doing other sort of things.

Tony had smooshed a kiss onto his mouth, declared, “As if I would miss a chance to have a boyfriend during Christmas! This is the most romantic time of the year!”, then spun himself around and turned on his holiday play list, apparently satisfied with his decision and entirely sure the conversation was now over.

Bucky had laughed, had promised to be a very attentive Christmas boyfriend, and set out to try and find Tony the perfect present for their very first Christmas together.

The problem being of course, that there was nothing in the world that made a great present for a billionaire genius who could quite literally invent himself whatever he wanted before he even had his morning coffee. To say Bucky was stumped was putting it lightly, and Tony had been less than helpful when it came to dropping hints.

“You didn’t wear mittens.” Tony said suddenly and Bucky pulled himself from his thoughts to look down at their linked hands with a smile.

“I’m a grown man, Tony, why would I wear mittens?”  

“Grown men wear mittens!” Tony defended loudly and Bucky started laughing. “Don’t laugh! People wear mittens all the time! It’s a real thing!”

“Do you wear mittens, Tony?” Bucky asked mock seriously, squeezing at Tony’s fingers lightly. “Hm?”

“I’ll have you know I own eighteen pairs of mittens, each one more fuzzy than the last.” Tony stuck his nose in the air, and Bucky kissed it promptly, murmuring. “Oh my god, you are adorable.”

“I’m not going to argue with you about that, but for right now--” Tony tapped the window excitedly. “We’re here! Come on! Come on let’s go!”

The moment the helicopter set down and the blades stopped spinning, Tony was out the door like a shot, trying his hardest to run through the snow, Bucky trying his hardest not to laugh as Tony hopped through the drifts, arms flailing as he tried not to face plant.

“Sweet thing.” Bucky tromped through the snow easily and slid his arm around Tony’s waist. “Do you want me to carry you?”

“If you carry me, I will break up with you.” Tony threatened. “Just because you’re super serum jacked and I’m normal sized--” Bucky snorted and Tony scowled. “--doesn’t mean I can’t walk through the snow.”

“Aw don’t break up with me sugar.” Bucky swooped down to plant a kiss on his cheek. “I won’t carry you, I’ll just keep my arm right here in case you need it.”

“I don’t need it.” Tony fussed, but Bucky kept it there anyway, helping Tony up and over a few different logs, ducking under branches as they headed through the woods with no discernible goal in mind.  

Tony chatted aimlessly as they walked, talking about the meeting in British Columbia, how pretty the city was, the little shop that he'd found Bucky's scarf and of course, about how upset Pepper had been that he’d been late.

“Although.” He said thoughtfully. “She was probably more upset over the fact that I was wearing suit pants and a suit jacket and no shirt because I’d completely forgotten to grab one on my way out.”

“You didn’t buy a shirt when you got to B.C.?”

“Nah, I told them it was a European look.”

“Oh my god, Tony.”

Almost fifteen minutes later, and abruptly enough that Bucky stumbled over him, Tony turned and headed up a small hill, struggling through the snow until Bucky finally rolled his eyes and picked him up, ignoring Tony’s squawk of outrage in favor of just marching them up to the top and over the hill.

“See how easy that was?” Bucky laughed at Tony’s petulant expression. “What’s the point of dating a super soldier if you can’t be carried around every once in a-- once in a---” Bucky’s voice trailed off when he finally looked around and saw where they were. “Tony, what is this? Where are we?”

Tony wrestled his phone out of his pocket and hit a few buttons and what had previously a non-descript clearing was transformed.

Lights were draped over all the branches, covering the frozen pond with a soft glow. Christmas music played from speakers tucked in weather proof boxes and set at the base of several tree trunks. A plush, padded bench had been set up on one side of the pond, Tony’s favorite hot-cocoa thermos propped on top of it.

And there, right next to the ice, two pair of skates.

“Tony?” Bucky asked again. “What is this?”

“Don’t be mad.” Tony whispered, pulling his hat down further over his ears in an attempt to hide his blush. “But um-- you remember our talk at Thanksgiving? And you asked if we were officially a couple for Christmas?”

“...yes?”

“And I said that I definitely wanted a boyfriend for Christmas because it’s a romantic time of year?”

“Yes.”

“And we decided to get each other presents?”

“Tony, yes, but what--”

“I didn’t know what to get you for Christmas!” Tony blurted. “I have no idea! Zero ideas! Pepper thinks I’m the worst gift giver in the world, but I’ve come along way since the Stuffed Rabbit Incident and I was excited to buy you something but then I realized that there was nothing to buy you!”

He threw up his hands in frustration. “Bucky, you are so romantic. Like ridiculously romantic and I just know you have the best present ever picked out for me and everything I bought for you seems cheap or less-than-heartfelt so I have a pile of crap sitting in the closet at the lab because I kept buying you things and NONE OF THEM WORKED! I hate all of them!”

“You didn’t have to stress about it, Tony, presents don’t matter to me.” Bucky shushed him quickly, pulling his glove off to brush his knuckles over Tony’s cheek. “Honestly. I don’t care about that.”

“Well that works out.” Tony huffed. “Because you’re not getting shit. This is your Christmas present right here.” he made a general motion towards the pond. “Pepper gave me some speech about how quality time is important and I’m always busy so--”

“So you found a little frozen pond in the middle of the woods and decorated it so we could ice skating together?” Bucky finished. “Right?”

“Is it stupid?” Tony’s face fell. “It’s stupid, right? Do you hate it?”

“Actually,” Bucky looked around the beautiful pond, up at the lights and further up to see the stars, then back down at Tony, who was biting his lip anxiously. “Tony, I love this. This is a perfect gift.”

“You’re lying….?” Tony asked hesitantly, and Bucky shook his head adamantly. “You really like it?”

“Are you kidding me?” Bucky grabbed Tony’s hand and started pulling him towards the bench at the bottom of the hill. “I get you to myself for a whole evening? No phone calls, no team, no JARVIS?”

“Well… yeah?”

“Then it’s perfect.” Bucky started unlacing his boots. “I love to skate, Tony, used to do it all the time, reminds me of winters back home before the war. This will be so fun.”

“You’re sure?” Tony asked again. “Because I know one of the perks of dating a billionaire is supposed to be expensive gifts and--”

Bucky shut him up with a long kiss, cupping his face and holding him close. “No, sweet thing, the perk of dating a billionaire is getting to be the one kissing the billionaire. Has nothing to do with the money. Never has, never will.”

“So you can skate, then?” Tony turned bright pink at Bucky’s sweet words, and changed the subject to cover his blush. “Because I haven’t been skating since I hit puberty, and that was a long time ago.”

“Don’t worry, baby.” Bucky winked and grabbed the skates. “I won’t let you fall.”

****************

Jingle Bells was playing from the speakers over the makeshift rink when they took the first steps onto the ice, and even though Bucky remembered how to skate almost immediately, Tony was far less sure of himself.

“Tony!” Bucky went speeding by, whipping around Tony in quick circles and making the genius flail wildly so he wouldn’t fall. “This was a wonderful idea!”

“I feel like you either lied to me about not having skated since before the war, or that the serum gives you perfect balance.” Tony complained, and Bucky slowed down to skate figure eights around him with a pleased grin. “What was I thinking doing something outside, we should have just gone and watched the skaters at Rockefeller Center!”

“Aw baby, no.” Bucky grabbed him and whirled them around. “This is much more fun then watching!”

“Don’t let me go!” Tony shrieked, arms windmilling as he nearly fell and Bucky snatched his hands quickly, holding him steady as he switched to skating backwards, pulling Tony around the pond.

“This is the worst!” Tony lamented. “I’m gliding on water with knives on my feet! Why do people do this? How is this romantic?”

“It’s very romantic and I’m enjoying it very much.” Bucky turned them in a slow circle as Tony held on for dear life. “But tell me baby, why didn’t you practice skating? Were you just planning on just drinking cocoa and ogling me while I skated by myself, because that isn't romantic at all.”

“That was my plan if you wore sparkly skating tights.” Tony grumbled. “But you didn’t wear those did you? You wore sensible pants so now I have to skate with you to keep this a real date, I guess.”

“Well I wore the scarf, didn’t I?” Bucky started to skate a little faster and Tony’s eyes flew open wide in renewed panic. “You could have included sparkly tights and I would’a worn those too.”

“Really?” Tony glanced up from watching his feet long enough to send Bucky a quick smile. “Let’s revisit that idea sometime when I’m not scared of impaling myself on a toe pick.”

“I’ll hold you to it.” Bucky winked, and when Tony stumbled, he caught him with a grin. “Aw does me winking make your knees weak, sugar?”

“I plead the fifth.” Tony finally relaxed enough to loosen his death grip on Bucky’s hands. “But yeah, yeah it does. You’d think after all the sex that whole weak kneed thing would go away, but it sure hasn’t gone anywhere yet.”

“I’m real glad to hear that.” Bucky drew Tony close for a sweet kiss, and took him around the pond again. “I hope I always make your knees weak, Tony.”

********************

“This is a change from your usual dates.” He commented later, when they’d stopped for hot chocolate, sharing the thermos between them and trading kisses as they sat on the plush bench.

“Is change bad?” Tony was starting to shiver just a little bit, so Bucky tucked him into his side and held him closer. “I mean, it’s not exactly pizza in Rome but I thought it was alright.”

“Yeah, pizza in Rome, what was that our third date?” Bucky blew out an exasperated breath. “You do know when I said Roman pizza was the best, I meant the little shop down on the corner of sixth, not like… Rome, Italy.”

“In retrospect, I realize that.” Tony admitted. “But your face when you got on the jet was pretty funny. And it was even funnier when I got you over the ocean and you started panicking. And it was really really good pizza.”

“It was really really good pizza.” He budged a kiss to Tony’s cold ear. “But this is a nice change. Just us hanging out. No one’s busy, no one is around to interrupt us, no one had to spend a bunch of money. This is just as fun as the fancier stuff we do.”

“Hmm.” Tony tugged his gloves off so they could hold hands, and Bucky did the same, neither of them able to help their smile when their palms fit together perfectly. “You want to do more of this sort of thing more often?”

“I don’t care what we do as long as I’m with you, Tony.” He said honestly. “But things like this are fun.”

“Cause you’re an old fashioned boy from the forties who doesn’t need all the fancy tech of this new and scary century?” Tony made his eyes comically wide and Bucky’s laugh was soft when he leaned in and whispered--

“It’s more about having you all to myself, Tony. Don’t want to share you with anyone or anything. Dates like this mean you’re thinking about me and no one else, yeah?”

“I’m pretty sure I only ever think about you.” Tony admitted, soft and a little unsure and Bucky caught him in a long kiss, dragging at his bottom lip and gathering that ridiculously perfect butt into his hands to pull Tony into his lap.

“I’m pretty sure I only ever think about you, too.” Bucky murmured when Tony broke the kiss and Tony nodded, pushing their foreheads together while he tried to catch his breath.

“I used to watch the pairs ice dancing on TV, you know for the Olympics or whatever?” He started after a minute, and Bucky hummed something in acknowledgment but didn’t answer, still floating in a haze from their kiss. 

“They were always so beautiful skating together? But then they would do those lifts and I would hate it because it looked so dangerous! The guy would just chuck the girl in the air and someone could die! They could lose a head or their fingers. For fucks sake, one of the moves is called a death spiral. A death spiral. Who puts on skates and says ‘hey let’s try a death spiral’?”

“Tony.” Bucky’s laugh vibrated through him and into Tony’s body. “I’m sure they practice on land first. Besides, no one attempts that sorta thing without knowing their partner can handle it.”

“All I’m saying is, they would only call it a death spiral if it’s caused deaths before.” Tony maintained. “No thank you.”

“You fly around in a metal suit all day.” Bucky pointed out. “But being lifted above someone’s head bothers you?”

“I built my suit.” Tony countered. “I know that barring any sort of horrible accident or unforeseen circumstance, I’m fine in it. But a lift? What if my partner sneezes and I chop their head off with my skate?”

You tellin’ me you never did any lifts growing up, Tony?” Bucky asked curiously. “I see your point and all, but what’s that movie that Clint makes us watch, Dirty Dancing? You never did that sorta thing? I thought everyone did that sorta thing.”  

“Did you and Steve do that?”

“I was th’ one to teach Stevie how to dance.” Bucky said easily. “Course we practiced lifts, you know how we danced back then.”

“I need video proof.” Tony blurted. “Video proof of you teaching Steve to do a lift because that’s the best thing I’ve ever heard in my life.”

“Why don’t I give you a hands on lesson instead.” Mind made up, Bucky shifted Tony off his lap and then pulled him from the bench and back out onto the ice. “C’mere and I’ll lift you.”

“The hell you will.” Tony folded his arms stubbornly. “We are not doing that.”

“Come on.” He cajoled, tilting his head and smiling coaxingly. “Don’t you trust me? I won’t drop you, come on.”

“Bucky--”

“Come find out what all the fuss is about.” Bucky backed up a little and held out his arms. “Skate as fast as you can here, and I’ll show you why it’s so fun.”

“Bucky--”

“Hey, this is my Christmas present, isn’t it?” Blue eyes sparked in a challenge. “You really gonna tell me no?”

“That’s not fair!” Tony wailed. “That’s absolutely playing dirty.”

“Nah it ain’t. I’ll show you how we play dirty later.” Bucky winked and Tony muttered a curse and looked away as red painted his cheeks. “Just try, Tony. I won’t let you fall.”

“Little late for that.” Tony rubbed at the back of his neck self consciously. “Already went and fell, Buck.”

The words were said lightly, but there was nothing light about them, and even though they were too casual to mean anything, they meant just about everything and Bucky swallowed hard as his heart started pounding, his mouth suddenly dry over all the things that hadn’t been said yet between them.

“Come here.” he finally managed. “Trust me, yeah?”

Tony still looked a little skeptical, but he skated a few circles cautiously, steadying himself on the ice before dashing as fast as he could-- which wasn’t very fast at all-- towards Bucky with his hands outstretched, a half panicked-- “You better catch me, soldier!”-- when he got closer.

Bucky caught him alright, caught him and lifted him right up above his head and Tony flung his arms out wide and nearly screamed in surprise and excitement as Bucky spun them around and around.

It had started snowing at some point while they were skating, and even though Bucky hadn’t noticed it then, he certainly noticed it now as fluffy flakes started landing in Tony’s hair and clinging to his eyelashes, his cheeks bright red with cold and scrunched up with his smile.

{{ ART!}}   {{ART!}}

He hadn’t stopped laughing yet, too thrilled with being this high in the air, and in the background music was jingling while the rest of the forest was still and quiet and it was just them alone beneath the stars and the lights and it was--

It was perfect.

“Christ, I love you.” Bucky breathed and time seemed to go very still as Tony’s grin slipped and his eyes widened.

“Wh-What did you say?”

Bucky brought him back down to the ice carefully, keeping his left arm tight around Tony’s waist to hold him steady, his other hand reaching up to brush snowflakes away, to trace the sparkle of ice crystals along Tonys jaw, pale eyes nearly glowing as he leaned in to touch first their noses, and then their mouths together in a sweet kiss.

“Tony, I love you.”

“Since when?” Tony squeaked. “Since--since now?”

“I don’t really know.” Bucky shook his head but his smile was a little incredulous. “I don’t know when I fell in love with you Tony but-- but--” he shook his head again, because the words just weren’t working right. “It just seemed like the right time to tell you, when you’re all pretty and soft like this, smilin’ and happy…”

“Oh.” Tony chewed at his lip, trying not to smile so big, and utterly failing. “Well that’s good, because I love you too.”

“Yeah?” Bucky kissed him again and Tony threw his arms around Bucky’s neck to keep him close, drawing it out until they were both panting, their breath puffing in the air between them.

“Nope, come back.” Tony said when Bucky went to pull away and Bucky huffed a laugh and came back for another kiss, skating backwards in a slow line and bringing Tony with him so they could kiss and skate and sing along to the music, whispering shared, “I love you’s” until Tony’s teeth were starting to chatter and even Bucky’s arm was starting to ache from the cold.

“You gonna let me carry you back to the helicopter?” Bucky asked as they ditched their skates and finished off the cocoa.

“I honestly might freeze if you don’t.” Tony admitted. “And you’re my boyfriend so it’s definitely your job to keep me warm.”

“Oh sure thing, sweet thing.” Bucky leaned in for one more kiss, sipping the chocolate from Tony’s lips and sighing when cold fingers slipped under his coat collar to press against his neck. “I got all sorts of ways planned to keep you warm.”

“Oh by the way?” Tony snuggled close when Bucky picked him up. “If you bought me anything, take it back. This is the perfect Christmas present.”

“Being carried?”

“No.” Tony shook his head. “Saying I love you.”

Bucky just smiled, and hurried them home.

******************************

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#ncts fics #christmas #winteriron #christmas commissions #tony stark #bucky barnes #holidays #ice skating #romantic #fluff

[stareiiez]

Flower Petals and Blood

Chapter Five

Word count: 4k words

Pairings: Lavernius Tucker/ Reader, Leonard Church/ Reader

Genre: Angst, Slowburn, Hanahaki Disease AU, Hints at Love Triangle, Angst, Fluff, Eventual smut, Sexual tension, Smut, 18+ & 21 content.

Author’s note: Okay so finally? FINALLY, finally I uploaded and updated this series and I’m so happy from the positivity that you guys have had to the previous chapters and the twist I’m having on the characters/ plot. Any way, this centers more around the Tucker/ Reader dynamic and away from the disease for now. Enjoy!

The morning after you had puked your guts up of velvet like sharp petals on the roof of Blue base you were holed up in your room. Your throat was still sore and scratchy from the abuse it constantly goes through. One large sleep shirt that donned the Blue Team logo on the front. Notebooks were scattered upon the other half of your bed, various scribbled notes in black ink stained white paper and your fingers.  The streams of late morning sunlight were painted against your features as you turned to stare at the dying small pile of flower petals on your dresser. The golden light seemed to make the sort of tense and tired aura your bedroom had, to seem a little brighter.  You hadn't even bothered to remove them from your bedroom, the action seemed too tiring for your body. With a tired yawn, you had rubbed the last remaining traces of sleep from your eyes. You weren't planning on doing much today. Taking more notes about your current ongoing disease and looking up some sort of solution was what kept you up late at night.  Hell, maybe you would even let Doc run more physical tests on your body like you were some lab experiment in Red Base. Maybe Sarge wouldn't mind you wandering aimlessly into their base unannounced and armed, naturally.  Sarge probably also wouldn't mind you coughing up light blue and darker blue flower petals on his floor. It was bad enough he didn't 'allow blue bastards' in his base, but seeing even more shades of blue in his base? The gruff male would be practically shoving his shotgun down your throat and threatening to shove his boot up your ass for trying to infect his men with some sort of 'blue team disease.'

You didn't need to have any more stress to risk another upchuck that nearly kills you in front of someone new every day. It was bad enough Caboose, Doc and now Tucker knew about your condition. Church was probably the next one to know if you weren't too careful for trying to choke down another wave of crashing emotions that would rip your heart apart. God, Church, he could manifest anywhere he would want to. Knowing your own luck, maybe he already came into your room to talk to you while you were asleep and saw your evidence for this cursed illness. That random thought you had, sent your eyes to widen slightly and your body to launch up out of bed at a too quick pace for your sleepy brain to handle. You crossed the small distance from your bed to scoop up the still soft flower petals and dumped them in a drawer of your dresser. Cursing yourself for even stressing this early in the morning, you let out a puff of air, your right hand rose to run its fingers through your slight bed head tangled locks. You winced from the harsh few tugs before wincing once again when a sharp knock on your door jolted your senses.

It was too early to even talk to anyone, your head hasn't even caught up with your body's actions yet at this point. All you wanted to do was sleep and stay curled up in bed and hide from the world while coughing your poor lungs out.  

"What?" You said through slightly gritted teeth, brows raising in slight agitation from whoever was standing outside your door.

"Are you dead? Caboose has been panicking about if you were drowning in flowers yet." Tucker's voice floated through from the other side of your door.

Oh, how to be graced so early in the day by one of the people you didn't want to be around while dealing with this sickness. With a small scoff, you had turned to address your closed door, chest tightening slightly from the thought of the aqua soldier even bothering to worry about you in the first place. Hell, you were probably crazy to think differently, Tucker wasn't some heartless asshole he was just some horny, self-centered asshole.  Only he was slightly better than Church for only caring about himself.

"Are you sure you're here because of Caboose, or because you were worried yourself." You spoke, walking closer to your doorway and opening the steel door enough to get a good look at the male in front of you.

Tucker was dressed casually for once, in sweats and a standard black shirt. His long dark brown and very light brown locks were tied up in a neat ponytail, a few dreads were starting to fall from the updo and casually frame his angled face. His gaze landed on you before it drifted over your head to rest on your bed. His eyebrow cocking at the sight of your late night notes covering your sheets.

"What? No. Maybe, move we need to talk." Tucker said before he gently pushed you out of the way and then closed the door behind him once the door of your bedroom closed.

The male had made himself surprisingly comfy by seating himself on your bed and reaching over to pick up the notes you had scribbled on. A small scoff escaped his lips when he read 'Nature can suck my balls' underlined multiplied times. Clearly, you were frustrated up until that point. His fingers traced over your chicken scratch like the wording, and couldn't help an annoyingly like smirk to grace his features.

"Alright what exactly are you doing here, because usually, you would have come up with some stupid pick up line for sex by now," You turned to cast Tucker a look, one eyebrow rose in suspicion?

A moment ticked by, and your breath held before Tucker lifted his head to meet your eyes. Eyes locked on each other.

"What the hell are you doing coughing up flowers like you're some goddamn freak?!" Tucker blurted out. Ah, there it is, you were waiting for that time were one by one the members of either Red or Blue would come knocking on your door demanding answers if they ever saw your disease.

"It's a magic trick, surprise." You deadpanned, your voice lacking emotion.

"Very funny." Tucker rolled his eyes before he tilted his head, a dark brow raising in a hint of his impatience. "Now tell me the truth." There was a pregnant pause between you two, both pair of eyes locked on one another. One slightly pleading for answers, the other way too stubborn that was staring daggers at chocolate brown orbs.

Finally a sharp from your lips broke the silence, this was going on for far too long anyway. You couldn't be that stubborn anyway, you were practically dying day by day and petal by fucking petal. Besides, Tucker had watched you puke right after Church left. You couldn't dance around the truth anymore as much as you want to.

"Okay, okay." You sighed, you walked closer to Tucker. His eyes trained on your form while you sat down next to him. You situated yourself on the bed so you were facing the male, who in turn followed your lead to sit face to face.

Taking one deep breath you went into detail about your complicated relationship with Church. Much to your own embarrassment, and with flushed cheeks you told Tucker about the first time you actually slept with Church.

The one time you were found halfway tipsy with the oldest bottle of Jack Daniels gripped in your right hand, and your body laid lazily stretched out on the ratty couch cushions in the living room. Your cheeks had a small, drunken blush staining your features, and your eyes were glassy as they were locked upon Church's. You were a sight, to say the least when Church happened to walk in to find Tucker and help him start up the tank once again. Out of all the people out of Blue Team, except Caboose, you seemed to drink the least, but given any rare occasion, you would out drink anyone and happen to get drunker than anyone at the same time.

"Take a picture you little cunt, it will last a lot longer." You scoffed, a harsh slur to your words made you sound funny in your ears. Your brows knitted, you sounded like your voice was muffled and you had cotton balls in your ears.

Church rolled his eyes, his dark blue eyes had wandered over your stretched form. Orbs drinking in your lithe frame until they raked back up to meet your unsteady gaze. You knew he was staring, and with a few or more shots of liquid courage that you had in your system, you eagerly enjoyed being stared at.

"Where is everybody? Why aren't you being watched and why the fuck are you drinking so early in the day?" Church bit out. He walked over to you and easily snatched the more than half empty bottle of whiskey.

The liquid in the bottle sloshing recklessly back and forth. At his harsh action, a drunken whine left your alcohol-soaked lips. You didn't hesitate to reach out in failing attempts to grab the bottle back from a glaring Church, who was starting to raise the whiskey bottle over his head. Whiskey bottle out of reach, and with your drunk ass being too lazy and uncoordinated to stand up from the couch and reach for it yourself, you laid back down against the somewhat comfortable cushions.

"I had enough of you screaming your lungs about how you're going to kill everyone on Blue Team and yourself just because Caboose crashed something. Besides its what? Eleven pm right now? Lay off, old man." You scoffed your top lip curling into a snarl.

"How long have you been awake?"  Church asked, his eyes watching your unsteady gaze that was wavering back and forth from him to what he was holding.

"Ten minutes." You said you started to get up this time just as Church scoffed in disgust. Clearly, there was no time limit when it came to drinking. 'It's always five o'clock somewhere.' was your overused excused when the Blue leader would catch you drinking.  "Now give me." You drunkenly demanded.

"Interesting." Church droned on before a sigh slipped past his lips, your demand has his eyebrows drawing together in slight irritation. "Come get it then."  The male stated, and to his own amusement, he started to back away from your position on the couch.  

Church watched your unsteady movements, his feet were scooting back step by small step as he watched a sort of sparkling determination to drink some more. It was frustrating to your mind on why the male was backing more and more away from your clumsy footsteps. You swayed like a zombie that wasn't set on eating brains but just consuming the last bit of whiskey without a single regret. After a slow three minutes of a constant pattern of your sock covered feet sliding against the rough floor in sluggish movements, and Church backing up. The male had pressed his back against the wall, finally trapped. Your alcohol-soaked breath fanned against his face, and his nose scrunched slightly from the smell of it. Your drunk brain couldn't register how close you two were, noses just barely brushing up against each other and one hand was planted against his chest. Your weight settled on your tiptoes as you reached up to grab the bottle for the last time. Your other hand was grasping his scrawny, yet toned, arm.

Church stared at your flushed face thanks to intoxication, your hands were so warm against his cool skin and your chest was barely coming in contact with his own.

"Give me the drink already, you cunt." You growled out, weight swaying back and forth on your toes, that were cramping from holding your form up.

"Make me." Church challenged, his head dipping down slightly to stare you in the glazed over eyes. He was short, but he wasn't that short to still have a height advantage over you.

Call it stupidity and maybe you can blame the several bottles of alcohol you consumed but the tone in his voice for how he challenged you in the form of a tease, pushed your libido into action. The hand that was on his chest pushed Church more up against the wall. Dropping down onto your feet, you had leaned more into his chest and captured his lips in a swift kiss.  To say Church wasn't expecting you to kiss him was an understatement, he wanted this. Whether he could admit it or not, but the male always wanted to kiss you; to touch you in ways that would make any girl blush. Dear God, maybe he hung around Tucker way too much to know how exactly to touch someone. He was too uptight to even pay attention, but even he couldn't stop his hands from moving on their own and settle wherever they pleased.

Wrapped up in the drunk kiss, his arm that held the bottle lowered and encircled your waist tightly. His other hand had moved to rest against your cheek, a shaky breath escaped his lips when your teeth had decided to bite down on his bottom lip and pull gently at the chapped flesh.  His lungs were starting to burn slightly from the lack of oxygen but the feeling of your tongue invading his mouth.

It was starting to heat up fast in the room, and all Church wanted to do was make it even hotter with you. Pulling away from the kiss with bated breath, his lips were swollen and bitten to bits by your teeth that was tugging relentlessly at his bottom lip. You were both panting slightly out of breath nearly stealing oxygen from each other.  From then you couldn't remember much but you had dragged Church into your room when you both heard the voices of Tucker and Caboose approaching the base. Drunken kisses mixed with heated quick bites were peppered along both of you, and slight bruises had decorated your hips when you woke up in your bed the next morning. Your throat was still sore from moaning and swallowing Church's dick whole when you went down on him. You woke naked in your twisted sheets that stunk heavily of sex and semen that had left more than one stain on your standard satin blue colored sheets. Church was nowhere to be seen and the only reminder you had of that day was his dark blue boxers that had still spots of precum that were tossed across your room. From that day on it turned into more quiet sex in your bedroom, or you dragging church by the chest plate to one of the caves and fuck him for as long as his libido could last.

Biting your lip, your gaze dropped slightly as your cheeks flushed in a slight embarrassing hue. For something so small as just screwing, that was caused by your drunken endeavors, had spiraled into something so complicated that it made your heart hurt a little more and flowers bloom in your lungs for that reason.  

"You are royally fucked." Tucker spoke up once you managed to finally stop spilling your only secret about fucking his 'leader' of Blue Team.

A small snort escaped your mouth before you lifted your embarrassed gaze to lock eyes with Tucker, who was biting his bottom lip in an attempt to snicker or at least try to teasingly grin just to lighten the mood.

"Well I might not be entirely, I stayed up all night trying to break this stupid illness." You stated, reaching over behind his back to grab at the opened book that held pages of notes and different stupid solutions that could or couldn't work on you.

Handing the book to the male beside you, you had laid back on your bed. Bare feet dangling over the edge of your bed. One hand nestled against the back of your head to support it and the others was rubbing at your tingling chest. The too familiar feeling of coughing or at least feeling your chest flutter with an itchy feeling that would probably cause a new round of spasming coughs if you thought about it for too long. Since yesterday you haven't coughed since, and you would be damned sure if you had to cough again so early in the morning. The flipping of pages and the soft chuckles that escaped Tucker's mouth was a sure sign that he was reading through everything you had written down hastily. It'd be a huge shock if he could even read what the hell you wrote, maybe he was laughing at your illegible crackhead ideas.

"Lung transplant and move to Mexico. That's a new one." Tucker said, his shoulders lightly shaking in chuckles that were being held back in order to save your crumbling dignity.

"Well, it sounds stupid when you say it out loud, Lavernius." You muttered bitterly, eyebrows knitting in how absurd you probably sounded for backing up that idea.

"Found any ones that have seemed to be a sure-fire way?" Tucker finally closed your book once his eyes scanned over the last thing you wrote down and underlined multiple times in bold, black lines.

Distraction."A distraction. Maybe if I can find something to take my mind off Church I can officially force my heart to accept something new and allow those damn flowers to wilt and die." Moving your other hand behind your head, your shoulders rose in a soft shrug.

"Think anyone would be willing to let you screw them for a few days just to get over this asshole?" Tucker asked, his head turning to gaze down at you as you had laughed in response.

"No, it's not all going to be sexual you dingus. I just need a friend or someone to take my time and steer me clear from trying to fall even more for that ghost of a human being."

Tucker closed the book and rested it on the bed before he had plopped down next to you on his side. His eyes roamed over your face for a moment before he spoke up. Well if no one does volunteer, and you're out of options. I volunteer."

"I'm not going to fuck you." You deadpanned. You tilted your head to look at him straight on and you'd be damned if you didn't notice how close you two were laying next to each other.

"I didn't say that I'm just saying if you maybe wanted to you know where my room is." The male wiggled his eyebrows rather seductively or so he hoped. To you his little eyebrow wiggle made him look way too funny but it did put a slow spreading smile on your face.

"I'll keep that in mind." You replied with a roll of your eyes. You rose one hand without thinking and brought it to his nose to flick the end in a taunt. He had grabbed your hand once you had flicked his nose. Fingers had nearly wrapped around your own and the flush of warmth had pressed upon your open palm.

Your breath hitched in your throat unconsciously and your gaze automatically drew to his deep chocolate brown orbs.  Neither of you spoke, but the shallow breathing that left your lungs was speaking volumes out loud.  You didn't know who moved closer to each other but nose you could feel his breath on your face and the tip of his own nose was brushing against yours. For someone who seemed to be so terrible on making a move, or being a 'ladies man,' Tucker had gained a blush down his neck and over his entire face. He turned several shades into a rich red color from just his emotions alone. Tucker swallowed noisily like even he could sense the shifting atmosphere in your room. From what turned into just a casual air had shifted heavily into something so dense that left the air around you warmer and thick.

The fingers around your hand had squeezed gently and tugged it so it was placed around the back of his neck. Tucker moved slowly like he was scared that you'd shove him away and kick him out for even as just laying a hand on your body.  Your other hand planted on his chest and you had moved until your chest was nearly brushing against the back of your hand. Tucker's other hand move to lay on your waist, fingers pressing against your side with the right amount of pressure that made you shiver in bliss.  Here's your distraction, take it and forget about that asshole already. You nearly scolded yourself, and you'd be damned if you weren't about to let this chance go. You couldn't, you were so vulnerable and Tucker was leaning in already. With another shaky breath that slipped past your parted mouth, the male had captured your lips with his own chapped ones.

Tucker kissed like he practiced for this, or like he had too much experience. You doubted the latter, every time you decided to retaliate in his inappropriate advances it left him stuttering and biting down on his tongue way too quickly. Overall the pressure of his lips had left you sighing contently into his mouth, your body relaxed even more as his arms now moved to wrap around your waist and pull you more into his solid chest. The smell of Tucker overwhelmed your senses and the hints of men body wash had your mind growing numb with pleasure. Both arms were now wrapped around his neck and your fingers were playing with the hairs on the back of his neck; leaving him to shiver under your touch. It brought a smirk to the corner of your mouth without even breaking the kiss. His lips had easily parted your own and allowed his smooth tongue to invade every corner of your mouth.

A small moan that you didn't mean to let out had escaped from the intrusion. The pressure of the kiss deepened and your lungs were burning from the lack of oxygen, but feeling lightheaded and kissing your teammate feverishly was something you didn't want to end. Finally, you pulled away, but not without sinking your teeth into his bottom lip and pulling at it lightly. A quiet groan had left Tucker, and the sound of panting filled the room. Your eyes locked once again for another moment before you started to lean in for another kiss.

A sharp knock had split you both apart and nearly had Tucker scrambling off your small bed. Your heart hammered in your chest from the sudden scare had you snap out of your short-lived libido of maybe screwing Tucker in your bedroom.

Your name was muffled behind the other side of the steel door by someone who was the last person you ever wanted to talk to. Texas. Running a hand through your hair, you spared a glance at Tucker who was trying to get his bearings. His lips were swollen from kisses and his eyes were glazed and dark, way darker than normal. The look he had nearly caused you to flock to his side again, but you couldn't with the black armored ex-freelancer standing outside your door. Taking in a quick breath you opened your door rather roughly and were face to face with a golden visor.

"May I help you?" You said, voice holding a bit of irritation. Your eyebrows twitched when Tex didn't respond but instead looked over your shoulder to see Tucker standing in the background. You hoped he managed to extinguish that heated look already, you didn't need Texas to ask you why the male looked like that.

"We need to talk," Texas spoke her gaze still glued to Tucker before her helmet tilted to now turn to face you once more. Your veins froze to icicles under your skin, and your eyes narrowed when she continued. "Alone."

#red vs blue #rvb #rvb church #rvb tucker #rvb tex #rvb fanfic #hanahaki disease au #lavernius tucker #leonard church #allison texas #agent texas #rvb tucker x reader #rvb female reader #rvb reader insert #rvb x reader #red vs blue x reader #lavernius tucker x reader #church x reader #rvb church x reader #red vs blue fanfiction #flower petals and blood

[raendown]

My very first commission story! I went a little over what you paid for @uintuva but that right there is my own fault. I got excited! :p

I had this formatted to look so nice in Word and forgot that I only have limited functions on AO3/tumblr. How rude. 

Pairing: TobiramaKakashi Rated: G Word count: 2540 Summary: Kakashi takes shelter from a freak blizzard in a cave that looks relatively harmless. What he finds within is anything but.

Follow the link or read it under the cut!

KO-FI and commission info in the blog header!

Not All Those Who Wander Are Lost

Kakashi’s fingers swirled through the air absently as he peered around the inside of the cave. Most people didn’t have the imagination to think you could do anything with lightning magic other than the obvious use of shooting bolts of it around willy-nilly. People with an actual brain in their head – people like him – were able to find other ways to utilize the gifts they had been born with. Sure it would have been much easier to warm himself in this surprise blizzard if he had been a fire wielder but he had made due in the past with his lightning and he would survive again with it now.

Separating the heat from his lightning was a delicate business but it was a trick he had learned to do when he was barely in to his double digits and it took very little of his attention, leaving him free to scout the unexpectedly spacious area in search of wood. Magic could only keep him warm for as long as he was awake to maintain it, after all. Kakashi was many things but a master of runes he was not.

To his dismay, however, there was precious little wood to be found, barely enough to scrape together a small mound that would probably sputter out before he managed to fall asleep if he lit it now. With a sigh he hunkered down and prepared to stay awake for as long as he could before lighting it. Hopefully the worst of the snow would have abated by tomorrow; staying awake half the night to keep himself warm would leave his magic stores seriously depleted, which would make staying here another night dangerous indeed.

He was kicking at his pitiful collection of sticks when he dropped his head back against the wall of his shelter and let his eyes stare aimlessly upwards, only to narrow them in interest. Why was the ceiling covered in scratch marks?

Actually once he looked a little closer they weren’t scratch marks at all. Gouged in to the rock, protected by a thick layer of accumulated ice, the entire ceiling was covered with ancient sigils. The closer he looked the more mesmerizing he found them. Whatever hand had carved them was steady and artistic with an eye for beauty, confident and bold. Not a single stroke was out of place in any of them and each sat a perfect equal distance from the others around it. It was beautiful.

It was glowing.

Kakashi jolted and scrambled to regain his feet when he realized that the sigils had slowly begun to gather a soft blue light while he sat there staring mindlessly. He’d had enough encounters with the weird runes that Obito sometimes dug out of his massive family treasury to know that glowing was not a good thing, glowing usually meant that one should begin running quickly and immediately. And he did try. His sad little attempt at preparing a fire scattered when he crashed through it hurrying towards the entrance, ignoring the sound of wood cracking underfoot as he reached the entrance only to be thrown back when he encountered an invisible barrier.

“Maa,” he mumbled under his breath. “That can’t mean anything good.” Banging a fist against the barrier proved it to be solid so he turned around and swept his eyes from side to side as he tried to figure out what was going on. A trap of some sort, perhaps, meant to capture unwary travelers. What for he didn’t know.

His ruminations didn’t get much farther than that. All thoughts in his head jangled to a terrified halt when he heard something rumble from deeper within the cavern, down the dark passageway that he hadn’t explored because it somehow hadn’t even registered on his mind. Now that his attention was drawn to it he realized he hadn’t even seen it until now. Only seriously powerful magic could have concealed something as massive as a giant tunnel from his senses, keener than most as they were.

Swallowing thickly and pressing back against the barrier, Kakashi prayed to the Five Temples as he watched the shadows in the passageway shift and sway. There was something massive hiding in there and it had clearly noticed him. And he just as clearly had no way to escape it. Suddenly he regretted leaving behind that ‘emergency teleportation rune’ that Obito had tried to press on him before he left home. It hadn’t seemed safe at the time – most of Obito’s gifts weren’t even if they were always well intended – but at the moment even getting caught in the void between spaces seemed like a better option than getting eaten by whatever the fuck was about to come out of that darkness.

“YOU SMELL OF HUMAN.” The voice rumbled through his very skull when it spoke and Kakashi could not have said how exactly he knew but immediately he became aware of three things: the creature was a male, he was ancient, and he was more curious than angry at being disturbed. None of that managed to completely abate the fear clutching at his chest though.

“Makes sense,” he murmured in to the cold air. “I was human last time I checked.”

“WITH A SENSE OF HUMOR IN THE FACE OF DANGER. HOW NOVEL.”

Kakashi resisted the urge to pull nervously at his collar. In part because it would only make his fear even more obvious to a creature who could probably smell it on him and in part because doing so would dislodge his tightly wound scarf. He didn’t want to die cold, after all.

“TELL ME, WHAT BRINGS YOU TO MY NEST, LITTLE ONE?”

“Well you know...if not warmer it just sort of seemed…less cold in here. Just trying to survive and what not. And what reason have you to, uh, kill me? Any chance I could…talk you out of that?” He offered a winning smile before realizing that it was covered by the scarf pulled up over half of his face.

Smoke drifting out from the shadows. Or rather, he realized after a moment, not smoke but steam, massive white clouds of hot breath steaming in the cold air as the creature chuckled with a rumbling sound he would have compared to rock grinding together thousands of feet beneath the earth. He wasn’t sure where that comparison came from but once the thought was there he couldn’t shake it.

He staggered a moment later when the ground shifted under him, shaking with the force of massive footsteps as the creature moved at last. When he looked up the shadows were just parting and his first impression was of white purer than snow could ever hope to be. Millions upon millions of glittering scales covered the sinuous body, all lean muscle and graceful movements despite his size. His eyes were the same deep red as one of Kakashi’s own, the same as the three slashes equally spaced around his snout which also matched to the line going down Kakashi’s face, and if not for the ceiling of the cavern being so low it was clear that his head would been held three times the height with pride.

“Well aren’t you something,” Kakashi breathed, only half aware he’d said anything. The dragon parted its lips to reveal fangs as thick as his arm and just as long. Steam rushed out in another rumbling chuckle but when he spoke his jaw moved not at all.

They were speaking in each other’s minds.

“YOU DO NOT HAVE THE MARK OF DEATH, HUMAN.” Between one step and the next his form began to shift, shrinking and changing shape, until within moments there was only a human man striding across the snow clad in nothing but mere wisps of cloth draped loosely around him to preserve little more than his modesty, held in place with what looked like his own scales. When he spoke this time it was at a much more normal volume – but it was still only inside their heads. “You are marked for something far more precious than that.”

“Ah, you’ll have to forgive me if that just sounds more ominous.” Kakashi chewed on his bottom lip as he watched the dragon in human form cover the last few inches between them, grinning to reveal that his teeth were still just as sharp in this body.

“I will not hurt you. Tell me your name.”

“Maa, will you talk normally if I do? Can you talk normally?” The creature looked more amused than offended, giving him the confidence to go on. “You just…it’s weird, your mouth not moving when you say something.”

Nodding, the creature tilted its head to look at him from another angle. Something about his eyes made Kakashi feel as though he were being pursues despite the fact that they were both standing completely still. Even stranger, the thought sent a thrill down his spine that was either fear or excitement and he couldn’t tell which.

“My name is Kakashi,” he said, adding a curious lilt to the last word in the hope that his possible doom might return the favor in kind.

“Kakashi,” the dragon creature rolled his name through his mouth as though tasting each syllable. “Welcome, Kakashi. My name is Tobirama and by ancient rites you have been marked.”

That certainly didn’t sound like anything good.

“Marked how? By what?”

He nearly leapt out of his skin when the creature, Tobirama, lifted a hand and brushed the side of his face with one finger tipped by a nail that tapered in to something more like a claw. This time when he felt the sensations sparking through him he recognized one that had absolutely no place in this encounter, something that hadn’t plagued him outside of his favorite forbidden novels in a long time. Why in the Temples’ names he should find this beast attractive was beyond him but by the Sage he did.

“Okay. Touching. Sure. Any chance we could get back to the part where you said I was marked? By what exactly? For what purpose?”

“To be mine,” Tobirama told him, teeth bared eyes shining with a dangerous sort of satisfaction. He peeled Kakashi’s scarf down with the tip of one claw and cupped his cheek. Then something in the air grew bright and close and in the next moment they were gone from the cave – or rather they had reappeared in what looked like a different part of what must have been an entire system of caves.

Usually it took several hours of preparation and the right combination of crystals to complete a teleportation spell and here it had been done without any of that, not so much as a single gesture or word, seemingly with barely even a thought. Kakashi would have been boggled if he hadn’t been so distracted with his new location.

So this is a dragon’s den, was all he could think. Above him the ceiling was coated in glittering ice protecting the same web of glowing sigils, blue and white and so beautiful it made him ache to look at them. The room they were in was massive and yet mostly filled with a bed that could have easily fit a fully grown dragon. It was a wonder when he found himself pushed down on to one edge of the mattress only to feel the surface under him as soft and springy as though it had never cradled a creature three times the size of a house. More magic at work, undoubtedly.

He was just thinking of how he wasn’t sure how many more surprises his poor heart could take when Tobirama pressed him down and gracefully spread out across his lap like a great white cat. Or perhaps a very small dragon, as it were. Kakashi held his arms out awkwardly until Tobirama huffed and drew them back in to set them atop his own head.

“Maa…so when you said…yours…”

“Mine,” Tobirama rumbled without moving or opening his eyes, a languid grin of satisfaction practically taking up his whole face. “My mate, come to me after all the years of lonely waiting. You are late but I will forgive you this transgression.”

“How kind of you,” Kakashi mumbled faintly. “Am I stuck here?”

Tobirama opened one eye to watch him very carefully. “Is the thought abhorrent to you?”

Something in his tone had changed, for the first time afflicted with the slightest hint of uncertainty, and as they stared at each other Kakashi recalled his vague memories of the elective he had taken at the University where he studied his lightning abilities, the class on ancient beasts that he had chosen on a whim. Kushina-sensei loved kitsune above all else but even she had spoken in a reverent tone when teaching them all she could of dragons. The one lesson that came back to him with sudden clarity was that dragons, like many other mythical beasts of unknown origin, had very complicated yet very sacred mating rituals.

Watching the tension slowly grow in Tobirama’s shoulders even as he remained deceptively at ease, Kakashi determined that this creature who could tear him limb from limb without effort was actually nervous for his opinion. Tobirama wanted him to stay. More than that, he wanted Kakashi to want to stay. Something in his deep magic had told him that Kakashi was the one he had been waiting for – presumably for decades, dragons’ lifespans were unbelievable – but no matter how ingrained his own instincts were he could not force them upon a human.

Probably the most important decision of his entire life, this should have been something he asked for a little time to think about. He had always been someone who showed up late and jumped in with both feet though.

“Are you going to sleep on me like this a lot?” he asked. Tobirama blinked once before the tension released and his entire body began to rumble with a purring noise.

“Yes. All dragons slumber upon their most treasured possessions.”

“Well isn’t that sweet.”

Tobirama snorted and Kakashi dared to pet the hair that his hands had been forcefully set upon. He was rewarded with an even louder rumbling purr, almost enough to echo off the walls in this great cavern. It was lucky, he supposed, that he hadn’t been on any sort of official errand. Asuma would forgive him if he happened to show up late for his visit. He could always claim the weather had held him back and he wouldn’t exactly be lying.

He wondered if Tobirama would be open to going out in to the world with him. Either way, life as a dragon’s partner sounded like a grand new adventure. Kakashi closed his eyes and laid back on the furs underneath them with his fingers still idly carding through his companion’s beautiful hair. He was just happy to have stumbled upon this adventure without having to go look for it.

#rae writes #commission work #tobikaka #tobirama #kakashi #magic au #fantasy au #fanfiction

[imrvbtrashdealwithit]

Survival and Perseverance: The Great War Part Two

I sort of lost my confidence last month, I was about to delete but figured what’s the worst that could happen? I’ve got a tag going on my blog Survival and Perseverance if you want to read the first part.

Elizabeth has been on the Valarius base for a few months now, David has some unfortunate news to share.

“Oh my God it is so good to see you, Patches!” David’s voice soothed her. He had started calling her that when they were young, she remembered his mother scolding him about it, but Elizabeth had never been self conscious about her spots. She smiled broadly, feeling tears come to her eyes at seeing her husband on the screen.

“It’s good to see you, David. God I miss you.” Elizabeth told him. He was lying sleepily in a bunk, his face lit up by a computer  screen in an otherwise dark room. She was sure he was bothering somebody. She didn’t really care much. Elizabeth grabbed her brush and started brushing her wet hair.

“I lost a few men a couple of days ago… it wasn’t pleasant.” Elizabeth said, David slung an arm over his forehead, looking at her with one cracked open eye.

“Yeah, we lost some guys too.” David said quietly. She gave a sigh, looking at him longingly. She missed him, wanted to touch him. Wanted to count those stupid freckles of his in the hushed light of night.

“I got news about Ethan.” David told her, looking remorseful and sad, heartbreak in his eyes. Her eyes widened, she knew what that meant.

“He got taken out… reports said covenants sliced him open…tortured him to death.” His voice cracked and Elizabeth leaned back in her chair, reaching towards the camera screen. Ethan and David had been close, a relationship had sprung between the two of them and Elizabeth couldn’t have been happier for David. She and Ethan had been good friends, once he actually let her get close. She had to drag him off the battlefield once, nearly breaking her damn spine in the process; but he let her in after that. They remained silent, heartbreak choking out any words that either one of them tried to say.

“I was just… I was holding out that I would get to see him one more time… Elizabeth, I knew the chances were slim, but… somehow I just… I thought I knew I would see him again…” David told her, tears falling down his cheeks, she blinked rapidly, gasping. Oh God, all she wanted to do was curl into her husband’s side and comfort him.

“I’m so sorry David. I would give anything to be there with you.” She told him, leaning towards the computer screen. She ached, not being able to be there for him was killing her. She just wanted to wrap him in her arms and protect him. But she couldn’t.

When she got out of the military, she would go back to Earth and David would stay in. This was his career. It would be like this, computer screens and empty arms for most of their youth, until the war ended, or until David got to old to be a proper soldier in the field.

She had intended on telling him about Sam, but that was completely out of the picture now, at least until their next call. She tried her best to comfort him until both were just too exhausted to  stay online any longer and then guiltily logged off. Then Elizabeth groggily climbing into her bunk and conked out.

She sat down in the mess hall over a bowl of gruel and a steaming cup of weak coffee. She missed David already, with every fiber of her being. She drank from the cup and ignored the pain as the hot coffee flavored water burned her throat. It wasn’t even satisfying.

“When we get home, I’m eating like ten cookie cakes and you cannot stop me.” David’s voice from a previous video chat.

“Yeah, and I’m going to buy the fanciest fucking coffee I can get my grubby hands on.” His laugh rang in her ears. She didn’t react much when someone dropped their meal next to her and plopped down on the bench.

“Heya, Lieutenant.” It was Felix. This was strange. She didn’t trust this. He wasn’t a threat, obviously, but… she wouldn’t consider him her friend.

“What do you want, Felix?” She asked, digging a spoon into her breakfast.

“Who said I want anything?” Felix replied, she gazed at him through a bleary corner of her eye. She really wasn’t in the mood to deal with him. She stuffed the spoon indignantly in her mouth. She wanted strawberry applesauce.

She didn’t have to talk to him. She could ignore him.

“You’re getting awfully close with Locus, huh?” Felix said, his sneaky little weasel face twisting into a sneaky little grin. Elizabeth grimaced.

“Okay, Felix, I talked to my husband last night, someone we care about deeply is dead. If you’ve got an ulterior motives under this sunny little facade of yours I’m going to break your arm.” She told him, not even bothering to look at him to gauge his reaction.

“Alright then, I will be going.” Felix said definitely grabbing his bowl and moving away from her down the table. She was glad that was over. But he did have ulterior motives apparently. She was not happy about that. Ulterior motives in a platoon in the middle of nowhere was not a good thing. However she corrected herself, she did just threaten to break his arm. For being friendly. Gates didn’t have to deal with a bitchy CO over breakfast if he didn’t want to. She huffed, quickly eating her breakfast and downing that disgusting drivel she took her bowl and mug to the kitchens and went to her bunk and slipped into fresh kevlar suit and started to put on her armor.

“Lieutenant Summers?” Locus’s voice sounded from the hall. She looked over her shoulder and grabbed her helmet and opened the door. Apparently today was a day off for him, he was wearing civvies. She tried to give him a smile.

“Felix told me about what happened… what you said.” He told her, Elizabeth adjusted her gauntlets, balling and unclenching her fists repeatedly.

“David told me Ethan died.” She said. Sam gave her a sympathetic look, brows setting heavily over his eyes.

“You’re not taking a day?” He asked, she shook her head, pulling on her helmet, the familiar hiss of it pressurizing did something to sooth her.

“People die every day, Sam. It’s true here, it’s true on the enemy lines. Death is inescapable, even if you’re a SPARTAN, you don’t live forever.” She said, feeling lead in her gut. Was he afraid in the end? Did he think about them? She grabbed her piece and placed it on her hip, then her assault rifle and placed it on her back.

“How many other people did Felix run his mouth to?” She asked, adjusting her chestplate. Sam sighed through his nose, running his hand through his hair.

“Just me.” He answered. She nodded.

“Make sure it stays that way for me.” Elizabeth told him. Sam gave her a nod. “Thank you.”

She ran drills, worked hard, sparred with the soldiers, and practiced shooting until the sun went down. Then she walked the base, quiet as could be. Ethan crept around in the back of her mind, not leaving her, God, was David okay? Why did they put them in different platoons?

She was in the back of the base when she felt the tell tale bubbling of a sob tickle her throat. Elizabeth tried to swallow it. She found herself leaning against the concrete wall behind her, clutching her rifle as tightly as she could. The sob ripped itself from her clamped down vocal cords and broke out into the quiet night. Tears slipped from her eyes, down her cheek and she dropped her rifle, clutching the visor of her helmet.

“Oh God.” She whimpered, curling into a ball on the ground. The thought that she had to pull herself together drifted aimlessly through her mind.

“Lieutenant Summers.” The voice was quiet and unassuming. She looked up seeing Locus in a pair of sweats and a zip up hoodie.

“Go back to your bunk, Ortez. If you’re not armed or armored, you don’t need to be out here.” She ordered, he patted his piece, his subtle brand of defiance gleaming in his eyes. She frowned.

“Go back before I make it an order, Sergeant Ortez.” She hissed, she was still his superior. He had to do what she said if it was an order. Sam tilted his head down, giving her a knowing look.

I’m out here, for you. She was used to being able to decipher a man’s thoughts by his silence and facial expressions, both Sam and Ethan had expressive faces.

“Please, Sam, I don’t want you to get hurt.” She begged.

God she was so young. Too young to be out here, too young to be a leader. She had the makings of it, but she was just too green. He knelt down and sat at her side, looking at her silently. Elizabeth curled in on herself, clutching the back of her head. He awkwardly put an arm around her shoulders, trying to ignore the flush of heat in his face.

“I don’t know the extent of your relationship with the SPARTAN, other than what you told me, but I think you should maybe take at least a day.” Sam suggested quietly.  She shook her head stubbornly.  

“I'm fine if I'm working. Just sitting in my bunk with my thoughts isn't going to help me. I was fine until I was alone. I'm a leader, Ortez, I can't just ‘take a day’ this isn't elementary school! I have to keep going.” She said. She had to keep going because Ethan couldn't. She had to keep going because she knew David was. David who had loved the man was still going.

“Things are just too quiet. That's all. If I retreat into my thoughts, I just-” She paused. “I hear them. Every scream, every soldier cut off in the middle of a sentence because of a plasma shot, and he was so quiet but I just can't stop thinking about what his screams must have sounded like, if he screamed at all.” She said voice still oh so shaky but she shrugged his arm off her shoulder and grabbed her SAW then stood up.

“Go back to your bunk, Ortez, that's an order.” She said, looking down at him from over her shoulder. He gave a huff but obeyed. She watched him go, burning a hole into the back of his neck. Elizabeth's heart hurt, an actual dull ache in her chest. She stalked around the base, an unseen scowl on her face as she forced her heart to harden. Ethan was gone. He was secretly sweet and loving and he loved David with all his heart, but he was gone. There was no use in crying. There was no use in stopping to mourn in the middle of a war. There would be time to mourn when the fighting was done. She may be young, but she knew how war worked.

“Heard about your little rendezvous with Summers.” Felix said as he sat down next to Locus in the mess hall. Locus didn't sleep after the encounter with Summers last night.

“Rendezvous would mean that we planned it.” Locus said simply, taking a drink from the god awful coffee that the kitchen made.

“I don't see what she's so upset about. Not like she was ever going to see him again anyways.” Felix said.

“I don't think she's hurting just because he's gone. Her husband was closer to him than she was. Lieutenant Summers is just incredibly empathetic. It's a dangerous quality to have in the midst of a war.” Locus explained as he rolled the container of strawberry applesauce in his hands. She was fond of it, he remembered the excited ‘fuck yeah!’ that leapt from Summers’s mouth when they first started serving it in the mess hall.

“She’ll get with the program or she won’t, either way it's not our problem.” Felix said just before taking a drink from his cup.

“How is an emotionally compromised commanding officer not our problem, Felix?” Locus replied. Felix gave him a slick glance from the corner of his eye.

“We’ve survived worse.” He replied. This was a good point, so Locus gave a shrug, grabbed his helmet and returned his bowl to the kitchen. He still had the applesauce in hand and went on his way to the lieutenant’s quarters. He quickly input the code, having watched her put it in himself and slipped quietly into her room. She was asleep at her desk, surrounded by drawings. They were of the same few people. People she knew. Locus simply placed the applesauce on the desk next to her and retreated, seeing Felix in the shadow of the corridor.

“Okay now that's just fucking cliche.” Felix told him, crossing his arms over his chest.

“They make her happy. You want an upset CO, fine. Go take it for yourself. Sometimes I think you forget what it's like to be human.” Locus told him spitefully. Felix cocked a crooked grin.

“Calm down, I didn't mean anything by it.” Felix said a dismissive grin on his face, Locus only shoved his way past Felix and down the hall, putting his helmet on and going outside.

Felix sent the sleeping CO a glance, the cogs turning in his head, then left.

She woke up to the alarm going off. Elizabeth stood up, knocking something to the ground from her desk.  She opened her eyes and looked down, her heart jumping at the sight of a familiar pinkish red container on the floor. Strawberry applesauce. She cracked a grin.

“Fuck yeah.” She said aloud. She rose and stretched, groaning as the vertebrae in her back popped then went over to her armor and under suit and started to pull them on. She grabbed the applesauce cup and headed towards the mess hall. She wasn't outright smiling but the sadness plaguing her had been placed on the back burner.  

She fell into line in the mess hall, turning down the Private who stood in front of her when she offered to let Elizabeth cut and silently waited her turn. A couple of soldiers fell in line behind her and she sent them a glance.  Locus and Felix, she gave them both a respectful nod. She had in her hand the cup of applesauce. She wondered who gave it to her. Maybe the other lieutenant, he knew the code to her room. But why would he bother?

She silently listened to Felix rattle off to Locus about this, that, and the other thing as the line moved forward. Locus seemed disinterested or perhaps distracted. Then it dawned on her. Sam gave the applesauce to her. She sent him a glance and a what was hopefully subtle smile. He gave her a nod in return.

Despite the encounters they had, Locus and Elizabeth didn't really spend a lot of time together during the day, other than drills. Not much one on one time was spent together. Sometimes she felt like there was a lingering gaze on her coming from his direction, but she never thought much of it.

She got her food and went on to her normal spot in the cafeteria, she liked being alone at the start of her day. She would use her time to clear her head, play through her head the plans of the day.

“Hey.” Sam’s voice caused her to look up, Felix stood behind him, looking slightly miffed.

“This isn’t high school, sit down and eat or move on to the next table, Ortez.” Felix gave a smirk and a side glance at her from his place barely behind Sam.

The soldiers took a seat across from her, she was a little happy that they weren’t including her in their conversation, however Sam was leaving it open to her. She gave a quiet sigh, actually enjoying the company. They were talking about plans for upcoming shore leave, she wasn’t quite sure which one of them was leaving because she wasn’t actually paying all that much attention.

He remembered what she said last night, about being alone, and how it brought the thoughts back. She usually ate on her own, he watched her silently eat as he and Felix conversed, well as he listened to Felix jabber on.

He knew she very obviously wasn’t paying him and Felix any mind, he hadn’t intended on her actively speaking with them. It made sense though, she hardly got close to any of the other soldiers, she was a fair leader, but that was it, she didn’t do much else other than lead orders and actively save lives. It was fair, really, for her to not want to get close to anyone.

“Hey, what do you plan on doing once you get out?” Felix spoke directly to Lieutenant Summers, she looked up from the tin foil cap of the applesauce in her hands.

“Oh well… my plan was go back to school. I guess it still is.” She told him simply, then ripping the cup open and grabbed her spoon.

“School huh, gonna get in some more book learning?” Locus wasn’t sure what Felix was trying to do. This wasn’t like him. Apparently Summers picked up on this as well, looking back up with a cocked eyebrow and a sort of daring look in her eyes.

“Psychiatry. But yes, I suppose you could peg that under ‘book learning.’”

“Oh a shrink? Think you’ll be able to handle it?” Felix asked. She nodded.

“I don’t see why I wouldn’t be able to.” Lieutenant said simply and as-a-matter-of-factly. Locus looked at her with an interested glance. She had been questioning herself before. Maybe she was dealing with it. That seemed to signal the end of her conversation with Felix as she finished her treat and then left the mess hall with her helmet tucked under her arm.

“What was that about?” Locus asked. Felix leaned forward.

“You really want to fool with a college student?” Locus looked away, what was with Felix, was he jealous? It was ludicrous.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Felix.” He said, standing up and leaving the mess hall himself.

They were perched on a cliff, Elizabeth was lying on her belly staring down the scope of the sniper rifle at the road below, Locus and Felix were sent along with her. Felix wouldn’t shut his mouth. She kept giving him annoyed looks over her shoulder, but he wasn’t overly interested in her nor was it obvious through her visor.

“Would you please, shut the hell up?” Elizabeth whispered angrily. “We are on recon, Gates, shut up and keep an eye out for approaching hostiles.” She spat at him. His poor attempt at a brain pick earlier in the month still had her feathers a little ruffled. He going on shore leave in a few weeks, she’d be able to breathe a little easier on missions. He was cocky and stupid so she had to put extra effort into keeping him alive versus the other soldiers. If she had known the problem he was going to be when she saved him promptly on her arrival she would have reconsidered for a moment.

“Sir, yes, sir. Keeping an eye out for hostiles, sir!” Felix said with faux bravado and she wanted to gut punch him as he walked down the trail with his rifle at eye level. Locus was standing quietly behind her in the shadow of the cliff at their backs.

She readjusted the sniper rifle and rolled her shoulders, her elbows felt tight. Everything felt tight. She was tense. Elizabeth had a few phone calls with David and she was considering telling him about her feelings for Sam, it had been a few months since David had told her Ethan was dead. It still bothered her, the unpleasant thought popping into her head when she lie awake at night trying to sleep.

Tonight she was talking to David. She and Sam had been getting closer, he was important to her now, against her better judgement. He was a few years older than her, and judging by the death rate of the people she got close to she felt like he was in some sort of danger all the time. Yet another thing keeping her awake at night.

“You know how Felix asked me about what I want to do when I get out?” She whispered to Sam and he looked at her, head lowering from gazing across the plains. He gave a sigh.

“Yes, I remember. He seemed to have struck some nerve, Lieutenant.” Sam replied, she grinned, looking back through the scope of the rifle.

“He did but that’s not what this is about. What do you want to do once you get out?” She asked.

“I know you’re a career military man, but even career military man get out.” She continued upon his initial silence.

Not unless they get killed, which is something that happens to people you care about. That annoying ass little voice that reminded Elizabeth of Felix a little spoke.

“I don’t know. I’ve never really thought about it. The military’s my life. What I do know is that I don’t intend to quit until the war is over.” He told her. Was there a bit of ice to his comment? Did he think she was a coward for wanting to get out and go to school? She looked back at him over her shoulder.

“You think it’s going to end anytime soon?” Elizabeth asked. He gave a hum, one of those rumbly hums that somehow she felt the vibrations of it. She liked those hums.

“I don’t think so. Not unless someone takes drastic measures.” Sam answered. Someone would eventually, she just feared which side it would be.

Movement through the scope caught her attention before she could reply to him.

“They’re mobilizing.” She said, jumping up and tossing the rifle to Sam. He caught it with ease, almost like he had been expecting it, then placed it on his back and they moved. Elizabeth took her SAW off her back and started to trek down the path. They found Felix sitting against a rock. Elizabeth rolled her eyes and barked an order at him to move. At the bottom of the cliff her squad was waiting for her orders.

They approached the bridge, Elizabeth grabbed the climbing gear from a soldier and a couple of charges to blow the bridge with.  She stepped out onto the steel beams keeping the bridge in place. Sam followed suit on the other side of the bridge. She hooked herself to the beams and carefully crept across to the center of the bridge. Elizabeth and Sam kept an eye on each other, her heart skipped a beat when he slipped. He was silent despite dangling thousands of feet above the ground by a mere titanium alloy rope.

Elizabeth wanted to help, but he was already working his way back up to the beams.

“Haha, nice fuck up, Locus.” Felix said over the coms.

“Shut up.” She grinned at Sam’s curt and annoyed reply. She stopped as they came to the arch,

she placed her charges and then looked to Sam, who was just getting to his position.

“I don’t know why you assigned the squad heavy to do this, I would have been a much better choice, Lieutenant.” Felix said over the coms again.

“Locus is even headed and not competitive. You would have seen this as a contest. As you see everything, Gates. Locus is clearly the better choice.” She replied.

“Contests make things more fun.” Felix told her.

“Contests cause unnecessary actions to be taken and puts the team at risk. I’m not risking my men because you want to show off.” She spoke definitively. She got to work syncing the detonator and the charges and then started to make her way back to the road.

“Wait, Locus, you’re the team heavy?” She asked, looking at him. She could hear Felix’s howling laughter from where she stood on the bridge supports.

“I am classified as a ‘heavy’ yes.” Sam replied. “I assumed you missed the fact because you worked with a SPARTAN.” He continued. The mention of Ethan sent a pang through her and she looked down, she wasn’t really ever afraid of heights.

“Did you know I specialize in taking out heavies?” She asked innocently enough.

“Oh my God, are you flirting with him?” Felix interrupted, Elizabeth actually laughed, a pure laugh that she hadn’t used in a while.

“If physical pain causes him pleasure then maybe.” Elizabeth said teasingly. Sam coughed uncomfortably.

“Oh don’t be a baby, Ortez.” She told him, shaking her head in his direction.

“I would prefer we not discuss my sexual preferences while scaling an alien bridge.” Felix gave a snort over comms.

“Or at all in that matter.” Sam added quickly.

“Ha! Too late, you fucked it up.” Elizabeth poked at him. Ortez gave a slightly amused hum, as though trying to hide it from the others.

She and Sam made it safely back to the ground and then the squad took refuge in a ditch while they waited for the alien convoy to get to the bridge. Elizabeth had to blow it right as the entire convoy made it onto the bridge. The squad was trying to take out a supply delivery. The entire brigade was meant for taking out supply drops and putting down the enemy’s comms on this planet.

The roar of alien engines disrupted the squad’s conversation, they had steered away from Sam’s ‘sexual preferences’ and Elizabeth had managed to make Felix the butt of the joke for once, who was currently pouting as the two privates talked to Sam and Elizabeth. She looked up, then ducked down, taking the privates to the ground with her. Sam had to tug Felix down and Elizabeth hit the detonator. Dust and powdered cemented jumped into the air, blocking out the sun as the ground quaked with the blast. The rumble of crumbling bridge pieces continued into the air after the initial explosion.

After the smoke settled, she looked up cautiously, the bridge was out and the convoy was nowhere to be seen.

“There, now all we have to do is find a way to keep them out of the sky.” She commented as the other soldiers got to their feet.

“Small supply ships can’t fly because of the winds, all we have to do is worry about is the larger ones closer to the hubs.” Sam commented as he stood up. She nodded.

“Alright, let’s get back to base everyone.” Elizabeth ordered and started to lead the way back. The sun was setting, casting long shadows over the dusty ground. These were dead plains, nothing grew here and no one bothered to inhabit it. The alien’s carved their cities into the mountainsides, the humans built their bases in the grassy plains, this was a no man’s land. But it was all that was keeping the aliens and the humans apart.

#survival and perseverance #rvb #original character #Locus rvb #Felix rvb