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baroquebucky · 3 years

Text

love

a/n: hi hi !! here is another fic inspired by one of my fave bts songs <33 hope u all enjoy lmk what u think !! pls excuse any typos

bucky was cold and sad before you, now he is warm and happy, most of all, he’s in love

word count: 3k

masterlist

Bucky woke up from another nightmare, a thin layer of sweat on his forehead. He let out a shaky breath, looking around his empty apartment. He got up and washed his face, looking at himself in the mirror before tearing his gaze away.

Bucky didn’t sleep for the rest of the night, busying himself until sunrise, when he left his apartment and walked to park nearby.

That’s where he met you.

You were playing fetch with your dog, nearly tumbling over every time he jumped on you to get the ball from your hand, laughing as he would sprint away from you, tongue sticking out.

Bucky smiled at the sight, wishing he had a let of his own. You caught him staring at your dog and smiled, saying a quick ‘hello!’ and calling for you dog to come back.

Bucky returned a smile, the path he was on leading him towards where you stood. Your dog bounded over to you, ball in mouth and dropping it at your feet.

“do you wanna pet him?” You smiled at bucky, your dog staring at him wearily as he stopped near you.

“uh- he doesn’t seem like a fan” Bucky chuckled and you shook your head, scratching behind your dogs ear.

“he’s just protective, his name is ace” you smiled, walking towards Bucky slowly, ace following suit and sniffing at Bucky’s boots.

Ace warmed up to bucky quickly, sitting at his feet and waiting for his payment of pats. Bucky smiled, crouching down to pet him, the dogs soft fur against his hand made him smile.

You smiled at the interaction, thinking of what to say next, you knew this was the Bucky Barnes and you didn’t want to embarrass yourself.

“I’m y/n” you spoke as Bucky got back up, putting his gloves back on quickly. He turned to face you, a charming smile on his face.

“I’m Bucky” he replied, blushing as he finally saw your face, and wow were you breathtaking.

Your eyes met and you both blushed, you struggled to find words to keep the conversation going, not wanting him to leave so soon.

Is this love?

“why are you up so early” you asked, throwing the ball so ace could chase after it, still full of energy.

He paused for a moment before answering, “just an early bird” he smiled, you nodded. “what about you?” he asked, standing next to you as ace came back, dropping the ball at his feet this time.

“i have to tire him out before i go to work, so i gotta wake up early” you smiled, yawning not long after. You blushed and mumbled a quick ‘sorry’ and Bucky smiled at you.

Ace pranced back, no longer wanting to run around and play, only wanted to get back to his cozy bed and lounge for the rest of the day.

“we should get going, this guy makes me carry him to the car and up the stairs if he’s too tired” you laughed, bucky smiled and said goodbye, giving ace a few final pats before saying goodbye to him too.

Sometimes i know, sometimes i don’t

Bucky thought about you and your four legged friend for the rest of the day, wondering if you had always been there when he went for walks, was he too caught up in his own mind to even realize?

Bucky felt the day go by fast, feeling lighter than he had been the day before, talking to his neighbors a bit more and feeling tired by the time the clock hit 12 am rather than the usual 3 am.

He woke up early the next day, another nightmare shaking him awake, checking the clock it read 5:54 am, the sun barely about to rise.

He got up, changing and washing his face, brushing his teeth and heading out the door in 30 minutes.

The sun was up as he walked to the park, keeping an eye out for you, and sure enough there you were, this time throwing a frisbee to entertain ace. You looked exhausted and bucky felt a pang in his chest, how long did you sleep?

Your gaze me Buckys and you smiled brightly, perking up a bit as he walked closer.

“good morning bucky!” You smiled, ace running towards him, his frisbee in his mouth as he jumped to greet the super soldier.

“good morning y/n, and good morning ace!” He smiled, putting on a higher pitched voice for the dog who wagged his tail happily, hitting the mans leg with the frisbee.

Bucky took the frisbee, throwing it so ace could chase after it, you both smiled at your dog, running as fast as he could to catch the disk.

“how’d you sleep?” You asked, noticing the bags under his eyes, he shrugged.

“as well as i usually do. You?” He asked, trying to mask his concern.

“it was okay, wish i could’ve gotten more though” you smiled rubbing your burning eyes before throwing the frisbee once more.

Bucky nodded in agreement, the two of you making small talk until you and ace left once again.

“I’ll see you tomorrow?” You asked, putting a leash on ace and walking with Bucky towards your car. Bucky smiled brightly, nodding his head.

“yeah, I’ll see you tomorrow” he replied, already looking forward to it.

You are the one who will give meaning to my memories

For two weeks you and bucky met up and played with ace at the park during early mornings, sometimes walking around the park and talking about your days and what you had to do. Neither one of you prying too much, just enjoying each other’s company.

Bucky reminisced on the memories with a fond smile as he told Steve about you.

“no yeah she’s great, her dog is really cute too” bucky spoke, giddy to see you on Monday.

“why don’t you ask her out then?” Steve questioned and bucky shook his head, not knowing how he would even approach the situation.

The following Monday you greeted bucky with a smile, ace bounding over to him in excitement.

As the two of you fell into routine, Steve’s words rung in his ears, deciding to take a leap of faith.

“would you- do you maybe wanna get dinner someday? together?” Bucky asked, a charming smile on his face as ace wagged his tail, looking up at you, almost as if saying ‘do it! say yes!’

“uh- yeah I’d love that” you smiled at bucky, both of you relieved that the you weren’t alone in wanting more time together.

Before i knew you my heart was filled with straight lines

Bucky was excited for your first date, putting on his best clothes and getting some flowers for you on the way, knocking on your door and heading aces familiar bark.

You opened the door, wearing a nice and casual outfit, letting Bucky in and thanking him for the flowers.

“I’m gonna just put these in water, feel free to sit down” you smiled, hurrying around to finish as quick as possible.

Bucky nodded, taking a seat on your couch and looking around, your home was so, homey. Ace smiling proudly as Bucky pet him.

“okay shall we?” You laughed and bucky smiled, saying goodbye to ace as you closed the door and headed out. Bucky offered you his arm and you gladly took it, walking down the stairs with your arms linked.

“ace makes you carry him all the way up these?” He asked in shock and you nodded, letting out a small chuckle.

“don’t let him fool you he is very evil” you teased, Bucky widened his eyes and nodded his head.

“note to self, never get on aces bad side” he smiled as you laughed, continuing to make easy conversation for the rest of the night.

Bucky found himself being nicer to Sam and the rest of the team, hanging out with them more and even cracking jokes.

“you don’t stare anymore” sam spoke, a smile on his face as steve turned to look at bucky.

“Hm, he doesn’t” steve smirked and bucky rolled his eyes.

“got tired of looking at your face is all” he snickered, making the two other men laugh, bucky took a sip from his beer.

“he’s seeing a girl y’know” steve whispered and bucky groaned as Sam cheered. Bucky couldn’t help but smile as he thought of you. It had only been a week since your first date and he already wanted to take you out again, despite having seen you this morning.

I’d like to be in your novel as a lover

Time passed and you and bucky got closer, going on more dates and texting each other during the day, even calling each other when one of you couldn’t sleep.

Bucky told you about his nightmares, telling you how he would always wake up, too afraid to go back to sleep so he would wait until sunrise and go for a walk.

You told him how you had trouble sleeping, sometimes your mind would just never stop, other times you just had too much work.

Within two months bucky has asked you out, a bouquet of roses for you and treats for ace, he has set up a picnic for you during the sunset, getting your favorite foods and talking the entire evening, finally asking you out when the moon had risen.

I’m just a human, you erode all my edges and turn me into love

You made bucky a better person, teaching him his self worth and to be proud of who he was.

“Bucky wake up, angel it’s just a nightmare” you shook him gently, ace watching from the foot of the bed.

Bucky shot up quickly, breathing heavily as you placed a hand on his back, pulling him into you after he has calmed down.

“you’re here, you’re with me you’re okay” you assured him, wrapping him in your arms and holding him tightly.

“it was bad, i was bad” he mumbled, tears falling down his face.

“you aren’t him. you are good, you are human baby, you’re my love” he squeezed his eyes shut, focusing on your steady heartbeat as you ran your fingers through his hair, his arm draping over your stomach as he slowly fell back to sleep.

Buckys nightmares became more scarce, he became happier and less cold, embracing who he was.

He was also helplessly in love with you, constantly buying you flowers, taking you out on dates, taking care of you when he could, writing you letters, and so much more.

You make live to a love

After coming into his life you made bucky a better person, you made him into the person he always wanted to be.

Bucky no longer walked with his head down, rather he walked with a set gaze, giving a kind smile to strangers on the street and helping those in need, helping the others his friends when they needed him and even volunteering at the local animal shelter when he could.

Because of you i know why a person should live by love

Before you bucky would punch his way out of all his fights, he would be hot headed and angry if he got into an argument with someone on the team.

Now he was understanding and patient, listening to what the other had to say and looking to reason with them, taking time to communicate. Bucky was sympathetic, not wanting to fight every villain they came across, instead trying to reason with them. Between him and Sam, usually they didn’t even have to fight.

I live so i love

“angel? I’m home!” You called out, ace greeting you at the door, smiling at the freshly cooked dinner on the dining table, it was your favorite.

“Happy one year doll” Bucky smiled as you turned around, hugging him tightly and kissing him all over his face.

“buck i don’t know what to say” you smiled, still in awe of all he had done.

“don’t say anything, just go get changed and let’s enjoy our night yeah?” He replied, kissing you once more before letting you go.

You were thankful he opted for a night in, exhausted from work and wanting only to be in your lovers arms. And you did exactly that, spending the night dancing in your living room, laughing at his bad jokes and sharing stories.

“okay best pick up line go” you smiled, excited to see what he would say.

“not really a pick up line but” Bucky paused, looking you in the eyes. “It’s a long way from I to U, fuck JKLMNOPQRST, i crossed all the letters and i reached you” he smirked, loving the way your heart raced at his words.

“now i know why you were such a ladies man in the 40s” you whispered, crashing his lips onto yours.

If i go would you be sad?

“God james cant you just shut up and listen to me for one second!” You stated, voice raising out of frustration.

“well maybe if you could get it through your stubborn head that it wasn’t my fault maybe I’d stop having to explain” Bucky spoke angry, his voice steady as he clenched his jaw.

You were upset he had kept you in the dark about an ongoing mission, he was upset you didn’t realize he had done it to keep you safe.

“you keep saying you did it to keep me safe, James i was almost killed because i didn’t know! How is that keeping me safe?” You spoke, anger boiling over as you sat on the couch, wanting to just sleep.

“if i had told you, you would have never let me be as protective as i have been! You wouldn’t have taken your vacation days because you’re too stubborn” Bucky spoke, still standing across from you.

“I just need some time to think” you spoke softly, Bucky’s heart fell. We’re you gonna leave him?

“I’ll go” Bucky mumbled, already moving to pack a bag.

“bucky stop” you spoke, making him stop in his tracks. “sit down i don’t want you to leave, let’s talk about it angel” you sighed, wanting to just work it out and be in his arms once more.

You’re my love

Bucky was excited, everything had been planned perfectly. He had woken up at 4 am, getting everything ready for the following morning.

He had driven to the park with Sam and Steve who helped him set up the picnic, a blanket laid out with fruits and drinks along with dog toys to play with ace.

It had been nearly 4 years since the two of you had met, he knew you were the one for him.

As the sun rose you woke up, getting ready to take ace out with Bucky, only to find the two of them gone.

Just as you finished getting ready bucky walked in, a smile on his face.

“goodmorning doll, let’s get going yeah? already got ace in the car” he smiled and you thanked him, heading out the door and to the park.

when you arrived you immediately saw the picnic.

“buck what-” you began and he cut you off.

“just because” he smiled and you smiled, sure he always took you on dates but this was different, it felt more intimate.

As the two of you sat on the blanket and munched on food ace ate some treats bucky had gotten him, excited to play in a couple of minutes.

“I taught him a new trick” Bucky smiled and you raised your eyebrows, sitting up straighter to see ace perform said trick.

“let’s see what you got Barnes” you smirked and he smiled.

“ace go fetch!” Bucky spoke, ace ran from the blanket in a straight line.

“haha bucky, we both know he already knew that, plus you didn’t even throw-” you cut yourself off as you saw ace pick something up, running back towards the two of you. Bucky stood up, offering you a hand so you could get up.

“y/n, i love you, you taught me what love is, you made me into a better person, from the moment we met i always felt like we were meant to be.” Bucky spoke, glancing over to see ace closer to the two of you, a little over halfway back.

“you’re my person, my desire, my pride, my one and only love” Bucky spoke, crouching down and taking the small box from aces mouth, letting him and giving him more treats.

Bucky got on one knee, opening the box and looking at you with bright eyes. Your vision was blurry, but unlike four years ago, it wasn’t from sleep, but from tears.

“y/n, doll, will you marry me?”

You nodded your head quickly, wiping away your tears and smiling brightly.

“yes, of course yes angel” you replied, wrapping your arms around him as he picking you up and spun you around, setting you down and kiss you, making your knees weak.

He slipped the ring on your finger with a smile, ace barking as the two of you kissed once more, pulling away with a smile.

“that has to be his best trick” you joked, petting ace and kissing the top of his head.

“now i gotta train him to be the ring bearer for the wedding” Bucky laughed and you nodded, squinting your eyes as you saw Sam and Steve running in the distance.

“is that-?” You questioned and bucky laughed, the two men cheering as they saw you and bucky cuddled up.

“she said yes!” Bucky called out and the two men cheered, arriving out of breath.

“thank god, he woke us up at like 3 am to get everything ready” sam spoke and Steve nodded, giving the two of you a hug, Sam quickly following suit.

“I’m happy for you guys” Sam spoke, Steve nodding along side him, squeezing Buckys arm before they left the two of you alone.

You smiled as you looked up at the sky, pinks and reds painting the clouds. You turned to tell bucky, but decided against it when you saw him on the floor playing with ace, voice high pitched as he baby talked him.

Your heart melted, you couldn’t wait to spend the rest of you life with your two favorite boys.

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finelinevogue · 3 years

Note

can you write about harry helping reader cope with really bad anxiety ?

this is going to be based off the anxiety that i’m more aware of, but i appreciate that it’s different for everyone and i apologise if it isn’t accurate to you <33

The world felt like it was about to end.

It was as if the sky was pushing in to the ground and decompressing you and your lungs. It was like the ground was about to swallow you whole and your legs were too glued to save yourself. There was this heaviness on your shoulders that weighed as much as a car, sinking you until you drowned. You were afraid that you wouldn’t be able to overcome this feeling.

You stood to the side of the stage with shaky hands, holding your script tight. People moved all around you, rushing to make sure everything was in place backstage for the on stage, completely ignoring you. It was as if you were invisible, so much so that someone actually bumped into you and didn’t even apologise. It made you feel quite insignificant and only boosted your mentality for not being able to do this.

You were at a competition, see. A poetry competition.

Harry had encouraged you, about a month ago now to be brave and enter yourself in for this competition. It was called ‘Prized Poetry’ and it was a huge thing in London, where poetry laureates such as Carol Ann Duffy and Simon Armitage have performed before - and now he was a judge too. You’d had to submit an entry form at first, explaining why you should be given the chance to enter the competition. Harry had spent hours going over it with you, perfecting to the every syllable. You’d gotten through, obviously with your talent, and made it to the first stage. Then the second stage, third, fourth and now fifth. The fifth and final stage.

Your previous poems were a mixture of long sad poems, haiku poems and even a short story just to see how well your talent for writing really was. You’d passed with flying colours every single time and you couldn’t have done it without Harry. He was there for every late night, with a cup of tea or a second opinion, you spent changing and tweaking your work. He was there with flowers after every single performance, after he’d spent the entire show watching you with awe. Every single time he’d cried. Every single time he’d kissed you with pride. Every single time he came. Not today, though.

Unfortunately, for you and for Harry, he was in New York doing some press for a jewellery brand that he was the new face of. He had called you last night, explaining that he didn’t know whether he’d be able to make it or not. He couldn’t face-time you though, because seeing the disappointment on your face would have killed him inside and he was selfish for that.

“Hello!” You excitedly shouted to him down the phone.

“Hi, baby.” Harry replied, his tone of voice sounding quite flat in comparison to yours.

“Uh oh. Someone’s sounding sad.”

“Yeah.” He chuckled, before breathing a deep sigh. You just knew he was stroking a stressed hand through his fluffy hair, with his eyebrows furrowed too and all you wanted to do was kiss them away.

“What’s up, sunshine?” You asked, hoping the little nickname would help him feel a bit more yellow.

“Y/N…” Well that wasn’t a good sign if he was calling you by your proper name, “I.. God I don’t know how to tell you this the right way…”

You knew. You had a feeling and you just knew. It had been a worry you’d had at the back of your mind ever since he got on the plane to leave for New York, but hoped that it wouldn’t ever become real. Unfortunately, that’s what it had come to.

“You can’t come tomorrow night, can you?” You asked quietly, your mood quite grey now. There was a little dark thunderstorm rolling in over your head and it would stay there until you could find some sunshine again - find some yellow.

“N-no. No I can’t.” Harry sighed heavily and it weighed upon your shoulders than probably his.

“O-okay.” You tried your best to not make him feel bad, because he was 4,000 miles away and you weren’t there to hug his cries away.

“I’m so sorry, baby. Truly. So sorry.”

“No it’s okay. It can’t be helped, you know?” You let out the slightest of chuckles to try and lighten the situation, but you felt so heavy and grey.

“But you’re going to be amazing. I just know it. We’ve practiced it so many times and your poem is just stunning, there’s no way they can’t like it.” Harry tried his attempt at cheering you up, knowing all the doubts that were creeping into your mind in that moment. He wished he could hug you, because then at least that would mean he was there with you and ready to take a seat in an audience that he was sure you were going to win the competition of.

“Thank you.” You smiled, only slightly.

“I love you, Y/N.” Harry reminded you, almost terrified that this would somehow make you un-love him and leave him. You could never. Would never.

“And I love you, H.” You meant it.

“Get some rest now, okay? I’ll call you before your performance tomorrow, alright?”

He hadn’t called.

Your eyes started to tear up at the thought of him not being here. You couldn’t do this without him. You didn’t know how to.

Anxiety is something that you’ve suffered with for a very long time, but managed to overcome facing different situation. It always felt like the world was about to end, for you. It was an unstoppable feeling, unless Harry was there. Harry had this aura around him that brought you peace and calm. He made you feel easy and powerful. He was the reason that you’d gotten this far in the competition, because you would always know he was in the crowd watching you - feeding you his power and making you brave.

Your lungs ached at the thought of you being powerless today. There was no being brave today. No Harry, that was the worst factor of all. Not only did you need him here to remind you that you were alright, but you wanted him to be here. This was such a big thing for you to be doing and you’d love for someone to watch and be proud of you. Your parents were never going to be those people and you were lucky that you had Harry instead. Only, now it felt like you didn’t.

“Y/N, you’re on next.” A man with a clipboard and a headset spoke to you and brought you away from your shaking thoughts.

“O-oh okay.” Your eyes were wide with terror and your hands shook a little more. You had taken some pills to calm you down, before, but your anxiety was that bad that you felt at any moment your knees would crumble underneath you and be victorious on showing how powerless you were without Harry - without someone to support you and be proud of you.

“Our next talent is a woman who has inspired us all with her writing. Her scores have been the best in the competition so far, but will she able to actually hold up that trophy by the end of the night?” No, you thought, as the man on stage introduced you to the audience of 500 and the judges.

He walked off and gave you the thumbs up to walk on. Your legs needed a bit of persuading to actually move, but once you were anyone could tell that they were shaking nerves. Your body language gave away that you were completely out of your element and that this wasn’t easy for you. The spotlight on the stage blinded you and you found it hard to actually see anyone in the audience, let alone the judging panel.

There was a podium where you would stand and perform your piece, so you walked over to it, tripping slightly on the step up. Bloody heels. You felt like everyone was laughing at you then, your head swarming with all kinds of whispers they would be chattering;

‘What is she doing up there when she can’t even walk without shaking?’ ‘Is she really worthy of all these high scores?’ ‘She looks nervous.’ ‘Why is she even here if she can’t stop her hands from shaking?’

One of the judges cleared their throat in the microphone before talking. “Miss L/N, you know the rules. No prompts or paper with poetry.”

His tone made you blush and tears creeped into your eyes. You were so stupid to have brought your poem with you. Your hands shook as you didn’t know what to do with it. You felt so exposed up here, as if people in the back row could hear your heart about to beat, beat, beat out of your chest. Your throat felt dry and you just didn’t know what to do.

You wanted Harry.

“S-sorry.” You stuttered out, sounding so unsure of yourself which probably didn’t look good in a speaking competition for your poetry.

“Someone please come take Miss L/Ns paper please?” The same judge asked and then you saw someone run over to your side to collect the paper.

“Be brave.”

You turned as the touch of the persons hand kissed against your skin, electrifying your body like a tree on Christmas day.

He was here. Harry was here.

The tears in your eyes grew, but Harry quickly shook his head as if to tell you ‘not now’. So you breathed a deep breathe and smiled so brightly at him. He was here. He was in front of you, or more accurately to the side of the stage. God knows what stunt he pulled to get to be there, but you didn’t care. You swore you’d never loved someone more than in this moment. He ran off quickly, taking your paper with you and sticking his thumbs up at you as he fled.

You got to admire him for a brief moment. He was in a black non-fitted suit, with a white wife-beater shirt on underneath and then his old-school vans. He was in his travelling outfit. He loved being comfortable, but keeping a decent sense of fashion, when he was travelling cross countries. Your favourite pair of shoes were vans too so he often said that he wore them because they reminded him of you.

“Are we ready now, Miss L/N?” A judge asked, bringing your attention back to the audience when Harry nodded your head determinedly at you. You faced the audience, rolling back your shoulders and clenching then unclenching your fists. You felt lighter. Freer. You could, well… you could do this.

“Yes, I am.” You spoke much more confidently than before. You had to squint a little, but you could tell that the judges were smiling at you. Your heart felt a little more full at that. There was a sense of pride for you, even before you began.

“Okay, when you’re ready. Introduce yourself and your poem, but please wait before reciting the actual piece.” A woman judge explained. You could tell the audience has settled into their seats more, watching you with beady eyes.

Be brave.

“Thank you.” You nodded to the judges, before beginning. “Good evening all! My name is Y/N L/N and the piece of writing I have chosen to share with you tonight is called ‘Anxiety’. I wanted to choose this piece because it means something of significance to me. I have suffered with anxiety for some time and yet it feels new and stronger every time that I experience it. It’s that shadow that follows your everywhere, even when there’s light. The topic that our short written poetry had to be based on, for those of you whom had forgotten or had just woken up from a nap through the other acts,” that earned you a laugh you weren’t expecting and it made you a little less nervous, so you started to be more expressive in yourself, “was called ‘you’. For such a short word, there’s so much to unpack, especially about myself. So I decided to unpack how I feel about my anxiety, because although it may look a very small part of me from the outside it’s such a huge part of me on the inside and I would like to share that with you tonight. I would like for you to see my shadows.”

The audience clapped, even though they weren’t really supposed to. You briefly looked to the side and saw that Harry was shaking his head in awe of you. Probably because you hadn’t told him that you had changed what poem you were going to perform. The ones you’d worked on with him had been about courage and strength, but you didn’t seem to click with it even after weeks of practice. This, however, you’d written from heart, last night only, whilst having an panic attack when reality hit you that Harry wouldn’t be with you.

“Thank you Miss L/N. Give us a moment please.” They went quiet and you stopped to breathe for a moment, taking in the air of the theatre. It smelt like old wooden staircases and freshly painted walls. It felt snug and comforting. “And when you’re ready, the stage is all yours.”

Be brave.

You gave one glance at Harry and a simple smile was all you needed.

“The world is ending, I can feel it. The crushing weight of the world is burying me deeper, caging me until I can no longer breathe. The walls are closing in, faster and faster. With everyday i’m away from you, they close faster. I’m suffocating, but you still hear me breathing. I’m terrified, but you calm me. I’m alone, but you still hold my hand. Trapped, oh what an isolated feeling but you, i’ll always have you and suddenly the world keeps on spinning.”

It took a moment, but when the roars of the audience applauded you couldn’t help but freeze. You cried. Your heart sung happy songs. You nodded your head too thank them all silently, because you couldn’t quite get the words out anymore. You’d shown your shadows and people stood to remind you that you weren’t alone in having them.

You turned to see Harry and he was clapping just like everyone else, whistling through the use of his fingers - which, you’d be lying if it didn’t turn you on slightly. He mouthed ‘I love you’ and you nodded your head whilst the tears dripped from your eyes, letting him know that you knew and you very much felt the same way.

The other poets came and joined you on stage, seeing as you were the last act. There were only 3 of you and you’d watched the other two perform. They had been wonderful. One of them had performed a piece about love and the other about their children; both so sweet and loving, so passionate and comforting. So different to yours. Yours had been heavy and moving, exposing and sad, but it was you and that’s what you’d been asked to be.

“What a brilliant show, aye?” The presented walked on stage and let the audience clap together momentarily.

You stood the far right of the stage, further away from Harry who was in the left-wing. The other two poets, Henry and Silvia, were standing in line with you - Henry in the middle. He had spoken about his children and Silvia about love. They both congratulated you as they walked onstage and you smiled and thanked both of them. You couldn’t stop thinking about how desperate you were to see Harry again though. That one simple touch had left you burning for more ever since and you’d be dammed if you didn’t have him near you again within the next 10 minutes.

“Let’s hear from what the judges thought. Tracey?”

“Absolutely beautiful, all of you. Your introductions were great and your poems even better. I think for me, Henry, your poem stood our the most to me just because I have children also so I can relate to a lot of the moments and feelings you touched upon. Very well done.” Tracey spoke and you smiled because she was right, Henry’s piece had been so moving and simple. It was spectacular and you’re sure his kids would be proud of him.

“Yvonne?” The presenter turned to the next judge.

“Well the competition has seriously shown us some talent like no other this year. I don’t think we’ve ever had this higher standard before, so pat on the back to all of you. Um, Henry, wonderful poem and really heart-warming. Silvia, your poem was awe-inspiring and i’m so glad you had the chance to share that with us. And Y/N, thank you for what you did tonight.” You smiled and nodded a thanks back to Yvonne, her words meaning a lot more than a few adjectives of praise.

“Finally, Simon?”

“Couldn’t agree with the other two more. I think that you’re all credits to yourselves and you should be proud of yourselves. One person touched my heart a little more than the others this evening and I silently thank them for that. Some seriously stunning performances and yeah, i’m excited to see what the future holds for them.” Simon answered, looking at Silvia as he spoke, so it was clear that it was her work that had touched his heart.

It made you grow very nervous, however.

Each other the judges had said their praise, but had praised the other two poets slightly more so than you. It gave you a unnerving pit-belly feeling that you hadn’t done enough - that maybe you should’ve stuck to your other poem with Harry. Why had you changed it last minute? You gulped back the lump in your throat and looked down at your feet, not feeling brave enough to look up at the audience or judges anymore. You’d done your part and it didn’t feel like it was enough. You just hoped that you hadn’t let Harry down too badly.

“And now I think we should announce our winner.” The presenter announced, making the audience ooh and aah. You started to fiddle with your fingers, picking the skin around your nails to keep you grounded. You closed your eyes and kept your head down, not wanting anyone to see your disappointment when your name comes last in the ranks when you should really be happy for the other two. You’d put your heart on the line tonight, but maybe that wasn’t enough. Maybe you had to be something more - something special.

Someone walked on with the award trophies and envelopes. The third place holder got a gift voucher to Waterstones of £50 and a small bronze trophy. The second place holder got a gift voucher to Waterstones of £100, a stationary items to help continue to write and a silver trophy. The third place holder got a gold trophy, obviously, but the other prize was far more worthy; a definite publication of your own poetry book via Simon Armitage’s publication company - something you’d dreamt of forever.

“In third place…” You closed your eyes a little tighter and whispered internally to yourself ‘be brave’ until you would actually believe yourself. You couldn’t get that far though because, “Silvia Fallon.”

What? You hadn’t come last? What? Your eyes opened and you turned to watch Silvia accept her award and applaud her with the congratulations she deserved. Wow, you couldn’t believe that you weren’t holding a bronze trophy and a waterstones gift card right now. Silver it was then!

“In second place…” You rubbed your hands on your dress, de-clamming them before you’d have to walk over to the presenter to shake his hand and double kiss his cheeks. As you smiled out the audience, “Henry Lucas.”

What.

Your heart had stopped beating. You weren’t walking over to collect silver. No. You were cupping your hand over your mouth, shaking like a leaf in the wind and knees about to crumble beneath you as you realised what this all meant. What you’d achieved.

“So that means our winner of Prized Poetry 2021 is Y/N L/N!” You sank down to the floor, crouching over yourself as you started to cry and cry.

Was this really happening?

Warm hands brought you out of your shell, cupping the side of your head to bring your attention to them. To him.

“You won, baby. You fucking won!” He smiled so brightly at you that you could’ve sworn he was just a visual dream. You were shaking in his hold and still crying, his eyes red too over your deserved success.

“I-I won…” You spoke in shakily disbelief.

“I’m not kissing you until you go collect your prize, petal, so please go and chuffing collect your prize!” He laughed, and helped you onto your feet. You were a little shaky, because all eyes were on you once again, but you deserved this. You hadn’t expected this at all so you were also just a bit taken aback by this whole experience. The journey had been far greater than anything before it.

Harry’s hand left yours and you walked across the stage to shake hands with the presenter and the judges, who had now come up on stage to congratulate you all. You thanked each one of them, twice, and held up your trophy in the air as you walked back across stage.

As soon as you met Harry he didn’t hesitate to bring you in for that promised kiss. You didn’t care about the call last night anymore. You didn’t care about him not being here today. He was here now and that was more than enough to seal your heart with forgiveness. It was moments like this, his lips enveloping yours, when you were brought to the realisation of how yellow your world was. There was no grey with him. He, just like you were to him, was your yellow and that was a privilege to be. Your Harry made you feel so much more than a shadow. He made you feel brave. Protected. Calm.

Loved.

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achillieus · 3 years

Text

let you down. (sebastian stan x reader)

summary: it's a universal truth but it's worth repeating; feelings eat us raw. or just an actor and a girl falling in and out of love over the course of three months.

(this was inspired by sebastian's visit to greece for his movie, monday, and is based on that, so that means in the story we’re in 2018. also i have this posted on ao3 too but while i’m writing the last parts i thought of posting it here too)

pairing: sebastian stan x reader

warnings: alcohol, heavy sexual references, implied depression, infidelity, this one is very angsty, it's kinda slowburn because i love the yearning, this part is not my favorite but it also is

part: 4/6

(other parts) (masterlist)

When you both go to sleep that night,

What you say to yourselves:

It is just a kiss.

The truth:

Sebastian can’t forget your scent and your taste. And it’s everywhere. And it’s everything. He’s not sure if he can breathe anymore. He tries to put himself together but he loses; he lets a moan escape his quivering lips, as he comes hard, alone in bed, your lips a picture in his head.

You can’t forget his warmth. He’s long gone but his heat is making your body sweat. And it’s becoming annoyingly addictive. You try to fall into a dreamless sleep but you can’t. You grab onto your sheets, trying to shallow down his name when you have two fingers inside you.

It’s a study in remorse and guilt.

“Please breath,” you whisper in front of the bathroom mirror. “Breath in. And out.”

It’s been two days and one night since the doomed night. You have not heard of him ever since.

Your heart beats with the power of war tambours. You want to find him and tell him you’re sorry. You want to promise you don’t mean to cause any trouble to him. You want to let him know you don’t belong in his life. He will pass through you like cars pass red lights.

Violently.

“I’ll find him tomorrow.” You lie down and rest. “I’ll tell him everything tomorrow.”

Argyris can see the disorder reflecting in Sebastian’s eyes the second they pass in front of your door.

The Romanian drops his eyes on the floor and quickens his pace. Argyris is smart enough to not comment on it; at least not when they have an all night shooting in a while. He doesn’t want to distress him.

He doesn’t have a choice though; because Sebastian stops as soon as they reach the third floor.

“I’ve made such a mess.” His voice can’t give away how nauseous he feels.

Argyris exhales loudly. This is precisely what he was afraid of. This is precisely what he had warn you both about.

“It’s not the right time” he starts quietly “We have a lot to do.”

Sebastian sighs.

He feels as though there will never be a right time for the two of you.

You can’t sleep. The sky is dark behind your closed windows. It’s almost four in the morning and everything around you is quiet; until it’s not anymore.

You can hear people laughing as they enter the building and you can hear the lady from the first floor yelling at them.

Suddenly you’re thankful for the terrible insulation as the whole place grows alive at the sound of noise. You’ve grown tired of silence.

You slowly open your door. You want to hear more.

Argyris is trying to apologize when the old woman starts calling them uncivil. You want to laugh.

But then you hear steps coming closer and, in a breath, he’s standing right in front of you.

“Did we wake you up?”

The others are still arguing in the lobby.

No, I couldn’t sleep, too busy thinking of your lips.

“Yes. All the noise scared me.”

He comes closer. He tries to clear his head of images he creates at night. Images with you.

“I’m sorry.” He says and it sounds like his chest feels lighter afterwards “I’m sorry for the noise.”

You nod, a blank expression across your face.

“We went for a few drinks after the shooting and people got drunk and dragged themselves hear to continue the party. It’s not Argyris’ fault.”

You turn your head away from him. You don’t dare to look at him for a long time.

“I can bet that.” Your words feel heavy inside your mouth. “He has never caused any trouble before you came.” Your words feel bitter inside your mouth.

He laughs. He calls your name. It makes your throat dry.

“You can see that I’m not the one who’s drunk and arguing downstairs.”

The space between you two starts to dwindle.

“You should go.” You whisper. “There is no reason for you to be here.”

He says nothing for a while. He just stays there looking at you with an unreadable expression. His breathing hits your face. It feels cold.

“Right.” He answers, building his guard back up, posture fixed and face blank.

And then with one last glance he leaves you alone.

You wake up not much later, the sun meeting the horizon.

You clean the kitchen and you water your flowers. You decide to take a walk. You haven’t done that in a very long time.

Not a lot of people are awake at that time. The streets are almost empty. You find that comforting. You pass the familiar streets and there’s a heady feeling in the air; the mouthwatering smell of fresh bread in the small bakery, the sound of a dog barking and an old man carrying around a barrel organ.

Lately you seem to forget how much beauty there’s around. Lately you seem think true beauty is only a pair of light eyes and the sound of a foreign accent. You feel selfish; your ardor for him has blinded you and everything seems too little.

You feel stupid.

And then you blink and it’s Sunday and you remember Argyris telling you they’re leaving on Monday to shoot scenes in some islands. You can’t decide if you want them to leave sooner or never at all.

The latter makes you forget to breath.

You take a shower. But water never washes tears completely away. They stick to your body and your pores like leeches.

The white towel feels rugged against your skin and you think of throwing it in the trash can. You don’t.

Instead, you get dressed and make a sandwich for dinner.

A knock at your door stops you.

You’ve missed that sound.

You close your eyes.

You feel as if you’re being thrown back in time, to the first time he came at your doorstep.

There’s another knock.

Maybe it’s not him. You take a step. Even if it’s him, it’s a dead end. You place your fingers around the handle, without making any motion to unlock.

You stand there for some seconds. There’s no more knocking. You smile at yourself. You were always good at hiding behind closed doors. Maybe not good enough; because now you can hear him talk.

“I’m glad you’re not here” his voice makes it sound like he’s aching “Or that you’re here and don’t want to open up.”

Your hand swifts around the knob.

“I’m glad, because if I was looking at you right now I would-”

He stops when he meets your gaze. You’re close now. And it’s hard not to wrap your arms around him, but you force yourself to just look straight ahead and do nothing.

“You would what?” You voice sounds like a mourning song.

You watch as he runs his fingers through his hair and lets a quite sigh.

“I don’t know.”

“You’re lying.”

He laughs and it’s dry and sharp. And then he grabs you by the shoulder and you’re both inside your apartment and he closes the door with a shudder.

His eyes are swollen and for a moment you’re scared. Only for a moment.

“Yes I am.” He still has his arm around your shoulder. “What do you want me to say? That I would do everything? That I would kiss even your eyelids?”

You’re shivering. You feel almost sick.

“I can’t say any of those things.” He swallows hard around the lump in his throat.

You look at him starry-eyed.

“You can.” You’re stepping closer to him. “You can say everything. There’s no one here. Just us.”

“That’s not enough.” He says, with a look that promises all the sorrow and the suffering in the universe.

Your face splits.

“Then why did you come?”

He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath.

“We’re leaving tomorrow.”

I know, you almost say. But he talks again, before you can say anything.

“I want you to come with us.”

You feel like choking on the world’s most expensive rosé. You start coughing.

He caresses your forehead, tucking some hair behind your ears.

“No, Sebastian, this is bad.”

His fingers can feel a tear dripping down your eyes and your cheeks and your lips. Slowly. He’s not certain if it’s yours or his.

“I know.” He blinks. “But we don’t have much time. And I want to be around you. We can try to be friends again.”

There's a feeling in your stomach that makes you want to throw up when he says the word friends. It makes your mouth taste sour. It's pathetic.

“I don’t know if I can do that.” You murmur.

And then his eyes pierce through yours.

And you think of that evening that you saw his eyes for the very first time. And you think how this version of events had never crossed your mind back then. Ever.

This was not supposed to happen.

You were not supposed to grow close to him.

And he was not supposed to show you the stars and dry out your salty tears.

And you were not supposed to kiss him.

And now he was not supposed to go.

“Please, promise me you’ll try to be friends with me.” He breaths into your lungs. “Promise me you’ll come.”

You smile softly. It reminds him of something sweet, like honey and cherries.

“I can try.”

Sebastian can feel his heart almost stop; like a clock that’s reminding him you do not have much time left together. This month will come and go and so will he.

And his heart knows.

So, he presses his forehead against yours and mumbles a sincere thank you.

It sounds poetic. But it’s more of a war declaration.

When you agreed to go with him on the trip, Sebastian fell into a world of bliss and anticipation. He had been worried you wouldn’t want to see him again after everything that occurred between you two. He had spent nights sleepless, just lying awake and trying to fathom things.

But not tonight. Tonight, he’s packing his bags and dreaming of the sea and you.

The sea. And you. Those are the things he loves most right now.

Love. It’s funny because sometimes Sebastian thinks he could have fallen in love with you, if only time allowed. But he has less than two months. He has calculated everything.

( 60 days )

( 59 nights )

He’ll probably never see you again afterwards.

He knows you were never meant to be.

He sighs.

The screen of his phone lights up and he’s certain it’s his girlfriend, because it’s 3am in Greece. Who else could it be? And that gives him an ache because he loves his girlfriend. But not right now.

He’s wrong though, it’s a message from you.

I’m sorry. I can’t come with you tomorrow. I’m sorry.

His heart falls.

It’s funny because sometimes Sebastian thinks he could have fallen in love with you, if only you allowed. Sometimes he thinks it’s better this way.

You read your message again and again. Your eyes scan each world like your whole life depends on them. You can’t go to the trip. It’d be like you set yourself up only to fall apart some time later. And you’d have no excuse. You don’t even know why you had said yes to him in the first place.

Perhaps because that’s what Sebastian wanted to hear and you love Sebastian. It’s very painful and all kinds of fucked up, but you do.

At first you try to close your eyes to it. You think, whatever it is between you, it’s not love. It must be something else.

But it’s not.

You always knew that.

Your heart splits at the realization.

Everyone is drinking and dancing. They finished shooting last night and Argyris decided to throw a small beach party. Once upon a time, Sebastian would have been thrilled about it. He always loved partying.

But those were the old days. All he can think about now, is a girl with braided hair and nails painted dark blue. That’s how you looked the last time he saw you.

It’s been a week since that time. It’s been a week and he’s getting desperate. And his curly haired co-star is moving her body too close for his liking. He’s trying to flee.

The woman smiles at him. He knows she probably asks for more than he can give. She smiles at him and she looks beautiful, so beautiful. He almost thinks it’s unfair and selfish of him to ignore such a beautiful smile.

But the woman’s hair is curly and not in a braid. And her nails are painted red instead of dark blue.

You don’t see him for one more week. You want to send him a message. Call him. Do something. You do nothing but check his Instagram profile almost every hour. It’s sort of becomes a habit.

At your room the walls whisper and scream about that night you fell asleep next to each other. You try not to listen.

Some nights you can picture him smiling at you and his smile feels far too heavy. Some nights you try to imagine a version of him that could grow old with you.

You can’t.

It’s 8:10 am. The first time you meet again. You call the elevator on your floor and when the door opens, he’s there. You didn’t even know he was back, before now. You almost get out and take the stairs instead. You hide yourself at the corner as far from him as possible. Sebastian notices for the first time how small you look.

“When did you come back?” Your mouth opens before you can stop it.

He turns to look at you. You can see he has a little tan. It looks great on him. Dammit.

“Last night.”

Your hands are shaking. You’ve missed his voice. Dammit.

Two more floors. You can make it.

You wait for him to turn his back at you again, but he doesn’t.

“Not coming with me,” his breathing breaks and his throat dries out instantly and he feels on the verge of collapsing “It didn’t help.”

It takes you a while to get what he’s saying. Why he’s saying it.

The elevator stops.

“Did it help you?” No, of course not.

“Sebastian, please.”

You try to say something more but his voice stops you.

“Do you know any quiet places?”

You nod.

“Take me.” You shiver. “Please.”

The door opens and he grabs your hand.

You think you’ll never really understand Sebastian. He’s been so many people with you. A pretty face on screen, a stranger and then a friend. And then a lover? Maybe.

Something intimate, anyway.

Intimate, in the way pain is.

You’re at a small park just behind your house.

His hair has grown the last few days and he’s playing with a strand. You watch him and he watches back. He puts one hand in the pocket of his jeans and another at your cheek.

You had almost forgotten how it feels. Soft and rugged simultaneously. Almost like a transfusion, it revives you.

“We’ve screwed up, haven’t we?” His voice sounds like an old song.

You think you can hear your bones straining under the weight of his words.

“Yes, I guess we have.” You try to smile at him. Your lips don’t move upwards though. They can’t. You can feel your eyes get wet.

Sebastian can’t bear looking at you like that. He puts his hand behind your neck and brings you closer.

At that moment, by falling into his arms, you lost the battle.

Your body is cold, worn down by all the sleepless nights. You’re not sure he knows exactly what you feel at this moment. Neither do you.

“I’m sorry I didn’t come to the trip.”

“I understand.” He nods.

“Sebastian,” His breath hitches when you call his name. “I don’t know if I want to see you again.”

Lies.

He blinks. You don’t.

His face looks like he’s about to growl. Then his features relax.

A tear falls down your cheek and he’s quick to swipe it away. His eyes soften.

“I know,” he says in a whisper “We just keep hurting each other.”

You laugh bitterly. “When did I hurt you, Sebastian?” You push his hands away from your body. He doesn’t fight it.

He lets out a shaky breath.

“We spent the night together and you left without even saying something.” Your eyes are wide and rabid. “You keep acting like we’re something special and you have a girlfriend back home. And when I kissed you,” you pause for a second, remembering everything. “You kissed me back.”

You’re talking a little too loud. An old man passing by, turns to look your way. Your cheeks flash red.

“I wanted you to kiss me.” Your heart clenches. “I’m so sorry. I needed you to kiss me.”

He takes your hands in his. He looks at you half like he wants to apologize, half like he wants to kiss you again. Maybe, he does.

“Every time I see you, I want you to kiss me.”

“Don’t say that.”

“It’s the truth.” Surprisingly his voice is steady and his hands grab yours tighter than before.

“It can’t be the truth.” You exhale roughly. “It will ruin everything.”

He looks at you for a while and then he does the most human thing possible; he wraps his arms around you. You hide your face at the crook of his neck.

Your breath hits his skin and it’s warm and tender.

“Not us.” He whispers in your hair. “It will save us.”

At that moment, Sebastian lost every battle.

Things you felt when Sebastian kissed you later that evening:

Divinity and tragedy. The feeling of going over the speed limit. The despair in his mouth. The booming in his heart. Fear for the distant future. His arms creating a shelter from the rest of the world. Affection. And affection. And affection.

Thing Sebastian felt when he kissed you later that evening:

Your heartache in his hands. The faded cherry lip balm in your lips. Your nails digging into his skin. A raw satisfaction. Madness and power. Your warmth making his heart beat fast. Freedom. And love, so much love.

It was never his intention to cheat on his girlfriend. Sebastian is not that kind of man. But then again, everyone is.

You try not to think about that while his mouth devours the skin above your collarbones. It makes your pores sweat and your core beat. Time spins by as you both lay on your bed.

It feels like he’s a sweet lover. Dewy eyes and warm fingertips. He makes love to you at sunset, when dreams start to form and cotton sheets stick to his skin. Yearning gets the best of him, his movements become sharper, his bones turn to steel.

You don’t mind. That’s what you need right now. Burning lips at the curve of your hips. You can almost taste it; the silage of his after shave. Eucalyptus. That’s what he tastes like.

He’s drawing archways in your skin. He touches the part between your breasts. Softly and gently at first. And then digging his teeth. He wonders if you want this as much as he does. It’s nearly tearing him apart. His ribs and his lungs are full of eagerness and you.

You, you, you.

To him, there’s nothing to do but kiss every inch of your body.

He knows there’ll be a cacophony soon. You’re both equipped with love that has an expiration date. But he wants to beat time. He wants to feel all of this for as long possible. For a minute, he becomes greedy. He wishes everyone would die, so that he and you could live in this world alone. But together.

It takes great strength to shake this thought out of his head.

“Please,” You say between heavy breaths and he's getting worried he's going to tell you he loves you. “Please I need you Seb.”

You've never called him that before. He can't decide if he likes that or the fact that you need him, more. He complies.

You feel him inside you as he's stroking between your thighs. You close your eyes, his heated sounds soothing everything. Your lips are red, from you biting at them.

He looks at you, with his hungry face and he finds everything about you so delicate and so beautiful.

He can keep going forever.

You're grateful.

Lying naked in your bed, you’re watching him struggle to keep his fevered blue eyes open. His hands still tangled in your hair.

The room smells of sweat and eucalyptus and everything in the universe feels softer.

“I think I love you.” He says, and as he falls asleep, he smiles. “I’ll tell you when I’m sure.”

“Please don’t.” That’s the most selfless you’ll ever be in your life.

i really appreciate feedback, it motivates me tons and also tell me if you’d like to be tagged :)

tagging: @lharrietg @awkward117 @dannaloureen @broccoligf @cutestfangirlvevo @caitdaniels @arymb @buckybarnesishot310 @roguesthetic @itsaliceheree @sara-1705 @dorothea-hwldr @freshfreakoaftrash @drinkfantasy @christinamcdonnell @partypoison00

#sebastian stan #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan x you #sebastian stan imagine #sebastian stan angst #bucky barnes imagine #monday the movie #bucky barnes x reader #letyoudown

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writer-and-artist27 · 3 years

Text

Lack of Smoke

Inspired by my finishing the Prison Tower event that Dantes debuted in for real (purchased through Rare Prisms, though...). Robin Hood was in my front-lines team the entire time I went through the event, and this is my take on some of the emotions from it.

@panyum, I was thinking of you when I wrote this. Take it as you will? Also, @partialdignity's energy was hard to resist even when working off fatigue from the past week of returning 6-month-old patient cancellation cases.

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

"...Why do you let her call you that?"

Robin didn't move from his seat at one of the break room tables, merely chewing on a new mint leaf while opening one eye in the speaker's direction. "Call me what?"

"'Big Robin', Archer," Avenger said with a scowl, yellow eyes flashing with discontent and... and envy? Could he even call the look on the Count of Monte Cristo's face that? Then again, with the wisps of darkness exuding off of Avenger's figure, it could mean anything. "You are only one of many Robin Hoods. That name shouldn't mean much to you."

Back in the Moon Cell, maybe.

Robin took the stalk of mint out of his mouth, wagging it at the Count with his own face. "Point," he said quietly, shaking his head, "but it's different when she says it." A wry smile formed on his lips as he turned back towards the table he was originally facing, drumming a few fingers against the wood. "Kinda hard to refuse a bright smile like hers."

Avenger let out a "Kuhah!" noise at that, crossing his arms and taking a pack of cigarettes out from under his cloak. "You've become soft."

"And you," Robin said with a frown and another pointed stalk of mint, "need to make sure you don't smoke that around the little sparrow. Lung cancer's nothing to laugh at."

Avenger still took one of the darn sticks out of the box to put into his mouth, raising an eyebrow at Robin's pointed mint stalk the entire time he did so. "This coming from the man who once smoked himself?"

"Hard to resist," Robin shrugged, absently speaking around the mint still in his mouth, "but there's a little sparrow around now. Have to make sure she doesn't fall from the sky, especially after she saw worth in a dusty charlatan like me."

Avenger closed his eyes, taking out his lighter to flick a flame up into existence. His leaning against the nearby wall seemed to solidify his opinion on things. "Fools think alike, it seems."

"So says the guy who knows how to make Vietnamese coffee now, Dantes?"

Avenger gave Robin a pointed look with one visible red eye, and Robin smirked back.

"Look, Count, you're not fooling anybody. Whether it's my little sparrow or your little flower, we can't deny the Master at Chaldea is something else. Just get with the program and start looking past the prison tower of hell, will ya? I'm sure your little flower will find some way to bring hope back. She gave me my name. Who says she can't do the same for you?"

#passing days #short story #fate grand order #edmond dantes #robin hood #mastersona vy #writing #written on a whim #fate series #one of the few stories where vy never shows up #influence goes places #the count of monte cristo (fgo)

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datsrightbby · 3 years

Text

The Lost Boys x Reader (Fairy)

Warning: Cursing (maybe?)

The Lost Boys x Reader who is a Fairy -

The way I’m gonna write this is sorta inspired by the winx club (also did anyone else watch that show as a kid omg iconic).

So you look just like everyone else apart from you, of course, have magical powers.

And you have wings !! But no one else can see them apart from fairies, and magical creatures that are similar.

All fairies are born into a magical bond with one of the four elements of nature (i.e water, earth, fire, and air) so all your powers are based on the element you’re born into.

You use your gifts to help people, or fight off bad energy and beings e.g

The thing about fairies is they naturally stand out, whether it be with their looks or just their aura, something about them sticks out from the crowd.

That’s how the boys noticed you.

Immediately you knew what they were. An instinct of yours.

Personally I don’t believe vampires and fairies converse very often, if ever, but the boys were never people of convention that’s for sure.

Honestly they didn’t even know fairies existed ?? That would have been their last guess ?? And you had to tell them. *insert shocked reaction meme*.

Anyhow, they either straight up bothered you or tried to get your attention by other means. Which was Paul and Marko being loud and/or all of them revving their engines.

They tried to casually run into you in places and insert themselves into your friend group, or try start up a conversation with you.

But, you knew what they were and wanted to keep your distance.

Maybe though , just maybe, it was a strange twist of fate that caused you to meet them. Perhaps you were meant to be with them.

So y’all start hanging out and you had, wrongfully, assumed they knew what you were.

You had lit a candle with your little finger as if it were your personal lighter, or froze their water as they went to drink it, something like that.

(Bold of me to assume any of them drink water but whatever).

Cue the moment you gotta tell them.

They be ✨shook✨

David thought you were joking and started cackling, only to realise you were dead serious.

They’d be accepting of you no matter what, but that doesn’t make it any less shocking.

(Like one day you could sprout horns and that would be hella shocking, but they would accept you just the way you are bby).

Dwayne read up on fairies and began treating you like a delicate flower because he read that they were sensitive creatures and assumed it applied to all of you.

You could fly with them !!

I mean sure, they couldn’t see your wings, but that didn’t make it any less cool.

Marko drew a sketch of what he thought they might look like.

Probably got it tattooed.

Paul and you having mid air races over who can fly faster ?? uhhh yes.

The fact you help people and fight off bad vibes...then in the background there’s just four feral vampires doting on you.

So, i don’t believe fairies as being immortal creatures...they might wanna turn you.

Imagine a vampire/fairy hybrid what would that even look like..??

Dope af.

Idk man the idea of four vampires and a fairy is funny to me.

#the lost boys #the lost boys x reader #the lost boys movie #paul the lost boys #dwayne the lost boys #david the lost boys #marko the lost boys #Shakira Writes

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songbirdsingingthings · 3 years

Text

Chapter One: The Social Season Begins

DISCLAIMER: I do not own any of these characters, they belong to Kohei Horikoshi

A/N: This is my first multiple chapter fic! I was heavily inspired by Netflix’s Bridgerton, but I do not intend to stick to its script. The show and the fic are meant to be seat during the early 19th century (1810 -1830) so a lot of things like technology will not be present. Also, this is a quirkless au so no one is going to posses any powers. I plan for this fic to be between 8 and 12 chapters, but we’ll see as we go along. I hope you all enjoy <3!

Next Chapter ~ Series Masterlist ~ Main Masterlist

Word Count: 1.9K

When social season rolled around, all bets were off. The most vicious of claws and fangs were disguised by beautiful dresses and headpieces, followed by the batting of eyelashes and the oh so precarious movements of feathered fans. It happened every year - hundreds of Musutafu’s young ladies braved the social scene in the pursuit of a husband either of their own status or higher. This year was no exception, in fact, it was shaping up to be one of the most influential seasons to date. Several of the most eligible and prestigious lords, viscounts, and barons would be attending the numerous balls that were in the works. While it was expected of the young women to pair up and find a love-match, such relationships always proved to be half-successful. Of course they would be married and well taken care of, but too often did you hear of wives maintaining an empty manor whilst their husbands were off gallivanting at their clubs, or more likely, at brothels. This proved to be your biggest fear - you wanted the beautiful relationship your parents had. The one where your father doted on your mother, bringing her flowers on random days because he happened to see them and think of her. One where he dutifully raised their children together, never once undermining her abilities due to her gender. And one where, right up until her very last breath, he held her hand and whispered sweet nothings to her. It was a sorrowful day when your mother died, but your father carried on in her place, raising you and your elder brother in the most proper and loving way he could. This encouraged you to go forth with your head held high. You would find the one you were meant to be with and not just be a part of a silly little love-match.

“Oh Lady Yagi, you look absolutely wonderful.” With a deep breath you met your eyes in the mirror in front of you and let out a little gasp. The dress you were wearing was utterly gorgeous. It was a very pale blue, even lighter than the powder blue that covered your bedroom walls, and had the most beautiful little detailed flowers scattered across it. There weren’t enough to mistake you with a garden, but there were plenty there to compare you to the most gorgeous dogwood. The necklace that lay across your neck was much daintier than what others tended to wear but you adored it - after all, it was your mother’s. And resting softly on your head was a matching tiara with both diamonds and light blue sapphires.

“My, Mei, you have simply outdone yourself.” You whisper. You couldn’t keep your eyes off of your reflection, the twinkles and glimmers of the jewels doing wonders to accentuate your features.

“Lady Yagi, how you make me swoon,” Mei exclaims, feigning a faint. You giggle at her and swat her gently with your fan. The two of you make small talk as she adds finishing details to your look; smoothing out hairs here and there, clipping in your diamond earrings, and slipping your silk gloves onto your hands.

“Y/N, my sister, we must be heading off!” A call echoed from just outside your room, coming from the main hall downstairs.

“And not a moment too soon, my nerves have been getting the best of me.” You say, a wide smile covering your face. You descended upon the grand staircase to see both your father and your elder brother waiting for you.

“My word! Y/N, my darling, you look divine!” Your father exclaimed, walking forward to place a ghost kiss to your cheek, not daring to mess up Mei’s handiwork. You smiled at your father and looked at your brother.

“Izuku, you look quite dashing.” You tell him, earning a grin from his freckled face. “Hoping to see Lady Uraraka this evening?” A blush quickly covered his face.

“Well, yes, she had told me she would be attending earlier when we took a promenade around- hold on, this is your special evening we need to be discussing.” Izuku says, switching the topic onto you. Rolling your eyes playfully, you took his arm as the three of you made your way into the horse-drawn carriage waiting for you in front of your house. The three of you entered, your father and brother careful of your long dress, and then you were off.

“So my dear, are you excited? Nervous?” Your father asks. You smile and inspect your gloved hands.

“Both. I just wish…” you trail off. Your father leans down to meet your gaze with slight concern in his eyes.

“Wish what?” He says, urging you to continue. A small sigh escapes your mouth as you look back up.

“Father, you have done wonderfully to raise both Izuku and I without Mother here. I think both of us agree on that fact.” You begin. Izuku nods and offers the both of you a grin. “I just wish that she was here. To tell me of what she was feeling when she debuted, how she calmed the churning in her stomach.” You confess, your hands now clenched. You were met with a sad smile from your father.

“How I wish for that as well, my dear. She would always tell me how excited she was for you to embark on your own marital journey. And, while I in no means shared the same experience as she did, I can tell you of what I was feeling.” He says. You look up, curiosity flashing in your eyes.

“Please,” you say, prompting him to tell you. He laughs and leans back on the leather seated cushion.

“Well I, like your brother, had an easy time finding the women we would want to spend the rest of our lives with.” Your father’s sentence earned a blush from Izuku, but no words of contention. I suppose we will be welcoming Lady Uraraka to our family soon, you thought smiling to yourself. “I was a nervous wreck, though, when my eyes found your mother. She was absolutely divine - like the gods had graced the earth specifically with her. She was quick to forgive my nerves and the slight stutter in my voice as I introduced myself to her, and things just seemed to run its own course from there.” You could see the wistful gaze in your father’s eyes as he thought of your mother. “Inko was a most gracious woman, both in mind and beauty. And those qualities, my dear, were passed on to you.” His hand came to cradle your cheek, brushing away the tears that started to well in your eyes. “But this is no time to be in despair, no, it is time to be quite the opposite than that. It’s time for you to find love.”

The carriage stopped rather abruptly, but you didn’t care. You gathered the train of your dress in your hand and were practically buzzing by the time the footmen opened the door. Your father stepped out first followed by Izuku, the latter of which offered a hand to you as you stepped out. The venue was absolutely gorgeous, and it was no surprise considering the man hosting it. Lord Takami was a rather benevolent and expressive man and those traits bled right into his events. With lanterns dotted all over the front steps and the ballroom, candles that seemed to float in midair, and the most magnificent smelling floral arrangements you had ever seen, you understood perfectly - this was what it must’ve felt like for your mother. Out of the corner of your eye, a pretty brunette started to drift towards you and your family, a bashful smile set across her face. Before you had a chance to speak, Izuku stepped in front of you and your father.

“Lady Uraraka, what a pleasure to see you here.” Your brother says, his hand extending to her gloved one.

“It’s truly all mine, My Lord.” She responds as a shy smile flickers across her face. Izuku spares you and your father a nod and a grin before he leads Lady Uraraka towards the middle of the floor, the two melting into the dance being performed seamlessly.

“Those two make such a divine and true love-match, don’t you agree Father?” You gush. Just seeing your brother so hopelessly in love was enough to make your heart flutter.

“I do, my dear,” he chuckles upon seeing your expression, “but we are not here to solely admire them. There will be plenty of time to do that at their wedding,” your father quips, earning a laugh from you. “Let’s get you introduced and dancing, hmm?” Your evening was full of re-introducing yourself to mutual acquaintances and establishing new ones in other young men. You made sure to only dance with those you felt could be a possible match for you, but as time went on you started to lose hope. It’s not that the men were horrid by any means - well, with the exception of one Lord Mineta - but nothing about them seemed to stir your heart. You currently found yourself in a most dull conversation with Baron Ojirou.

“Forgive me, Lord Ojirou, I must get some air. All of this dancing has made me quite light-headed,” you say, excusing yourself.

“Oh! Would you like me to accompany you, Lady Yagi?” He asks nicely. You raise your hand in denial but give him a light smile.

“There is no need. I wouldn’t want to impose on your evening, I will just be a few moments.” You say, slipping away to the outdoor gardens. It was dark, but the luminescence coming from inside Lord Takami’s manor provided enough light so that you could see. You made your way over to the stone railings that bordered the rose garden and held onto it with both of your gloved hands, heaving a sigh. “My goodness…” you whisper, heaving a sigh. The night air nipped a bit at your skin but you paid no mind to it. What does catch your attention, though, was the light footsteps that were approaching you from behind. “Lord Ojirou, as I said before, there is no need-” You begin, but stop immediately when you are met with someone else. He was much different than the man you had just been recently talking to - physically more reserved, taller, and much much handsomer. Even with the scar covering the left side of his face, his presence was enough to make a woman swoon. “Forgive me.” you manage, curtsying a bit.

“Oh, no, it is I who should be apologizing. Pardon my interruption on your… outing.” He says awkwardly. This earns a slight giggle from you.

“This was merely a simple break from the clamor inside.” you say, relaxing a bit more. Before the man could say another word, you see Izuku catch your eye from the steps.

“Y/N! There you are, Father and I have been looking everywhere- Shouto?” Your brother says shocked, his eyes meeting the man across from you.

“Izuku?” He responds, bewilderment flickering across his face.

“My word, it’s been a while! How as your father, the Duke of Endeavor, faring these days?”

“D-Duke?” You stutter out, in awe of the man’s title. Izuku catches your confusion and gives you a smile.

“Forgive me for not introducing you! Todoroki, this is me dear sister, Y/N.” The man, now known to you as Shouto Todoroki, gave you a quick nod. “Y/N, this is Shouto Todoroki. The son of the Duke.”

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thebadchoicemachine · 3 years

Text

Yall want some MYCT Magnus Archive Headcanons I may or may not draw? (Pt 1?)

I will try to include individual trigger warnings at the beginning of each explanation as much as I can think of. They may seem a little overboard but better safe than sorry. Remember, TMA is a horror podcast.

(ALSO, EVERYTHING HERE IS /RP. EVEN WHEN I’M NOT TALKING ABOUT A ROLEPLAY VIDEO PLEASE KNOW I’M MAKING UP A CHARACTER BASED OFF THEIR CHANNEL AND AM NOT ACTUALLY ACCUSING THEM OF BEING A SERVANT TO A MALEVOLENT FEAR ENTITY.)

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Philza

1. An End Avatar (TW, Numb/Apathetic Mindset)

He’s a reaper. An immortal. You only live once but life’s become, not meaningless, more like desaturated. He doesn’t care in a cheery “oh well” way. He’s pretty chill about it. He’s extremely chill about it. He is disturbingly chill about it. At first it seems great, he’s just a nice chill guy! No evil schemes or vicious plots. Just spending time with him seems to calm your nerves. And then you spend more time and you begin to understand why, things aren’t as important as you make them seem. You catastrophize a lot. Then a catastrophe happens and you’re not... upset. Why... why would you be? It doesn’t matter. It really doesn’t. It won’t in a hundred years and it doesn’t now. would end the same anyways. And then he starts to be less and less relatable. Why is he so happy? Why does he bother to go meet people and smile and eat or laugh or frown. You can’t belive you ever complained that he was so mild about everything, any amount is more than is worth. Why bother? Why... bother...

2. A Vast Avatar (TW, Heights?)

He just fucking tosses people into the sky instead of being upset with them. Do anything he doesn’t like? SWOOSH. It’s to the point it’s not even a malicious thing, it’s just routine. He gets up, goes to the store, picks up some groceries, sends a person who cut in line to a void of dusk with swirling black clouds where you fall so long you can’t tell if you’re flying up or down or left or right, maybe gets some mints, goes home, puts groceries away, does the dishes, etc.

(the rest of the cast below the cut)

Tubbo

1. A Corruption Avatar (TW, Body Horror Surrounding Lungs, Swarming Insects, Implied Murder.)

He has bees in his lungs and he loves them very much. If he ever gets something stuck in his throat or has water go down the wrong pipe he will FEAK OUT. He often has to cough up honey (and sometimes bees). It’s... a process. He just sits over a bucket or jar and hacks his little heart out. He sometimes saves the honey and offers it to people. Amazingly, his friends never take him up on the offer. Unsuspecting people who don’t know the.. supernatural origin of the honey find they have some... unpleasant side effects. (Bees. The side effect is bees. Specifically ones trying to fly down their throat.) Oh well, being a part of a hive isn’t for everyone. The really unfortunate ones make good fertilizer for his flowers, though! His lungs are literally a hive. If you tried to listen to his heartbeat you’d hear buzzing. He will sometimes hold flowers over his open mouth to let the bees get some easy pollon. He doesn’t usually actively seek out “prey” but when he is trying to feed on that good old fear he’ll act super sweet, too sweet, and then open his mouth and let the bees fly out. It’s very creepy but to him it’s just funny. (Also, all of the bees have names and he has a funeral for every single one that get’s killed.)

Quackity

1. A Spiral Avatar

I- I mean have you seen a single one of his videos?

2. A Stranger Avatar (TW, Unreality Depersonalization )

He mocks people as their own reflection, hopping from pond to mirror to camera to scream at them (sometimes literally) that they do not know who they are. It starts off subtle (Wasn’t your hair a bit longer? Weren’t your eyes a shade lighter? Did you always have that birthmark?”) but grows and changes until it gets to the point you stand in front of a mirror and every time you blink you look completely different. You feel your face, you look at your hands, but it’s no help. They change too fast. Your pictures change too, every single post on all your social media looks like different people posted it- wait... did you always have this platform? You don’t remember ever using it before. You have so many posts... none of them match up. You throw your phone away, noticing you never had the case on it. You turn to real photos for help but they are none. Of course not. You feel like just giving up as you shuffle through photo after photo, you don’t know what you really look like, so what? But then something catches your eye. A photo of you in the 5th grade concert. You don’t remember going to that school. You’ve never played an instrument, have you? Something screams yes and no at the same time. You throw the box down and grab your phone. You need to call someone. You pace throughout a house you recognize less and less searching for clues, reminders, as the phone rings. Your best friend answers. You throw the phone down again. You don’t have a best friend. You’ve never really been one for friends. No, that’s not true, you had a few really good ones but you’ve grown apart. No, that’s not true, you only have one real friend, your boyfriend. No, you don’t have a boyfriend, just a close friend. No, you have many friends just none that are close enough for this bullshit. You stop. No. No you don’t like swearing, do you? Do you? Who are you? Who are you? Your reflection laughs. It’s eating popcorn and making you do a stupid dance. What a bitch.

3. A Flesh Avatar (TW, Body Horror Surrounding Faces and Skin)

You’re a piece of meat, he’s a piece of meat, everyone’s meat. Like Chicken Nuggets.He’ll steal your face right off it’s skull and dance with one in each hand. He’ll put words in your mouth like you’re a puppet with bones. He’ll make you say the dumbest shit because it’s funny. Even when it’s obviously not YOU talking.

Technoblade

1. A Hunt Avatar (TW, Stalking/Genocide)

Many people have suggested a slaughter avatar but I don’t see it. Yeah, he kills (blood for the blood god and all that) but I don’t see it. The Slaughter is about the moment. The unplanned snap. The sudden outbursts. I don’t see that in techno. You know what I DO see that also involves quite a bit of bloodlust? The chase. The planning, the target, the unstoppable dread and panic that overtakes his victims once they realize who is after them. The power. Calculated genocide of victim after victim. The HUNT. My two pain points of evidence: His potato war videos, that time he took over the world, and his stalking speech to Quackity. Go watch an animatic of Technoblade chasing down Quackity and tell me he is not a Hunt Avatar.

Wilbur

1. A Desolation Avatar (TW, Abuse/Torture)

Everything he touches burns and hurts. Sometimes it’s on purpose, sometimes on accident, but either way he’s caught up in enjoying the drama. I’m gonna be honest, my main inspiration was the Villainbur aesthetic but the more I thought about it the more it made sense. Look at nearly any of his 100 player videos; designed to create maximum pain for hs enjoyment. Even the Dream SMP where he was mostly a good guy and more tragic than anything else fits. Maybe that Villain Arc was his first dabble as an avatar of destruction and pain. Even making his own father kill him could have been along the lines of “how can I milk as much despair out of this as possible.”

TommyInnit

1. A Slaughter Avatar (TW, Straight Up Murder)

Now HERE is a character right up that slaughter’s alley. No thoughts, not plans, just unbridled passion and rage and violence. He just stabs people whenever he feels like it (which is often) sometimes just with sticks. Like a rabid raccoon just jumps straight at people’s faces out of nowhere, always starting shit and stoking fires to make people angry at each other.

2. A Buried Avatar (TW, small tight spaces)

Tunnels and caves and sticks and spots. He’ll burry you under a mountain, he’ll lock you in a tree. Dirt man. His usual MO is trapping people under an avalanche of stones and rocks and rubble. Basically just lava casting your bones. Everything he makes is ugly but not just in a ”that’s literally a pile of rocks in the middle of the road” way in a bit of an indescribable “looking at that makes me feel like I’m breathing in straight gravel.”

Bonus: Ranboo as a Dark Avatar/Victim. He is not a willing avatar like Jude or Helen, he’s more along the lines of Oliver and Jon.

#dream smp au #dsmp tma au

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yandere-society · 5 years

Text

The Dulcie Inn | M

Synopsis: The artist runs with the whispers of the wind. In this case, your wind was your fiance; Kim Taehyung. A getaway weekend with him, off to the countryside where life is mellow. What you weren’t expecting was the dangerous storm lurking in the shadows and a quiet inn in the middle of nowhere, run by a man with doe eyes and his own storm running through his mind.

Pairing: Jungkook x Fem!Reader; Fem!Reader x Taehyung

Genre: Inspired by Psycho (1960)

Word Count: 12K

Admin: @moonpeachhy and @nomnomsik

A/N: [UNEDITED] Please bear with us! We will edit it completely tomorrow as we had to meet the deadline today. Nevertheless, we hope you enjoy.

Trigger warnings: Yandere, descriptions of physical violence, smut, unprotected sex, horror, mentally disturbed character, and unstable relationships. Please read with caution.

⊱ ────── {⋅. ✯ .⋅} ────── ⊰

There was a storm brewing.

Uphill near the mountains, unusually muscular-looking clouds huddled into a dark grey inflation. It was sort of alluring, resembling a renaissance painting you’ve long forgotten the name of. Yet as it approached near, it set an unease in your bones. The type that crawls deep within your gut until you could barely make out its presence. You knew it was there though, from the shaky breath you let out as if it was tightly gripping your lungs. An exhale that fogged up your side of the car window.

“You alright there?”

"Hmm?” You turn towards the concerned tone of your fiance, his mellow eyes fixed on the unrestricted road as he steadied the steering wheel.

“Tired?” He asks, facing you for a few seconds to give you a faint smile.

“A bit.” You reply nonchalantly, balancing the back of your head on the window. Which let you to feel all the slight bumps the tires traveled over on the gravel beneath you, your body now vaguely vibrating at a similar speed. “We should stop soon.”

“I can beat the storm.” The man chuckles, his baritone warming you from the inside out. More than your knitted sweater which made you break out a tired grin, enjoying the way his laughter was so softly carried over to your ears. “We’ll be in Goldleaf soon, just rest your eyes for a bit.”

Chestnut hair fell just above his brows, the strands still messily sticking out from your fingers gliding through them this morning. A golden hue traveled across his irises, making them seem lighter than they originally were. There was a freckle on the tip of his nose that you loved to kiss, sitting proudly on the top layer of his skin. His breaths were firm, pink lips marginally stretched on each side. For a moment you just adored his divinity, your heartbeat in rhythm with his. Did he know of the beauty he embellished?

“So you’re a magician? I just close my eyes and when I open them, we’ll magically be in the kingdom that’s 80 miles away?”

“I’m whatever you want me to be baby.” He winked at you before cheesily grinning at the way your face scrunched up in disgust.

“Dork,” You muttered, hiding your amusement by pursing your lips.

“Your dork,” He corrected as a matter of fact, “Your dork who knows a shortcut.”

This new information made you raise your brows in acknowledgment, “You’re rather handy. See, this is why I’m marrying you.”

He scoffs, “Yes, of course, your majesty, I’m honored. Now please get some sleep.”

You knew he would pout if you told him you couldn’t possibly fall asleep in this cramped moving vehicle, so you just nodded watching him take a turn to this ‘shortcut’ he spoke of. The silver band on his ring finger shimmered in the diluted sunlight. It felt like it was just yesterday that he asked you out for coffee in his muscle shirt and ripped jeans. Even though he stood like a tough guy, you were smitten by the rosy splotches on his defined cheekbones. After a few awkward first dates and shyly stolen kisses, you two became your campus’ favorite couple.

Fast forward a few years, and here you sat. Engaged to the tough guy in the driver’s seat. You both had been engaged for 4 months, waiting for the right time to tie that knot. At the time of the engagement, through happiness and tears; you found yourself saying yes to his sudden proposal. But since then, there had been some differences...some...misunderstandings. He had been quite eager to settle down, have kids and a 9 to 5 job, while you were a bit more hesitant towards that whole ordeal.

It’s not that you didn’t want to marry him or you didn’t want a family. However, the desire for freedom - of old school independence swimming in your heart has held you back. Blame the young artist’s soul within you, there was just so much you wanted to see. Some would say you were looking for diamonds in an empty bin, trying to be the Thomas Chatterton of your time. Maybe. Maybe you just didn’t want to end up like Zelda Fitzgerald, a passively remarkable woman confined to her husband’s identity for a millennium.

You weren’t sure of what you wanted, yourself. Did you want to fly with the winds or did you want a Gatsby type of man to drown you in flower petals? Your father said it was because you were a free spirit. An early dove, not yet done with demonstrating her charm to the rest of the world. The remainder of your family members had been more upfront with their disapproval of what they easily named your ‘fickleness.’

Taehyung said he would wait for you though, and for you, that was all that mattered. Never, would you find the heart to tell him you agreed to marry him on impulse, yet you dread that he already knew of your hidden words. He knew you better than anyone else after all.

So when he suggested going on a trip to clear your head, you jumped at the chance. Eager to cross the country with the man you were supposed to spend eternity with. Summer had just ended, your eyes saunter over all the barely bleeding leaves on the deciduous trees as your car enters a woody area. There was a part of your soul that told you this journey would be special. You would learn a lot from this vacation - about Taehyung, about yourself, and about the spread out land.

The mystery of what’s to come inspires the artist.

As your gaze once again wanders off into the skies, the semblance of the chaotic swirls and whiffs of cotton above resonate with you.

“The Tempest.” You whisper out loud

“Hmm? What was that?” Taehyung eyes your fatigued figure

“I just remembered the painting those clouds reminded me of.”

Taehyung breaks out into a small laugh at that, “Will you ever stop thinking about art?” He jokes, which in return causes you to giggle as well.

“No.” He says suddenly, more to himself as his laughter dies down too abruptly. “No, I don’t think you will.”

Your smile drops as you glance at him. The hidden meaning underneath his words was flatly laid out for both of you. He continues to drive in the same posture - the same breath - but his face has now hardened a tad. It takes everything within you to not question him, his statement painting you mildly red. Instead, you blink your gaze back out the window, into the slowly dimming sunlit horizon.

Hoping the storm never arrives.

⊱ ────── {⋅. ✯ .⋅} ────── ⊰

So he didn’t beat the storm.

He didn’t beat the storm as the sky grew dark, clouds gray and winds picking up speed. The calm breeze that had refreshingly blew past moments ago was now replaced with a ferocity that was prepared to bulldoze through its path. You looked worriedly out the car window, Taehyung's eyes too, flickering at the sky multiple times. Droplets of rain descended down from the sky, pounding down on the windshield and obscuring your vision which quickly prompted Taehyung to flick on the wipers. It was a wet hellfire, your heart sank as your car continued almost blindly down the road.

Then came the rumbling of thunder, booming down from above, causing you to flinch while goosebumps picked up on your skin. While you shuddered in your seat belt, the raindrops continued their descent, landing on the dashboard with a sharp intensity that echoed throughout the inside of your car. It felt like someone was pelting the roof of your car with bullets.

Even with the highest setting of the windshield wipers, the rain slowly began to completely engulf the visibility of the road.

“Shit,” Taehyung muttered, driving sightlessly with the darkness of the sky plunging upon you both. It was when you were looking out your side of the window for the smallest ounce of clarity that a large object came into view despite the restrictions in your line of sight. A brown, wooden exterior glowing through all the gloom of the storm outside. You spotted it from the corner of your eye, immediately extending a finger at the building.

“Taehyung, there!”

His head snapped over, and without missing a beat he spun the wheel making a sharp right-hand turn as you held onto your seatbelt. The slush of puddles echoed from outside as the car’s wheels pierced through the wet road and approached the building. Once you slowed the vehicle, you both silently stared at the structure. A burst of lightning cut through the dim air, and that’s when you were able to recognize the board standing in front of the property though the shadows of the storm were surrounding it.

‘The Dulcie Inn’

There was an inn in such a place? The road appeared to have been completely abandoned for years, trees were way too tall and the shrubberies were dramatically overgrown. In return, the inn seemed rather decent. Spacious and well-groomed. Though it was strange that there would be a place to stay on a practically dead road.

“I don’t…” Taehyung started, parking the car on the side of the road as the roaring rain crashed onto the windows. “I’ve never heard of this place before.”

“We should head inside.” You state turning to look at Taehyung

“I don’t know...” He replies cautiously

“Would you rather stay out here?” You proposed dryly, crossing your arms. “Seems rather pleasant.”

“I just don’t trust this place, ___. Why don’t we just stay here for tonig-” Before Taehyung could finish his sentence, a bright flash of lightning split the sky - only to be followed by a loud boom of thunder that made him jump. On the other hand, with a push of the car door, you quickly stepped into the pouring rain, breaking out into a sprint as you ran for cover under the protection of the inn.

“Goddamn it… ___!” Taehyung called, unbuckling his seat belt and chasing after you. The rain immediately pounded on him and his eardrums, temporarily disabling his sense of direction. His clothes stuck to his skin as he finally made it under the inn’s canopy, hair dripping with small droplets of rain and shoes bringing mud into the welcome mat.

You stood underneath the canopy next to him, dusting off the raindrops as he did the same, observing him in slight scrutiny. After all, it was his fault you both were stuck here. As you both fixed yourselves, you lightly touch the door handle of the inn’s entrance before looking back up at Tae.

“Ready, Mr. Magician?”

He smiles at you shyly, a bit embarrassed by the whole situation causing you to smile in return as you push the decrepit wooden door open. It creeks as it slides, an immediate warmth blows past you both, the inn being rather inviting compared to the frigid mess outside. An unreadable exchange passes between you and your fiance. Taehyung’s smile vanishes once you turn around to enter the building, and he turns his face back to examine the thunderstorm behind him.

There was a sunken feeling in his chest at this whole situation.

As you take your first nervous step inside, you’re gaze shifts to the tall ceiling and dim sunset lights. The loud dilemma outsides hushes into a quieter lull of winds and splatters of rain as the warm, dry inn takes you refuge. A gasp escapes your lips as you marvel at the structure, frozen 3 steps from the door. It was like you’ve wandered into one of Hitchcock’s flicks, truly dazzled at the sight before you.

The entrance was larger than you expected, the wood of the walls were dressed in a light brown. Red carpet embellished the foyer, while a large chandelier swung above - the pieces of glass hanging on like shapley teardrops - simply bedazzling. There was a staircase with similar dark-wood properties, towering in front of you and leading into what you guessed were the inner rooms.

There was a room to the left of the staircase, which you could only peek at from your spot. It looked to be a seating room, filled with maroon sofa chairs. Like a lounge. Art decorated the inn, nouveau portraits hung from the wall like a place of worship. And right beside you stood the reception, an olive-colored timber separating you and the empty area behind the reception.

“Can I help you?”

Startled, you flinch as you suddenly hear a masculine voice, looking up to see a young man standing in the middle of the stairs. When did he get there?

He was tall, skinny but sturdy-looking with pitch-black hair covering his forehead. His skin was pale compared to his dark button-up shirt and trousers. As you gaze up at him, your worry for your surroundings seems to disappear until all you were focused on were his youthful, boyish features. The stranger was quite handsome, you weren’t expecting it. You felt yourself blushing as he studied you closely. For a while, you just stood there, getting lost in his intense black orbs until his eyes shift towards something behind you. Why did he look away? Confusion fills you as you tilt your head, still staring at him until Taehyung’s figure passes you by and you smell his Armani cologne waking you out of your trance. You forgot about Taehyung.

“Umm, hi. We sort of got caught in the rain and...we were wondering if we could stay here until the storm passes.”

“...You want to book a room?”

“Well, n-”

“Yes.” You interrupt Taehyung, who looks back at you in question

But you ignore him as the young man’s eyes flicker back to you, making you hold your breath. There was something profound in his gaze. A deep abyss of mystery and wonder, just like in the works of Sandro Botticelli. He slowly walks down the stairs, and you carefully follow his physique until he’s situated behind the reception. Working quietly, he reaches underneath into a compartment and takes out an old registry book.

While he’s busy flipping through the pages, Taehyung comes up close to you. Blocking your line of sight.

“Why do you want to stay?” He whispers, “The storm will pass quickly and Goldleaf’s like 20 miles away. We can ju-”

“Taehyung, the storm’s not gonna stop anytime soon. We should stay the night. Besides, we’re stuck here because of your decisions.”

As you finish your sentence, he drops his eyes. Regret fills you as you see the guilt plastered on his face, and he slumps his shoulders. You’re about to apologize, bringing your hand up to touch his arm when-

“You should stay for the weekend. I’ve read up on this storm, it’s going to last for a while.”

Surprised at the man’s interruption, you and Taehyung look at him, then back at each other.

“A-alright then,” you say cautiously, watching Taehyung’s reaction, “we’ll stay for the weekend.”

It would delay your trip for a bit, but it was better than dying out in the chaos outside. The stranger extends an antique pen towards you, and you walk up to the reception, taking it from his warm fingers. His slight tremor at your touch goes unnoticed by you as you stare at the page of the registry. It seemed quite ancient along with everything else in this place. As quickly as you could, you filled out your and your fiance’s info. You could feel the man’s eyes piercing you as your hand hovered over the signature line.

Quietly sighing, you turn your face to Taehyung, who was standing a few steps behind you just shifting on his feet. You meet his orbs and raise your brows. Even though you knew this was the safest thing to do as you could hear the roar of thunder outside, you still didn’t want to do anything that would make Taehyung uncomfortable. He stares at you for a few seconds, before grinning and shrugging his shoulders. It makes you break out into a smile, as you turn around and immediately sign the papers.

You raise your head back to the stranger, who’s still staring at you.

“Here.” You say, holding out his pen to return to him. He slowly moves his face to the pen, taking it back from you and spinning the registry in his direction. Once he’s looked over everything, he closes the journal, moving to grab one of the 10 keys off the hooks on the wooden wall in the background.

There was a faint hesitation in his step before he picked up the key for the first cabin. Turning back around, he smiled shyly before handing you the key.

You return his smile, taking the key and spinning on your heel towards your fiance.

“Our luggage is stuck in the car.” Taehyung reminds you

“Right, I forgot about that.”

“There are…” The man begins and making you turn to him again before he clears his throat, “There are some robes in the room. You both are welcomed to settle into those until the rain slows.”

“Oh, that works.” You state cheerily, facing Taehyung and giggling. There was a suffocating atmosphere between the two men and you were trying to lighten the mood.

Taehyung huffs in amusement, before ruffling your damp hair. “Alright, love. Let’s go settle in.”

You laugh before taking his arm and leading him by and up the stairs. Before you’re able to make it up all the way, something stops you in your tracks.

“Enjoy your stay.”

It was him, smiling up at you from his position by the registry.

“Thank you. We will.” You reply before traveling up the rest of the way.

You miss the scowl on Taehyung’s face at the interactions between you and the stranger.

⊱ ────── {⋅. ✯ .⋅} ────── ⊰

“That kid’s weird.”

“Hmm?” You say as you set down your purse down onto one of the spare tables, sighing and stretching your arms above your head with Taehyung trailing you while taking off his coat.

“That kid downstairs, the one with the really dark eyes. He’s weird.”

“Oh, you noticed his eyes as well?”

“What do you mean ‘as well?’ What have you been noticing?” Taehyung pouts as you laugh, and step up to him to wrap your arms around his shoulders

“I’m an artist dear, I can’t help but notice the beauty in people.” You respond as your fiance holds you securely by the waist, “But trust me, you’re the most beautiful of them all.”

Taehyung snorts at your cheesy line and you peck him on the lips. “And he’s not weird, he’s just...different.”

“Psh, different...” Tae rolls his eyes, “He wouldn’t stop staring at you and blushing. It was so annoying.”

“Aww, you’re so cute when you’re jealous.” You giggle as he sputters to deny his obvious envy

“Whatever,” Taehyung grumbles when you continue giggling, walking away from you to take off his wristwatch and placing it in your purse. “Just be careful of him.”

You ignore his words as you sit on the edge of the bed, taking in the sights of your spacious cabin. The walls were softly tanned, a pastel tawny color reflecting the marigold light fixtures on the ceiling. On the far right wall, was the vintage dresser in a straw color which you’re guessing contained the robes the young man below had mentioned, with small white flowers painted among the doors. There were two same-colored nightstands, one on each side of the queen-sized bed and the comforter was eggshell white.

Dumping his keys onto the table as well, Taehyung walks past you who’s silently contemplating the harmony of the colors in your room like an artist usually does, only to march into the bathroom.

“I’m going to head for a quick rinse,” Taehyung called from the bathroom, his voice echoing off the walls. Suddenly, a mischievous thought crossed his mind. His head poked out from the bathroom, a bright smile plastered on his face as his shirt already seemed to be discarded and on the floor, most of the skin of his chest hidden behind the solid wall. “Want to join me, darling?”

“Maybe next time, Taehyung. I’ll just shower after you.” You smiled, always finding his advances humorous and very him. He pouted cutely, only to slip back in and shut the door softly. As you sat there, you listened for a bit until you heard the water turn on, hitting the tub, as well as the rustle of the shower curtains.

You chuckle, glad that he busied himself with something rather than being the worrywart he usually was. Now that you were alone, you wanted to take a better look around the inn. It was surreal, vintage and antique while standing with the modern times like a time capsule. Whoever decorated the place had such a marvelous eye for art. The mystery of the inn only added to your excitement. What stories lie here? You wonder. What stories could satisfy the curious young artist’s heart?

While Taehyung was occupied, you slipped out of your room, preferring to take a stroll through the inn, perhaps find inspiration for your next piece. While you walked down the lit hallways, you couldn’t help but notice the paintings that hung on the walls, appreciating each stroke on the canvas. Your feet were carpeted by the rugs that were sewed together with delicate patterns and unique colors that further captivated you, prompting you to continue your exploration down another hall.

The inn was beautifully decorated, the wood accents bringing together the homeliness of the entire structure if it wasn’t for the silence. You could hear every creak of the steps, your feet padding the wood and your own breath. Yet as you continued, you noticed how clean and polished the inn was, from the spotless walls and decorations that lacked the usual buildup of dust from neglect.

Perhaps you were too enthralled with your surroundings, that you didn’t notice the figure that was steadily approaching you. When you finally directed your attention back in front of you, there was a small collision of your chest to another body. Your head zipped up, only to find yourself in an entirely different room, with much more space and filled with soft couches and sitting chairs. The one you peeked at before.

“Oh- I’m sorry.” You blabbered, your hands extending out in front of you as the figure steadied your balance.

It was the stranger, who was softly smiling down at you.

“I’m the one who should be sorry, I shouldn’t have snuck up on you like that.” He says, holding onto the small of your back

A moment passes by as you stare at him, his pupils hypnotic and glassy. You both were almost pressed together in each other’s arms until the rumble of thunder broke you out of your reverie.

“Oops.” You say, pushing away from him and facing the floor in embarrassment. That’s when you remember something, “Um- I’m sorry, because of the whole mess earlier I didn’t manage to get your name.”

“Oh, It’s all right.” He lets out a small laugh, “My name is Jungkook.”

Jungkook, you sound out in your head.

“Nice to meet you Jungkook, my name is ___, and my fiance upstairs is Taehyung.” You extend your hand with a polite grin. In return, Jungkook stares at your hand for a bit, making you stand there with outstretched fingers awkwardly, before taking it in his.

You proceed to shake his hand and take note of how warm he was. It sent a shiver down your spine. He just observes your hand, even when you loosen your grip. For a second his own grip tightens until he lets you go and his arm falls back to his side. Strange, you think as he gazes back up at you with a small smile. Maybe Taehyung was right.

“Nice to meet you too. Please sit, I was just putting out some tea.” He points to a place behind you, to one of the longer sofas. Once you take a seat, you notice how soft and cushy the cushions of the sofa are, almost like you could melt in them. Jungkook clatters around on the table in front of your seat with a porcelain tea set. He holds up the teapot, pouring the tea into one of the small cotton white teacups. Then he handed the cup to you on a small plate.

“It’s Jasmine.” He smiles gently

“Thank you.” You say, taking the plate into your hands. After blowing on the steaming liquid, you take a small sip. “Oh, this is wonderful!”

Jungkook blushes, sitting down on the sofa chair next to your long sofa. “It’s an easy recipe.”

“No, don’t be like that it’s great. I’m not the best cook myself so I would definitely ruin this in some type of way.” You compliment him to which he just fidgets in his seat, holding his shoulders up

“By the way, this set is gorgeous,” You say, eyeing the cup up close, “You have an eye for antique, Jungkook.”

“N-no that’s more, my mother. She decorated the place, not me.”

“Your mother? Wow, she must be an expert in art!”

“She is...my mother is...very talented.” There’s a distant gaze in his eyes in which you find yourself feeling pity.

“I’m sure she was a lovely woman.”

He takes a second before he looks directly at you, with a dark gaze that has you sitting up straight, “Was? My mother’s not dead.”

“Oh no, I am s-so sorry, I thought...it was my mista-”

You stop rambling once he begins to laugh, his eyes crinkle and nose scrunches and you feel like you're looking at a rabbit. Such a young, small rabbit.

“It’s alright, but no, my mother is alive. Though she’s...unwell. But-” He shifts to the right, reaching over to the small table on the side of your sofa. It seems like he grabbed something - a frame he pulls back up to him and stares at with a soft smile. “She used to be an actress!”

Jungkook extends the frame out to you and you put down your saucer to take it from his fingers. It was a black and white photo, one of a beautiful young woman who’s big starry eyes resembled Jungkook’s. She had pinned up black hair and a bright wide-lipped smile gracing her face. Standing in front of the curtains, she posed with one hand in the air. On her body was one of those strapless, bodycon dresses actresses wore in the 60s.

“She...She’s beautiful…” You say, stunned

Jungkook’s eyes seem to sparkle at your compliment, “She was really big in her time. I mean, she acted in so many movies...even Hitchcock wanted a film with her! Her face used to be plastered all over billboards and newspapers. They called her America’s doll!”

“That’s wonderful! Does she still act?”

And just like that, all his present excitement vanishes. He looks like he’s back in his introverted state and he shifts his eyes away from you to the teapot in the center of the coffee table.

“No, they don’t...they stopped hiring her a long time ago.”

“Oh no...what happened?”

“She just wasn’t enough anymore...not young enough compared to the other rookies.” He states without emotion

“That’s terrible.”

“But my mother was better than all of them, you know! She was! She had more talent in her fingernails than those wenches did in their entire bodies.”

You shift back at his aggressive tone as he stares at the ground in anger. It felt like he was reading from a script, like someone had been taught him to say these words.

“Yet the ‘experts’ at the studios told her she was crazy! They sabotaged her, forced her out of the industry and created her downfall with false news and gossip. Told people she was an alcoholic and abusive..why my mother couldn’t even hurt a fly...she… wasn’t mad.”

“I’m sure she wasn’t...I’m sorry Jungkook.”

He looks up at you in silence for a bit, as if realizing something. “We all go a little mad sometimes, I guess. I’m sorry for startling you.” And just like that, he was back to the boy he was moments ago. “What brings you out here anyway, miss?”

“Umm...well, me and Taehyung were going on a road trip. Our first stop was GoldLeaf.”

“That sounds exciting...I’ve never been on a trip before...actually I’ve never gone far from the inn?”

“What, never?” You say startled, to which he nods “Surely your mother has taken you on trips when you were a young boy?”

“Mother...says that the outside world is full of liars and thieves and people who want to hurt me. She’s never let me stray too far...it was for my own protection.”

You squint your eyes at him, “Jungkook, not everything out there is filled with monsters. There’s also beauty and art. If everyone thought that way, we couldn’t get anything done now could we?”

He sits there, stunned at your words. Before looking away and muttering “That’s true.”

Not wanting the boy to feel bad about anything you switch the topic. “Hey, what was your mother’s name by the way?”

“...Dulcie.”

“Wow! So this inn-”

“Yes, it was made for her... by one of her lovers. The one that’s my father I think. But I’m not really bothered by my mother’s…” He trails off, the room going quiet. “Ah, am I holding you up? Sorry, you must be tired.” Jungkook softly whispers, his hand overlapping yours.

“Thank you, Jungkook.” You smile, standing up and giving him a small wave. He blushes, giving him a sheepish smile and wishing you a good night.

⊱ ────── {⋅. ✯ .⋅} ────── ⊰

Your eyes listened to the creak of the stairs as you slowly dragged your feet back to your room, once again adoring the decorations hung around the inn. When you made it down the long hallway, you turned the doorknob to your room, walking in and softly shutting the door. You couldn’t hear the sound of water running anymore, so you figured Taehyung to have finished his shower.

“There you are.”

Taehyung smiled at you, a towel sloppily hanging over his head with water droplets falling onto the wooden floorboards. He stood by the nightstand, his chest was bare, but he had slipped on pants and was currently drying his hair out. Your face flushed as you slowly turned your head the other as you walked past him and took a seat on the inn bed.

“Thought you got lost for a second,” he smirked, his hand coming to his hip as he stood in the threshold of the bathroom. “I was starting to contemplate whether I should look for my fiance.”

“Oh, Taehyung…” You huffed, listening to the timbre of his laugh that echoed in the small room you shared. “I’m not that careless and oblivious.”

“Are you so sure about that?” He whispered, bending to your height as his hands wrapped around your waist. “So, do you know what I want right now?”

“You’re so shameless no matter where we go, Taehyung.” You smiled, placing your arms around his shoulders while your fingers began to play with his wet hair on the back of his head.

“Mm, but you love it.” A smug look slowly graced his face as he peppered small kisses on your cheek and travelled downward to your neck. You shivered, feeling his fingers play with the hem of your cream blouse as you inhaled in the smell of bubbly soap and aftershave that coated his body. As you bent your neck to give him more access, you giggled, his kisses beginning to tickle your skin. Taehyung’s mouth formed into a smile as you felt his lips curl up with each additional kiss that he softly placed.

You turned toward Taehyung as he took a spot beside you on the mattress, feeling his thumb run over your lips before whispering a gentle “I love you” and softly kissing your lips. His hands intertwined with yours as your mouths moved together before he moved away.

“I love you so much and…” Taehyung murmured the end as he went in for another kiss, feeling your hands wrap around the back of his neck. He giggled as your foreheads met each other, breaking the kiss off once again. “Let me help you take that off… Nono, don’t get up. You’ll be more comfortable if you let me do it, okay?”

“Can I take this off?” Taehyung whispered, giving more tugs on your blouse as you gave him a curt nod, your own fingers loosening up the green a-line skirt that hiked up to your knees. His delicate fingers unbuttoned your blouse as it slid off your shoulders, falling softly onto the blankets. Taehyung threw it over his head as it landed onto the wooden floors and dove straight for your mouth, passionately kissing you down. As your mouths moved together, your legs kicked your skirt with your panties to the side, falling over as well.

You slowly grew small underneath Taehyung’s intense stare, knowing your body never seemed to emulate the thousands of paintings of beautiful women with their clear and perfect skin, smooth and delicate. As you slowly began to hide your face in your hands, Taehyung’s hand came up to your wrist, pulling it away.

“Let me see you…” He breathlessly whispered, watching as you slowly reclined back until you hit the mattress, staring up at him.

“Then, let me see you too…” You pouted, pointing at the pants that still hung on his hips. Taehyung let out a chuckle as he raised his brow.

“Want me to take it off?” He asked, slipping his thumb under the waistband of his pants. You nodded eagerly not taking your eyes off his abdomen. “Then beg.”

Your eyes widen as you look at the cocky smirk Taehyung displayed. Reaching behind you, you grab a fluffy pillow before throwing it in his direction. He laughs, holding up his arms to protect himself. “Alright, alright.”

Quickly, he unfastens his pants, throwing his clothes that joined yours on the ground.

“Better?” He asks, crawling up to your figure

“Better.” You respond, kissing him as soon as his face was close enough.

A moan escaped from your mouth as Taehyung left a trail of kisses down your neck and between your breasts, while your hands went up to caress his brown strands of hair. His hands travelled downward, dipping between your legs as he began to gently rub your clit. Your body shuddered as a few whimpers fell from your lips, while Taehyung just smirked.

“Feels good? You’re so wet…” He grunted, sinking his fingers and dragging them along your walls.

“T-tae…” You moaned, feeling several fingers ease their way in. “I-if you keep doing that, I’m going to cum…” You whined, body desperate for more friction.

“Already, baby?” He chuckled, leaning down to capture your lips. “What about me, love?” He jokingly teased. “I can’t have you passed out from exhaustion already, now can I?”

You gulped loudly, feeling cold air as Taehyung’s fingers slipped out, dripping down onto the bedsheets as he smiled. Taehyung stared at you while you stared back, feeling your heart lump erratically. He shuffled closer, bringing his soaked fingers up to your lips as he watched you slowly part your mouth open, sucking and cleaning them up.

“You’re so beautiful…” He whispered as he pulled his fingers out with a plop from your mouth, saliva riding down your chin. There was barely enough time to collect yourself as Taehyung firmly pressed you down on the bed, hands grabbing each one of your parts and spreading them out. Your face flushed as you moaned in embarrassment, squeezing your eyes shut as Taehyung lined his member up to your entrance.

“Ready?”

“I’m ready…” You nodded. Taehyung smiled as he looked down at you, affection in his eyes as he slowly pushed in. He gauged every expression on your face, feeling himself grow more excited as you looked up at him with half-lidded eyes. Your body was feeling it and it was evident the way you panted and clawed at the blankets beneath you.

“Fuck…” He cursed, his knuckles turning white as he forced his body to hold back. He licked his lips, imagining the way he could just fuck you straight into the bed and listen to your cries of pleasure. But, his patience was rewarded as you beckoned him further with your hand to come closer. As the two of you kissed, Taehyung began to move, his hips snapping every once in a while, enjoying the way your body shuddered and flinched.

“Tae… Feels good…” You moaned underneath him, legs in the air as Taehyung held onto them. “I feel…c-cum-”

“Me too, love… Just hold on for a bit longer…” He soothed, bringing a hand down to caress your pink cheeks. As Taehyung dove back into you, your body screamed for release, twitching and spasming as you let out inaudible cries of pleasure. Taehyung groaned, feeling the way you tightened up, body tensing and becoming too much for him as he let his cum spill inside.

However, as you withered amongst the sheets in Taehyung’s embrace, every sigh that left your mouth and part of skin he fondled, was all seen by that eye. Every bit.

⊱ ────── {⋅. ✯ .⋅} ────── ⊰

…

...

“..Nnn?” You groaned, shuffling around in bed as Taehyung laid next to you, eyes softly closed with his breathing evenly going in and out. His hair fell over his eyes and his bare chest peeked out from underneath the blankets. Within your sleepy state, you smile at his arm hung over your hip as you were snuggled into his chest, feeling warmth and comfort in his hold.

Yet through the comfort, the more you regained conscious, the louder a rattling from inside the room resounded.

In an instant, you were awake, all previous trance vanishing the next second. As you concentrated on hearing the sound, it continued scarily insistent, as if someone suddenly became more urgent. All you could do was stare at Taehyung, with confused and wide eyes. You could hear it, the sound came from beyond the door, almost as if someone was shaking the doorknob. A shudder crept down your spine and down your legs as you cuddled further into your fiance underneath the blankets, body adjusting to his chest. He subconsciously reciprocated.

Someone was trying to break in.

And you had no idea of what to do.

“Taehyung…” You whispered, hoping the person behind the door wouldn’t hear you. This was an unfamiliar, dark and abandoned place, with a stranger who held an extra set of keys right down the stairs. Your fear grew with each second and you insistently started tapping Taehyung on the chest and shoulder, hoping he would wake up quicker. “Taehyung…!” You harshly hissed, only for the man to groan, tilting his head further back into his pillow.

“...L...ater…” He muttered, going right back into his dreamland and turning away from you. With a silent groan of irritation, you give up. Not having the courage to continue bothering him with the harsh scuffling of your entrance just a couple of feet away from you. It felt like the door would break down any second now. Your heart was plummeting rapidly in your chest as you huffed at your useless fiance, throwing the blanket away from your body as the soles of your feet met the cold wood flooring.

Darkness loomed throughout the entire room as you slowly stood up, hearing the swish of the trees outside and rain pouring against the windows. Harsh gusts of wind crashed against the glass as your eyes desperately tried to adjust to the little lighting in the dim room, hands coming down and catching yourself from bumping into your night table. You could see it from where you stood...the shaking of your door.

With each slow step towards the entrance, your skin crawled, fingers shaking as you reached for the doorknob. Your breathing was unsteady, body shuddering again as you shut your eyes, taking a deep breath when you stood right by the door. For a few seconds, you meditated, calming you high nerves with each breath. Until you grabbed the doorknob with determination. Time to find out who was lying behind the door.

When the door was fully open, you were greeted with silence.

...

In a daze you stand quietly, staring at nothing but the opposite wall of the hallway with your tight grip on the doorknob loosening. Hesitantly, you took a step away from the threshold and into the hallway of the inn.

You looked in the dark hallway, once right and then left.

Nothing. No one.

There was only pitch black on both sides. Like what you just experienced was a hallucination. As soon as you confirmed your suspicions were false, you quickly went back inside, shutting the door closed and locking it. Scratching your head, you rubbed your eyes, questioning whether you hallucinated. Maybe the things your fiance had said were getting to you.

With a sigh of relieved nerves, you slipped back into bed with Taehyung who was softly snoring, lips curling up as you hugged him from behind.

While you thought about the sudden events for a while, the road trip still had you extremely exhausted and it didn’t take long for you to drifting off as well.

What you failed to realize in the darkness of the stormy night, however, was a shadow intently watching your door. A shadow that slowly slipped away further into the hallway.

⊱ ────── {⋅. ✯ .⋅} ────── ⊰

“Love.”

“My love.”

“Get up.”

“Tae…?” You groaned, rubbing your eyes. A ball of uneven bed-head popped into view as your fiance mischievously grinned at you.

“How long are you going to sleep for today, love?”

“I’m up, I’m up…” You muttered, kicking the blankets off your body as your fiance gave you a tight hug, arms resting on your shoulders and circling around your neck. A yawn echoed in the room as you stretched your arms up to the ceiling, eyes still closed and head tilted to the side. Fatigue plagued your mind as you stood up, stumbling your way to the bathroom as Taehyung watched from the bed.

“Ready to go down?” Taehyung chirped as you came out of the bathroom, refreshed despite the evident drowsiness that lingered in your body. You nodded again, slipping on your shoes and unlocking the door, stepping in the hallway that was now filled with the bright light of the sun. The two of you descended down the staircase, walking into the dining room as you caught Jungkook’s figure peeking out as you turned the corner.

“Good morning.” You call, grabbing his attention as he turns around, the sun reflecting off the windows and gleaming on the side of his face. Taehyung comes up to your side, taking a seat at one of the tables as you slowly seat yourself beside him.

“Good morning.” Jungkook smiles, watching toward the pair with the curtains now pulled open. “Didn’t sleep well?”

“No, no, I’m alright.” You smile, brushing a loose strand of hair behind your ear as Taehyung rolls his eyes. “The stormy night just kept me up.”

“Yes, it was pretty bad last night. I’m glad you both chose to stay, couldn’t imagine if you were on the road.” Jungkook replies worriedly

“What’s it matter to you…?” Taehyung grumbled underneath his breath, turning his head as your eyebrows furrowed.

“Taehyung, don’t be so rude.” You quietly scold, trying to get him to look at you in the eyes. Taehyung just looks off to the side, chin propped up on the palm of his hand as he grumbles.

“So, I heard about your mom Jungkook...famous actress and all...where is she? Is she going to join us for breakfast? Are we even going to meet her?” Taehyung bluntly asks, eyes shifting to stare at the doe-eyed boy who only tilted his head to the side with an innocent smile on his face.

“No, my mother is going to eat in her bedroom. She’s still not feeling well and the least she said she could do is not get her guests sick.” Jungkook smiled, taking a seat in front of the pair with a light breakfast laid out in front of everyone. As the three of you silently ate, Taehyung gave the younger annoyed looks from time to time, only stopping when you silently scolded him underneath the table.

“So Jungkook,” You began trying to lighten the mood. “What do you like to do here? For fun, I mean.”

He looked surprised at you for a few seconds before he puts his toast down, “Mm..well...I mostly spend time with mother...sometimes we dance...ummm…”

“That sounds lovely.” You say to Jungkook, kicking Taehyung under the table when he scoffs.

“Ow!” He whines before glaring at Jungkook “She meant what’s there to do around here? Anything fun? Or is the whole place dead.”

You growl at Taehyung who cowers in his seat. Poor Jungkook looks hurt by his words, slumping in his chair.

“Jungkook.” You say slowly, “Don’t mind him. He’s had a terrible day yesterday with the whole storm interference an-”

“Oh!” Jungkook exclaims making you and Taehyung jumped. “How about we go out and view the forest?

“The weather outside is so beautiful, it’d be a shame if you didn’t get to see it!”

“Taehyung, doesn’t that sound like a pleasant idea?” You smiled, your foot clamping down on his leg. Taehyung bit his tongue, looking away and just giving a reluctant nod. “Then that settles that! After breakfast, do you want to show us around, Jungkook?”

The boy nodded excitedly, almost jumping out of his seat as you laughed at the enjoyment in his face, only for Taehyung to roll his eyes once again.

Brat.

As you pulled Taehyung by the hand back to your cabin room, he groaned like a child. You had bought your bags upstairs, shifting through the outfits you brought along for the trip. The door to your room shut closed as Taehyung threw a jacket over his clothes, watching as you slowly fixed your appearance in the mirror that sat by the vanity. He walked behind you, locking his arms around your hips with his face buried into the crook of your neck.

“Do we really have to…?” Taehyung whined, tilting his head up to check your reflection from the mirror. “I can think of plenty of other interesting things that can take up our time, love…”

“Taehyung, you are going to be a good boy and join us outside, okay?” You sternly warned, turning around to face the pouty man. “C’mon, it’s not going to be that bad.”

Taehyung just tightly hugged you again, hesitantly nodding.

I just hate that boy.

As you slipped out of the cabin room, you went downstairs into the main lobby, only to find the spacious area deserted.

“Jungkook?” You called out, hearing your voice echo off the walls. As you look left and right, you sighed, scratching your head and deciding to pay a visit to his room. When you finally ascended the staircase, you took gentle steps towards his room, only to hear loud voices muted by the barrier of the hallway and room.

“She’s not a good woman! Do not get close to her, do you understand? I will not have my son getting close to that bad woman!” A hoarse voice spoke from behind the door as you stopped in your tracks. Was that his mother? And was she talking about you?

“Mother, please! Mother, she’s really just a stranger and it was pouring outside!” You heard Jungkook’s desperate voice argue back, trying to rationalize his mother’s words. “I just want to show her around, what’s the harm of that?”

“You will listen to what your mother says! Do you understand, boy? Do not take that bad woman anywhere!”

“Shut up!” Jungkook screamed, his footsteps echoing against the wooden floors.

The door to his room opened as he runs into you, his eyes wide as your body flinches. Your eyes shift towards the contents inside his room, taking a brief glance as Jungkook hastily slams the door shut. You could see his mother sitting in her rocking chair, facing away from the door.��

“Hi,” Jungkook breathes out. It was awkward for a while since you both knew what the mother was saying about you, but honestly, you didn’t want Jungkook to feel bad because of a crazy old woman.

So you smile at him, “Ready, soldier? Let’s get going.”

Watching fondly as he immediately returns to that shy beam you were secretly growing to love.

“Let’s go.”

⊱ ────── {⋅. ✯ .⋅} ────── ⊰

That’s how you found yourself outside with a gleaming and excited Jungkook in front of you and a miserable Taehyung to your side, his hands shoved into his pockets. The sun was brightly shining and birds happily chirp as Jungkook gave you a small tour around the forest. You gazed in awe at the enormous hardwoods and the nice breeze that blew your hair back.

“It’s so pretty!” You marvelled, earning a chuckle from Jungkook who smiled from off on the side of the trail. “Isn’t this one pretty, Taehyung?” You called, the glum man gazing over and giving a reluctant nod.

“Ohh! This one too! I wish I could paint this little guy here…” You pouted, bending your knees as you gazed at the beautiful flowers growing in front of you. Taehyung just huffed, crossing his arms as he stood behind you on the trail.

“Is that all you ever think about? Art? Painting? Really?” He spat dryly, only for heat to rise up to your face as you turned around. You have had about enough of his negativity. It was ruining the trip and slowly tore down your patience.

“What’s your problem, Taehyung? Can’t you just control yourself for once? Can’t you keep your negative comments and insults to yourself?” You groan in frustration, eyes narrowed as Taehyung shoots you back the same look.

“How about you try and think about me for once!” Taehyung shouted, his voice echoing in the forest as birds flew away from the intensity of his voice. “Y’know, I maybe thought our original trip would be able to convince you to finally accept me as your fiance, but now that I’m here instead, I’m honestly sick of this!”

“I’m your fiance! Me! And you’re just letting this man who you KNOW likes you more than a friend, and you’re doing nothing about it! You’re letting him flirt with you with the way you’re acting! I’m so sick! OF ALL OF THIS! So how about you try and think about how I feel! Don’t you think I was patient enough when I gave you time to sort out your feelings, even though I was hurt you still accepted my proposal when you never truly felt the same way? But you…! You!” Taehyung pointed his finger, only to whip his hand away as he grunted in frustration.

With his voice now softer, Taehyung just glared at you.

“And you won’t even believe me about my concerns with this inn. What even am I to you, huh? Is this the respect I get? IS IT?!”

“Taehyung… just-”

“You are unbelievable!” Taehyung screams, earning the attention of an oblivious Jungkook who turns around, nervously gazing at the couple who just glared at each other. “And you still don’t believe me! You…! I-I…”

The air got silent as Taehyung just stared at his feet, his head lowered as he turned away. “It’s over. Let’s just end it. If you can’t trust me, if you don’t want to marry me, if you can’t tell another man to stop flirting with you, if you don’t even know what you want from this relationship, then… just stop… let’s just stop.”

⊱ ────── {⋅. ✯ .⋅} ────── ⊰

As soon as Tae pushes the doors of the inn, he doesn’t wait for you. Instead, rushing up the stairs and slamming the door of his room.

You roll your eyes, walking slowly after him and watching him throw a tantrum. Jungkook trails you just as slow, his big eyes filled with concern and a frown on his boyish features.

“Are you sure he’s alright? He seems so mad.”

You sigh deeply, a headache forming behind your eyes. “He’s fine Jungkook...just don’t worry okay. He gets like this sometimes.”

With that, you turn and look at Jungkook who’s staring at you intensely. “He..shouldn’t do that…”

“Hmm?”

“He shouldn’t treat you like that...” He says with a low voice, “I would never treat you like that.”

“It’s...It’s fine I’ll just…” You step away from Jungkook’s intense gaze, turning around and rushing up the stairs.

As you took a step on each stair, your hand gliding on the handle, you could feel Jungkook stare at your back, looking up and admiring you from the lobby. You turn the corner, softly walking toward your cabin room, hearing the shuffle of bags and feet.

You step inside your room, to find Taehyung rummaging around and packing his suitcase.

“What are you doing?” You ask him apprehensively, tired of his draining attitude since you first spotted the inn from your car window.

“I’m leaving. Are you coming or not?” Taehyung put his hand on his hip, his bag firmly zipped closed.

Sighing you cross your arms, “Stop acting like a child for God’s sake! Why can’t you just enjoy yourself?”

“Can’t you see things are clearly wrong?” Taehyung argues back, gesturing his arms out as if to engulf the entire inn.

“What Taehyung? What is wrong with this small, quaint inn? What could possibly be so terrible OF A BOOKING A SMALL CABIN ROOM FOR TWO DAYS TO SURVIVE A NASTY STORM?”

“While you were having fun like the spoiled princess you are with your new prince charming, I was actually checking the place out! The registry listed all the people that checked in, but never, not even once have any checked out. On all the records!”

“T-that's,” You struggle to find the words, “It’s an old registry, it’s not reliable!”

“So then why are all the phone lines dead?” He deadpans.

“What?”

“In the dining room, near the kitchen. A phone was sitting there and I picked it up, and all I heard was static. It was dead!”

“Okay, but what would be the use of a phone when I can’t even get service here, Taehyung?” You reply back bitterly.

“And just where is his mother? Huh? How come no has one seen her?”

“She’s sick!”

“Oh, isn’t that just convenient?” Taehyung spits dryly.

“You’re crazy! She’s an old woman, I heard her myself!”

“But you still have never seen her, have you?!”

“ENOUGH! I don’t want to talk about this anymore, not when you’re being so unreasonable!”

“Are you going to come or not?”

When you remain silent, he just shakes his head.

“Fine... I’m leaving then.”

⊱ ────── {⋅. ✯ .⋅} ────── ⊰

It’s been two hours since Taehying’s departure.

Two hours since he burned your whole engagement to hell. Two hours after he broke your heart into pieces. And you sat there in the lounge, feeling helpless. In the corner of your mind, you think this was always meant to happen, that you and Taehyung were two completely different people and that it was a mistake to ever meet him. To fall so hopelessly in love with him. Maybe it’s a good thing that this happened now, rather than later. Maybe it’s good that you’ve found your answer to his question.

Jungkook approaches your sad body on the sofa cautiously, his black hair softly falling over his eyes.

“___… Are you alright?”

You were too deep in thought as he approached your side, so you were startled and let out a gasp. “What? Oh, yea...I’m alright.”

“Is there anything I can do to help?” You can hear the burning guilt in his voice and you smile.

“It's alright Jungkook, I just...want to be alone for now.” You get up, walking close to him “I’ll stay here tonight and find my way home tomorrow. If that’s okay?”

“Of course!” He responds back, a little too eager which makes you laugh

“Thank you Jungkook,” You say placing a palm underneath his cheek and feeling him heat up, “You’ve been so kind.”

With that, you reach up and give him a small kiss on the cheek. When you move back, his eyes are as big as a fish and he looks frozen, stunned at the small intimacy.

“M-..M..I-”

You stand there as he stutters. In an instant, he turns around, awkwardly walking out the lounge in fast-paced steps. Humored, you can’t help the giggle that makes its way past your lips and you sigh. Then frown.

Just what were you doing?

This is exactly why Taehyung left you. You let out a guttural groan, rubbing around your face with your hands. What was wrong with you?

As you were moping about all your bad decisions, a spark from under the sofa caught your eye. Hmm? Tilting your head to get a better angle, you bend down trying to study the object. It was a key, the one Jungkook wore around his neck.

Jungkook’s room key!

Immediately, you reach out and pluck the key from the floor. Did he lose this? Or did he just drop it after your little moment together? Well, it’s no use to ponder on the subject, you need to give it back to him.

“Jungkook?” You call out

No response. That’s weird he just left like a minute ago. Confused, you begin walking to the reception hoping that he just didn’t hear you. Once you’re in the reception room, you realize Jungkook’s not there. You step up to the front desk. Where could he have gone? Outside?

With a shrug of your shoulders, you think to just put the key down on his desk so he can find it when he comes in. But you stop just as you were about to put them down. Something Taehyung said starts appearing in your mind.

“And just where is his mother? Huh? How come no has one seen her?”

You stand there, in the middle of the bright reception recalling the words your ex-fiance spoke. Slowly you turn, looking up the stairs where all the rooms were located. Perhaps this was the chance to prove Taehyung wrong once and for all.

Wait, no! You shouldn’t do this, it’s not right to snoop around. Yet, the longer you stand there, the more everything Taehyung said starts to make you apprehensive. Besides, Jungkook’s not around. Maybe you can tell him you just wanted to return the key. You’re just checking anyway...it couldn’t hurt.

With that, you make your way to the staircase. Carefully, you place your foot on the first step. Then the other on another. You make your way up the steps, hating each creek that resounded around the Inn. Something in your gut felt strange, like this was a terrible, terrible mistake.

As you get to the top of the step you sigh, looking down into the hallway where Jungkook’s room was. You make your way down the hall, passing your room and trying to concentrate on doing this quickly but your body prolonged you. Alarms were raised in your head and you felt nausea crawl up your throat.

Taehyung had always said you were a bad liar.

You sauntered down the hallway until you finally got to Jungkook’s room. Its silence taunting you. You gulp a few times, trying to moisten your dry mouth. What if Jungkook catches you and throws you out of the inn? Where would you go then?

With trembling fingers, you place the key inside the lock, pursing your lips when you hear it unlock. Slowly you grab the knob, turning it and pushing the door open with the lightest force. The creek in its hinges makes you cringe and clench your free fist.

It was completely dark in his room, and only the hallway’s light illuminated inside. There was nothing special in Jungkook’s room, just a bed, and nightstand like in your room. And of course, his mother. Who was still sitting in that rocking chair facing away from you? Her head was still in that chair and it looked like she hadn’t moved an inch since this morning. What was she doing in a pitch-black room?

“Miss Dulcie?”

She doesn’t respond. Just sits perfectly still in that long brown wooden chair. That was strange since she sounded so full of life this morning.

You step inside the room, your heart beating a million times per minute. “Miss Dulcie umm, I’m sorry for barging in...I was just looking for Jungkook?”

Still, no response so you go closer, trying to see if she was asleep.

“Miss Dulcie, your son Jungkook, I wanted to return this key to him.” You were right behind her now, so close that you could smell her. She smelled like...rotten apples? Scrunching your face at the odor, you call out to her one last time

“Miss Dulcie?”

You walk around until you are in front of her and as soon as you do, a terrified scream leaves you.

There, in that chair sat an old, gray rotting skeleton.

Taehyung was right, there was no mother. There was something horribly wrong with this place, but you don’t have time to regret anything when you hear a sudden high-pitched voice and a shadow appears in the doorway.

“I knew you were a bad girl!”

You shriek louder, crashing into the wall of the room as you witness who you were speaking with. Who the woman talking this morning was. Jungkook, stood in the doorway with a dress and a wig, just like the one on the skeleton and smiled, breathing heavily. Tears already run down your cheeks, as you cover your mouth with your palm. He held a giant knife in his right hand.

“I told him.” He says with that grotesque tone, “I told him you were bad. That you were a liar. But he doesn’t listen, he never listens to me.”

“W-wha-”

“He went on and on about your discussions, how much he related to you, about how pretty your hair was and how kind you were. He said he didn’t need me anymore, he did.”

You were shivering so hard you were about to pass out. Instead, you think about ways you can escape with him blocking the entrance the way he did.

“But he was wrong you see! I told him you were bad, I told him you were just like the rest! You snooped into his room, you lied to him!”

“No, I-I just wanted to return the k-”

“Liar!” He says before he charges at you. With a scream you ran from your spot in the corner, bumping into the chair along the way just before he stabbed the knife into the wooden wall. It got stuck in the small gap, and while he focused on prying out the knife, you ran out of the room.

As fast as your legs could take you, you run down the hall and up to the end of the staircase. Without missing a beat. Fear fueling your energy. Once you at the reception, you sprint up to the entrance of the inn. You try and pull it open but it was the door only rattled back, stuck and locked in its hinges.

“No, no, no!” You say each time you pry. It doesn’t budge, locked shut from the outside. “No, NO NOOOO!”

You scream as you began to cry, pounding on the door fruitlessly. You can’t. You can’t go like this. There was so much you had yet to do, you can’t. You can’t!

“If only he’d listen to me!” The horrific voice yells and you turn around to find Jungkook standing above the staircase with a wild look in his eyes. His knife gleaming in the light of the chandelier. Again, you scream and run when he starts charging down the stairs.

You run into the lounge, heaving as you heard Jungkook stomping down the stairs. Quickly you ran behind one of the furthest sofas, crouching down and hiding behind it. In a second, Jungkook steps into the room, you could hear him pacing around the lounge in easy, calculated steps.

“Bad girl, where are you?” He sing-songs and you cover your mouth to stop from whines from escaping.

You watch in horror as he steps up right in front of your sofa and stops, turns his feet in your direction. For a while, he just stands there and you aren't sure of what to do. Then he starts moving again to your relief.

You move the slightest from your spot, just a bit to check his location. Suddenly, you’re being pulled in the opposite direction by your leg as you scream.

“There you are!” Jungkook shouts at you on the floor as he steadies his knife to plunge into you.

Your ears are ringing and you feel wet tears rolling down your cheek.

This is it. This is the end.

“___!”

A voice shouts as glass shatters and you can hear Jungkook screech, his body lumping onto the floor. Your feet jump up as your eyes desperately look around your surroundings. Jungkook collapsed onto the floor, shards of glass scattered around the floor as you get up and gasp to your surprise. Taehyung was out of breath, but he was standing right in front of you, dust and dirt on his cheeks. He quickly extends his hand, which you immediately grab and the two of you run.

“T-taehyung!” You gasp, squeezing his hand so hard you know it had to hurt. “W-why…? H-how?” You cry out, whether, from relief or happiness, you aren’t exactly sure.

“The front door was chained shut, I knew something was wrong! I had to break in through the basement! We have to go through there! C’mon!” He shouts as the two of you descend down another set of stairs. The basement is filled with bookshelves and portraits of Jungkook’s mother, items scattered around the floor and objects that lost its shine. The basement was dark, with only a burning oil lamp hooked near the entrance. Taehyung guided you through the scattered items as he lifts the broken basement door open as you quickly slip through.

Before Taehyung can take a step out, the laugh returns and Jungkook rushes towards Taehyung, colliding into the man’s body. The oil lamp crashes down onto the floor as the two men struggle against each other. Taehyung grunts, grabbing Jungkook and suppressing the arm that held the knife from ever going down.

“You fucking lunatic!!” Taehyung screams, slowly losing in strength as the knife slowly comes down bit by bit. Jungkook just laughs, overpowering the man and stabbing him in his upper chest.

However, his victory is cut short as a steel club collides into his skull, causing him to screech out. Jungkook topples down to the floor as you stand there, trembling with your hands tightly gripping onto a golf club with red drops of blood on the tip. You bend down, leaning Taehyung on one of your shoulders as you make it outside.

As you take one back look inside the darkness of the basement, you watch as a growing fire begins to eat away at the bookshelves. You look up as your feet touch the delicate grass underneath you, feeling the rain pour over you and down your face. Looking back at Taehyung, you slowly lug him toward the car and lay him down.

Your fiance had left the keys into your gratitude, letting you quickly start the engine and begin backing away from this cursed place. The tires screech as you make it onto the road, pushing on the accelerator to get you going as fast as possible.

As you were leaving, you look in the rearview mirror, taking one last glimpse at the inn, watching smoke and fire engulfing it all.

⊱ ────── {⋅. ✯ .⋅} ────── ⊰

Even the air smelled sweet.

Your eyes fluttered open as you found your head tilted downward, arms crossed in your lap as your butt still remained in the chair that you had initially sat in when you arrived.

How long was I asleep?

As you drowsily blinked several times, you were greeted by the bright white painted walls of the room and the ruffle of the window curtains. A breeze blew past into the cold hospital room, your figure watching over your fiance for who knows how long. Every day, every week, every month, you seemed to find yourself back in this hospital chair in his room, staring at his non-moving body, his closed eyes, and quiet breathing thanks to the machine he was hooked onto. His skin had gotten pale with his body losing muscle and weight.

There were times when you entered his hospital room, only to stare or talk to him for hours until you finally broke down. Tears would roll out from your eyes and down your cheeks as you stared at his body. Could you even consider him alive with the way he always lay flat and motionless? All you wanted to do was to feel his warm body against yours, to see that smile you always called cheesy. Even his stupid habits that you hated… You wanted to see those too.

“I’ll be going, Taehyung…”’ You whispered, nails digging into your pants. “I’ll see you tomorrow…”

As you stood up, you took small steps toward his bed, your arm reaching out for his hand as you gave it a small squeeze. It was so frigidly cold.

You told the cops everything you could, but they just looked at you like you were crazy. I mean, the whole story with the guy who thinks he’s his mom who used to be a famous actress and now she’s dead and her son’s probably killed others. It was far-fetched. But you insisted, shouted at them for being so incompetent like a madwoman until they relented. The police went back to the scene of the crime, although hesitant with everything you told them. They came back told you the place was burned to a crisp, no signs of anyone there but with a fire like that, no one to survive either.

In the end, they launched an on-going investigation after finding out some other people that disappeared in that area. None of it was helpful to you, not as long as they didn’t find Jungkook’s body and Taehyung continued to lay there with wires stuck into him.

You turned away, dragging your feet over to the door as you pulled it open, stepping out into the hallway. While you walked through the hospital, all you dwelled on was the mistakes you made. Because of you, Taehyung was lying in that bed. And because he cared about you, he came back, worried and protecting, no, saving you from death. Your fingers came up to your head, pulling at your hair as you gasped for air, feeling tears trickle down your cheeks once again.

Who were you to deserve such kindness? Why could you never listen? How could you ever make it up to him?

As you stepped into the elevator, feeling it carry you back to the lobby of the hospital, you sign out, shuffling down the sidewalk and back to your small car. The car beeps twice as you press your car key, opening the door and sliding in. When you start the car and buckle your seatbelt, your hand comes up to the rearview mirror, but your eyes go wide as you scream.

He was smiling, his brown hair sticking out as he gazed at you through the mirror. You spun around, looking behind you in the backseat, only to find the row empty. Your heart was thumping in your chest as a bead of sweat rolls down your face. You were sure! You swore you saw him again. But when you looked straight ahead and changed the gears, you couldn’t help but wonder.

Was he truly still out there?

#yandere bts #taehyung x reader #jungkook x reader #yandere taehyung #yandere jungkook #bts smut #yandere taehyung x reader #yandere jungkook x reader #love triangle #bts horror #bts au #bts psycho #bts writing #bts fanfiction

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joyhigh · 4 years

Note

Smoke (:

This one ended up being a longer than my usual drabble, but I had some interesting imagery in mind and went where it took me!

(Warning for gore, usual joy mutant grossness, and things getting burned alive)

She was inspired by a campfire. It was something Buddy often gazed into when the scavenging was done and there was nothing else to do. A small flickering piece of destruction, the wall of rocks surrounding it and preventing it from moving any further, keeping the flame’s focus on destroying what was below it at that moment.

She thought of a plan, then practiced her trumpet.

It took some time to figure out how to get any semblance of a proper sound out of the instrument, and even once she did it wasn’t much compared to the haunting tones she recalled from her confrontation with the throne of flesh and the pathetic man who sat atop it. Still, after hours of tedious experimentation and a few close calls with mutants accidentally provoked by the sound, Buddy finally established what notes got the reactions she needed from the mindless mounds of meat.

She kept Brad tied to a rock formation in one of the many caverns snaking through the looming precipices of Olathe, it was the only thing strong enough to withstand his efforts to follow her when she left. The craggy walls were deep underground enough to protect him from the sound, Buddy had no desire for him to get caught up in her plan. Whichever way Brad ended up perishing, she didn’t want it to be like that.

The next step was finding a location, which didn’t give her much difficulty. The wasteland was full of precarious ravines and it was just a matter of finding one closed off to escape and big enough for her purposes. Eventually Buddy pinpointed the perfect spot, a sheer drop between two cliff edges with the space below filled with jagged stones. To fall from there would mean certain injury or worse.

It was a place she’d been to before and gave her no joy to return to. Rusty stains still marked up the stones, scraps of polka-dot fabric tied to stakes made makeshift flags in the wind. Among the many piles of bones and flesh nearly picked clean by animals, two larger corpses stood out. She recognized the remains of the mutant Yado sent to attack her, the encounter it had with Buzzo leaving its arms torn off from its body as well as its head, the decaying limbs still sticking up off the ground like bony trees.

Buzzo himself was a little further up ahead. Buddy had left his body there, his bloated form was much too large for any sort of reasonable burial. She doubted he deserved that kind of dignity anyway, but he did offer some aid in the end. As such, when she came across his dented, bloody helmet amongst the carnage, she buried it as a small symbolic grave.

It was an area full of rot, and more than fitting for her purposes. Olathe was dying, disemboweled by Buddy’s own blade, and she intended to finish what she started.

She began a far distance from it, however. Buddy wanted to draw in as many mutants she could before their final destination. Once she set foot on her established path, she raised the trumpet to her chapped lips and began to play.

Come here.

It was a shrill, piercing call whose sound bounced around the rocks in a ringing echo. Once finished with the melody she’d created Buddy repeated it, eye scanning her surroundings for any signs of movement. Soon enough they arrived. Worming their way out of caverns and stumbling down cliffs, the mutants lurched and groaned in their approach. After eyeing them warily for a moment, Buddy turned heel and briskly marched away with the sounds of the trumpet streaming behind her. The mutants followed.

It was difficult to figure out a straightforward route to lead them in, the terrain uneven and made up of steep angles. Occasionally Buddy would have to pause playing to use her hands to climb a rope or particularly daunting hill, but she tried to keep the music going as much as possible to keep the creatures completely ensnared by it. Some of the bigger ones struggled to maneuver themselves up the cliffs, but her call was persistent and they eventually managed.

As the absurd parade went on, Buddy could hear more and more mutants behind her, the music she made now mixed with gurgling groans and rumbles as an ominous accompaniment. She tried not to look at them, instead just being mindful of her peripheral vision to make sure none were getting too close.

The noise was starting to make her head throb, the combination of constant playing and moving leaving Buddy more winded than she was used to. However with every step there was a swirl of rage in her chest that kept her going. This was the human race that everyone told her she was responsible for, had to keep alive. This was the future she ended up suffering for. It wasn’t fair. She missed the numbness of the Joy, now every emotion inside her felt too sharp, twisting up her insides.

Buddy couldn’t quite tell how long she had been going, passing The List, the emptied out settlements, but after what felt like ages the polka dot flags at last came into view. As she grew close to the cliffside she climbed up onto a taller rock formation, high up enough to have a view over the ravine. The hollow sockets of nearby skulls watched her all the while.

When Buddy finally turned to look at her followers, her breath caught in her throat.

It was a sea of flesh, plain and simple. A writhing, breathing assemblage of bodies extending far back to the edge of the territory, lurching and twisting over each other and impossible to count. Buddy had seen her fair share of horror but something about the sight before her made bile rise in the back of her throat. But it was too late to stop now.

Quickly she raised the trumpet once more, steely determination in her eyes as she cast her gaze back to the pit. When she played again, the tune was changed.

Move forward.

And so the creatures did. With no thought left in their rotted brains for self-preservation they scrambled forward and around the rock Buddy stood upon, an island among the waves of former men. When the front lines of the mutants reached the edge of the cliff they fell without any fuss, quickly followed by the others pushing behind them. A part of Buddy even more spiteful than the rest wished Yado was still alive down there so he could die terrified, crushed to death by the things he seemed to love so much. But then again, maybe that sick freak would enjoy it.

Buddy played the trumpet with renewed vigor. If that man truly made her in order to have a hand in the creation of these monsters, it would be all the more satisfying to spit in his face and destroy them. It was all the better for the mutants, in her opinion, she’d be putting them out of their misery. A cruel mercy.

Her music only stopped when she found herself alone. Immediately the distant screams and moans reached her ears, but for now Buddy ignored them. She never expected them to all die right away. This next step was to handle that. She now approached an unassuming crate she had filled with what she needed prior, setting her trumpet on the ground and peering inside.

There was a group of empty beer bottles, filled with gasoline and oil and plugged with pieces of cloth. She’d seen such firebombs used by others before, it didn’t take much for her to figure out how to make them. Objects of destruction were easy to find in the wasteland whether it be cigarettes and booze, which caused decay from the inside, or something less subtle. Dustin and Brad may have been able to throw fire but Buddy, even with her abilities in combat, had to get creative.

She took four of the firebombs and returned to the edge of the cliff, placing all but one by her feet as she rummaged into her pocket. Buddy withdrew a lighter, a smudged and scratched up metal box she found off a body while scavenging, then flicked it open to ignite the rag. Time seemed to move in slow motion as she turned her gaze to the pit, lifting a steady hand to aim before hurling the bottle into the ravine.

With a sharp crack it shattered against rock, fire blossoming like a glowing, terrible flower. The dazed sounds of the mutants began to be intermingled with screams. Most of the fire dissipated after a few seconds but Buddy was satisfied by the sight of some scraps of clothing still attached to the mutants catching alight. It was a start.

Thus began the process: light, throw, and repeat. Buddy tried to do it as fast as she could, she wanted this over with. Soon smoke began to rise and the smell of burning flesh assaulted Buddy’s noise, making her lightheaded. By the time there weren’t any bottles to throw it was a thick cloud, partly obscuring the bodies below. The sounds of pain coming from them intermingled with the roar of fire that sent a stifling heat up into Buddy’s face. She slowly backed away, breathing shakily as her trembling hands clutched the lighter. It was done.

At first Buddy tried to imagine it in a different light. The flame purging these mounds of filth from the earth, letting whatever humanity was left in them rise up along with the smoke to somewhere different, somewhere better. She remembered Uncle Rick mentioned a place called heaven once, somewhere people went to after they died where they’d be happy forever.

But as Buddy stared at the screaming inferno below, lungs and eyes stinging, she couldn’t believe that.

#lisa rpg #lisa the joyful #buddy armstrong #joy mutants #my writing

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writing-the-end · 4 years

Text

WS Chapter 56- Let’s Get Down to Business

Previous Chapter

Masterpost

Totally inspired by Mulan, both Red and my favorite disney princess! All the minesonas are together, the hermits are here, and the battlefield is ready! Just one last bit of red angst, brought to you by JoeHills

Red belongs to @theguardiansofredland

Ecto belongs to @cooler-cactus-block

Mentioned: Pierre belongs to @cabbagesenpai , Star belongs to @thatonewannabedragon , Bre belongs to @mintyhotchocolate . (If there are any others i missed let me know! Credit where credit’s due!)

Morning sunlight rises over the tents and small cabins within the battlefield. Not much after the sun has fully appeared over the horizon, black wings jet across the camp- followed by a second smaller pair of wings.

Red groans, wishing Avon had never found that damned bell she has. “Wake up everyone! We need to get as much training in, we never know when the hellspawns will arrive!”

“I was the best fighter ever seen in any world, I don’t need training.” Etho groans, face dragging along the ground as Avon pulls him by the feet out of his tent.

“Key word ‘was’. Let’s see if that still stands.” Avon chuckles, tossing his feet to the ground and joining Ecto on the dunes. The two clasp hands, pulling each other into a half hug. The warriors share a moment of silent conversation in their eyes, enemies turned friends. And now friends turned generals of a small army.

“A stick? That’s a pretty dinky weapon, man.” Mumbo looks at the staff Ecto hands him.

“Ugh, again with the weird english words.” Iskall hisses, thwapping his friend in the ankles. Beside the other two architechs, Grian lets out a giggle at Mumbo’s pain.

“I don’t trust giving any of you a weapon in our world.” Ecto mumbles, rolling her eyes and handing off a staff to Ren.

“Just like a lightsaber. Thanks dude!” Ren gives her a wink, spinning his staff and planting it into the sand.

Avon pulls off her cloak, draping it over a cactus and getting a feel for her staff. It’s lighter than her trident, but it reminds her of her earlier days. Jessie flits off the warming desert sand, wrapping around her neck and curling her tail around her bicep. “Avon, I don’t think you made enough sticks for everyone. I don’t have one.”

Ecto glances to the other wanderer, and both bite their lips. Avon avoids Red’s anxious gaze, the way he bounces on his feet to get to training. She looks anywhere else, fearful eyes meeting with Pierre, flitting to Star, before staring down Impulse. “Red… Ecto and I talked it over, and we aren’t sure you’re ready for the rage of war.”

“Wha-what do you mean?” The entire desert gets quiet, everyone staring at the three. Making it even worse. “But I can fight! You saw it in the mansion, in the nether! I want to help you all!”

“Red, we don’t want you to get hurt.” Ecto whispers. “This is more than just a woodland mansion, or even our botched infiltration to the nether. This is war.”

“This is for the best, Red.” Avon pulls Jessie off her shoulder, plopping the dragonet into Red’s open arms. “Just… try to stay out of trouble. Stay safe, okay?”

Avon and Ecto turn away, yelling for the hermits and other fighters to begin sparring. To get back to business. Red backs away, sniffling as she tries to keep her tears from catching the sunlight. Is she really that useless? That her own best friends would rather she stay out of their way? Stay out of trouble? Jessie chirps, purple tongue lapping at Red’s warm tears.

He turns away, feet slipping as he runs across the sand. Away from the army, into the campground, tripping over stakes and vines. He collapses into a pit of water, Jessie floundering to the surface as Red sinks lower. Feeling warm tears sting and mix with the water. Salt against fresh.

Red thought he was a part of the team. A part of this all. That he wasn’t useless to them, to anyone anymore. He could be a friend, a part of this battle. To get justice, make the nether pay for Mama Gummi’s death. But he’s been sidelined. Too weak, too useless. He was an idiot to think that he was anything but that. He should just stay out of trouble. Always out of trouble- that’s all that caused this anyways.

He’s not sure how long he’s underwater, curled in a tiny fish ball. Jessie had crawled out, but he could see her curled up in the sun. Laying in the grass just above him. Even Jessie will eventually be something more. More than just a baby. She’ll grow into a massive dragon, with firebreathing and massive claws and wings. She’ll be useful. Red flinches when a hand taps his shoulder, peeking from over his shoulder.

A hermit has his head shoved underwater, glasses floating away from the bridge of his nose. His hand opens, inviting for Red to take it. And for some reason, Red does. Something about his face, his calm smile and jovial eyes eases Red from his wallowing.

“You’ve got quite the lung capacity to stay under there.” The hermit hauls Red out of the water, plopping her onto the grass beside Jessie.

“I can breathe underwater. It’s not that incredible.” Red mumbles, not willing to meet his eyes.

“I dunno, that’s pretty sweet in my mind. I’m Joe Hills. My friends just call me Joe.” He offers a hand, his other reaching out and petting Jessie. The dragon chirps, pressing into his palm like a kitten.

“Red. Why aren’t you training with the others?” Joe stands up, and Red follows him. He isn’t sure why, but Joe just exudes a feeling of comfort, easy and friendly. Standing near Joe alone makes Red’s spirits rise.

“I’m not really the kind of person to fight with weapons. I’m more of a ‘pen is mightier than the sword’ kind of guy. What better way to beat your enemies into submission than with a damning remark on their ill actions towards the safekeeping and prosperous balance that nature provides us?” Joe summits a rise in the plain, plopping down on the grass. Red sits down beside him.

“I think I understood about half of those words, Joe.” The two look out across the battlefield. The training has split off. Some remain with Avon, working on strategy and further practice with fighting. Others have spread across the field, Ecto traveling between groups as they build up traps. Bre works with Stress, setting up potion dispensers. Pierre and Etho play with fire charges.

“Hey Impulse can you help me test this redstone trap?” Tango waves his friend over to the other side of the forest. Impulse takes off from the campground below where Red and Joe sit, watching the work.

Red isn’t really keen on this whole fighting thing, but she understands that all attempts to talk have faltered. But she asked for the traps to be survivable. Maybe if the hellspawns see that a battle will cause harm, they’ll stop. It’s her hope, at least. But just another thing he can’t do right. He can’t even kill right. She sits, watching Tango explain the setup to Impulse. Tango is covered with redstone, the same color as his red eyes. Impulse was working with water, so he’s a little cleaner. Both laugh, and a glint of something metal appears in Impulse’s hand.

Red squints to see what it is, but Impulse disappears from view. The ground beneath him has dropped away, and black vapors escape the pit. His head only reappears as he jumps around within the trap. “Is that…?”

“Wither roses. Quite a poetic flower, I must say. So beautiful and delicate. Yet so...deadly.” Joe hardly looks up from his notes on the field. Red can’t take his eyes off of Impulse. His veins turn black as the wither roses deliver the sickness, and he grabs onto a ladder that was set above the trap, pale hands shaking as he climbs out. He still clutches whatever’s in his hand.

“He looks like he’s not going to make it!” Red stands, realizing that Impulse is covered in wounds. The wither races across his body, penetrating into his heart and lungs. And the entire time, Tango can hardly breathe. Not from fear. Tango is laughing so loud Red can hear it from the hill he’s atop. Impulse’s writhing stops, but Tango’s cackles don’t. Horror etches across Red’s face as he realizes what’s happened. What kind of sick friend laughs as their friend perishes from wither sickness? Why would Tango not help him?

A loud crack echoes from the forest, forcing Red to cover his ears and cringe. Joe doesn’t even flinch, used to the crackling noise. He glances over his glasses, seeing the horror on Red’s face be replaced by confusion.

Impulse is standing up, brushing wither vapors off his shorts and playfully nudging Tango. Tango’s now on the ground, clutching his stomach from laughing so hard. Red wipes her eyes, blinking away the tears as if that was causing her to see things. “What happened? How is he alive?”

“We’re all carrying totems of Undying. Once Xisuma warned us that there’s no respawn in your world, we all keep them around.” Joe pushes his glasses up his nose. “Do you not know what a totem of undying is?”

Red shakes his head, and looks back at the pair. Impulse and Tango are looking at the trap that just killed the former, smiling quite proudly at the redstone work. He can see a glint of gold, covering Impulse’s cheek where a thorn had scratched him. The trap is deadly, but it’s possible to escape. Impulse closes it up, so no one else falls in for now. “What is a totem of undying?”

“You’ve been carrying one around the whole time.” Joe points the feather end of his quill to Red’s backpack. Pointing at the golden statue, haphazardly tied onto the straps like a knick knack. Red sits down, plucking Fred off his string. Running his fingers across the smooth gold, ringing the emerald eyes. “When the holder’s heart stops beating, their soul perishing, it activates the totem. It breaks apart, and the magic instilled in the metal brings them back from death, gold melting into their wounds and healing them. It’s quite a beautiful sight to see up close.”

Red’s lips form a thin line. Scar gave him this. Why did Scar think he’d need this, or was it a precautionary measure? The idea of having to use such a tool scares Red. But now, he just wants to keep it with him at all times. Red tucks the totem into the pocket of his vest. Just in case. “I’m not going to die. I’m not going to use this. I’m not useless.”

“You should prove that to your friends. Look across this battlefield, little fish. What’s something we’re missing?” Joe lays out his journal, showing the map of the field.

Reds eyes look around, noting the traps and offensive moves. His mind remembers something that Blu said, long ago. When they first met the hellspawn. “I’m the most dangerous. But why?”

He watches a drop of water fall from his hair, quickly drying in the sun. The nether is the realm of fire. The hellspawns are made of fire, of lava and magma. Red remembers the way Blu recoiled from the blast of water that night. The steam and crackling of Endo when he washed over her with a wave. “Water. I can stop them with water! I can defend us all...with water!”

Joe looks up, grinning as he gazes over his glasses. “And you can do it in a less deadly way than any of their blades of blasts can. You aren’t useless, and I don’t think your friends feel that way either. You just haven’t embraced the strongest side of you.” He nods to where Ecto and Avon are training together, using fire charges to simulate hellfire.

“Thank you, Mr. Joe Hills!” Red leaps from the hill, running down and through the campground. “I won’t forget this!”

Red feels the wind brush through his hair, feet pounding across the ground. As joyous and determined as he ever felt. His emotions take over, and soon he’s no longer running. He’s swimming, water pulsing across the grass with him. Easing him over the stakes that would trip him, the pits that would cause him to stumble.

Crossing the battlefield, he raises ice walls, defending the hills and mounds that archers and fighters plan to make their stand upon. Moving water creates a trench, a moat around the campground, protecting them from all sides. Safe from attacks by land from the nether. Red hasn’t felt this much power, this much energy in his whole life.

And he nears Ecto and Avon, struggling to defeat one another and avoid the hellfire surrounding them. Always dueling, equal matches for one another. Ecto shoves Avon backwards, and she narrowly avoids falling into fire by spreading her wings and flying. Avon tosses a fire charge, igniting the grass around Ecto. Trapping her. “You’ve been caught by the nether Ecto! Again!”

Red lets out a holler, the water building up into a wave. The crest of the wave, and Red, comes crashing into the battle. Hellfire extinguishes into sputtering smoke, and both of the wanderers are swept off their feet. Red sees both of them look at her, and she snaps her fingers. “I won’t stay out of trouble. I am the eye of the storm. I am the trouble!”

Dual whips of water lash out. Both Ecto and Avon narrowly avoid the strike, Avon blocking hers and Ecto dodging to the side. Both are shocked, glancing at one another before looking at Red. The three wanderers, the three friends, sharing a silent conversation without a word being spoken. Seeing the strength each has. The strength that makes them a team, that makes them friends.

Red begins to laugh, followed by Ecto. And finally, a giggle bubbles free of Avon. Fire burns bright in all their eyes, and Avon launches her trident at Red. He easily blocks the attack, and deflects it towards Ecto.

The wanderers duel, all three together. Playing like children, laughter ringing across the battlefield. No matter what happens, what the end of this war gives, they’re still together. They’re friends. Allies.

Wanderers.

#wandering stars #ecto #avon #red #hermitcraft #hermitblr #ren #iskall #mumbo jumbo #rendog #joehills #minecraft #mineblr #minesona #mcsona #minecraft persona #writing

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shibalen · 3 years

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[1/3]🍁Hello! I'd love a [ 𑁍 ] and [ ♫︎ ] matchup for Hetalia! I'm a Virgo, INFJ, she/her, and if you'd like you may call me Lilly! I'm very shy, reserved, and awkward when approaching new people, frankly judgemental with them. First impressions are sort of everything to me. So if I have an idea about someone, it sticks. It'll take a bit to convince me otherwise. I don't trust easily, I'm very stubborn. I have anxiety, and tend to fidget when in uncomfortable situations.

[2/3]🍁Once I've found someone I can trust or I even feel is worth of my time as a friend or otherwise, I cherish completely. I'm very protective over the people I care about, I do anything in my power to accommodate them if I can and do my best to provide advice whenever they need it. I'm the 'mom' friend. Once someone truly gets to know me I break more so out of my shell, I'm much more bold and open. Intense some may say. I can get pretty chaotic when I'm 100% in my element.

[3/3]🍁I'm pretty affectionate with those I let into my life.I hate PDA, I hate being touched in public,or without permission.I most definitely hate pet names like 'babe' or 'baby' it makes me very uncomfortable,though 'darling' or 'dear' is much more acceptable to me.I love to joke with people,though I have a very strange sense of humor.I am a little needy with those I love,I have a some abandonment issues.I'm quite the control freak,with some minor anger issues.I love to write, read, and bake!

♡︎ matchup for @lunar-calliope

hello, dear! aah i'm also a virgo and an infj btw, what a coincidence c: i hope you enjoy your matchup!

hetalia: i match you with . . .

arthur kirkland !!

• Arthur is in love with your bold actions and choice of words! getting into a relationship with him means having to deal with honest and sharp-tongued comments. in other words, he needs someone who can keep up with him, aka you.

• you both prefer being reserved, looking for deeper connections with people instead of many half-baked friendships. you also understand each other very well, considering you both play the role of the responsible one in the group when you have the potential to be the most chaotic of them all in the right circumstances.

• you're also oddballs when it comes to your sense of humor. when you're joking around everyone just gives you confused looks while y'all are laughing your heads off. sarcasm, witty inside jokes etc. σ`∀´)σ

• it just seems to me you'd be on the same wavelength from personality to interests. you're the type of couple that gives the other one glance and the latter will immediately know what it means.

• i would love to think you met Arthur in a very elegant manner, where he was at his best gentlemanly behaviour. but we know the truth is that you caught him in the middle of one of his gremlin moments and swearing bloody hell at Francis (. ❛ ᴗ ❛.)

• not the best first impression, no, so you decided to have as little interaction with him as possible. but i think he was one of the few people who managed to change their image of them in your head. underneath that rough exterior he truly wanted to get closer to you.

• despite being quite distant, once Arthur opens up and lets you in he will cherish you for the rest of time! he has already lost so many important people in his life, he refuses to lose you too. . .

• this means that although you're rather stubborn, a bit temperamental and might get into heated arguments sometimes, you know the other well enough to acknowledge that's just how you are. give it a few hours or a day at max and Arthur is silently paying you'd accept his apology.

• Arthur himself is more into subtle but sweet displays of affection rather than showing off. he prefers going the traditional way and get you get you flowers, for example. also acts of service such as helping you clean the house or brush your hair are some things he highly values ♡︎

• when you show your affection to him, on the other hand, he might get huffy because he's not used to being treated with such open affection. he loves it and never wants you to stop.

• i am begging, please teach him how to bake. after your baking sessions together i imagine you two sitting in the garden and drinking tea. on the tray there would be a set of beautiful scones and muffins (yours) right next to the burnt bundles of unidentified matter (his).

• introduces you to his fantasy friends (though you can't really see them oof) and teaches you magic. now there's some writing inspiration for you! plus, he's very much into literature so he happily reads your works and gives you encouragement ♡︎

• a very assuring and supportive lover overall! though not always the best with words he never fails to make you feel loved. you can trust him to be there when anxiety gets particularly bad although it's the little things he does that make it easier to get through the days.

• your dates include afternoon tea times, reading sessions while comfortably leaning against one other and music playing in the background, museum dates, strolls through cities and countrysides, and concerts ♡︎

𑁍 jewellery box

— favourite memory with you:

that one summer evening when you were walking back from a date. you had insisted you'd go on foot instead of taking a cab because of the crisp air and beautiful sky. Arthur was still a little nervous because it was one of your first dates so you generously switched the topic from classic literature to light banter. the atmosphere became lighter, so much even that you ended up playfully shoving each other until you both ended up in the nearby pond. you were soaking wet but laughing nevertheless. for Arthur, that expensive suit was definitely worth it.

— favourite activity to do together:

i love the idea that you're both always teaching each other something so i have to say that's what he enjoys best as well. you teach him how to make perfect cake batter, he teaches you embroidery. you teach him how to write your favourite genre, he tells you about the world of rock and punk music. it's fulfilling and a way to spend quality time with you ♡︎

— favourite place to kiss you:

ack this man loves nothing more than kissing your fingers and knuckles. there is just something so enchanting about them even as he watches you flip a page of a book or decorate muffins. although it's a common gesture of courtesy it has grown to have a very special meaning for the two of you.

— favourite nicknames for you:

darling, dear, love, sweetheart. these come as no surprise but Arthur does really find them fitting for you, sweet and classy. he sometimes adds my and your name to the beginning to emphasise the deep meaning they hold. "Lilly, my dear, won't you put down the pen and take a break with me? The weather is lovely, how about a stroll?"

— favourite thing about you:

how reserved but fun you are. how do i explain this? Arthur is someone whose personality has many layers and so are you. you are a complex person who can appreciate that trait in him as well instead of getting turned off when he displays the rougher side of himself. so your understanding, trust, commitment? i think you catch my drift (◕ᴗ◕✿)

♫︎ music box

— I Hear a Symphony by Cody Fry

— Help! by The Beatles

— I'd Die For You by Bon Jovi

— Good Old-Fashioned Lover Boy by Queen

— Castle on the Hill by Ed Sheeran

♡︎ runner up: Toris Lorinaitis

that is all! thank you so much for requesting and being patient with my slow butt! please remember to take time off to relax and drink water ♡︎

#len's matches #matchups #anime matchups #hetalia matchups #lunar-calliope

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fromthewifecage · 4 years

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Muscly, strong Kombatants (aka: Bench press me Daddy!)

Anonymous asked a question can i request a strength kink with the mortal kombat kast? like, the reader has a strength kink if that makes sense! I have to admit that this stumped me. I hope that what I have written is ok, it has become about strength and muscles, and I managed 3 kombatants as it quickly became really long. I did initially come up with a very silly premise where Kitana hosts an ‘Outworld’s Strongest Kombatant’ kompetition instead of Mortal Kombat ( a parody of the World’s Strongest Man competition). Maybe once I have finished my Erron Black piece (and that should be up hopefully tomorrow!) and finish my Bi-Han Ask for the amazing @tomoka0013 (which may take a good while, sorry!!!) then I will attempt it. This Ask features Erron Black, Johnny Cage and Bi-Han (I know, no Kano?! I just couldn’t make anything work.) The Bi-Han portion is inspired by conversations with @tomoka0013 and her own work (which you really must read if you don’t already). Erron Black: You wouldn’t think a man like Erron would be quite as muscular as he is, but beneath those outfits he has thickly muscled arms that make your heart pound dangerously hard, and you find yourself shamefully wet/hard when he first strips off his shirt in your company. Outworld is hot and humid and Erron is has no problem losing his clothes. If his shirt gets sweaty then it’ll restrict his movement, so he has no qualms in stripping down to just a pair of jeans, his boots, and of course, his hat. He’s no idiot either and he knows what his physique does to those around him. Eyes widen as he tugs up his shirt to reveal washboard abs, a trim waist and hip bones that tug the gaze downward. Lips catch between teeth to stifle a moan as material slides over tanned skin and he arches his back before tossing his shirt aside. People lose their train of thought and end up babbling inanity, and when you’re a hunter like Erron, disarming your prey is always going to help you claim a bounty. More after the cut!!!!!!

Kotal Kohn has asked you to fetch Erron from his hut that lies deep into the secluded woods on the edges of the Palace grounds. Erron prefers to stay out of the way of others, he’s been around people for so long that he’s tired of inane chatter. Every so often he’ll invite someone back to the cabin and they’ll spend a long weekend indulging in each others pleasure, but he’s not a man for long relationships, or so you’ve told yourself. You pass through lush undergrowth, birds call to one another and insects of every colour dart from flower to flower collecting nectar. As you draw closer to the cabin you hear the rhythmic sound of what you hope is Erron hard at work at the wood block, rather than jungle inhabitants beheading wayward travellers on their way to pass messages to handsome bounty hunters. Pushing past a final clump of spiked fronds and branches, you are greeted by the wonderous (and almost overwhelmingly erotic) sight of a shirtless Erron (still wearing his hat of course), attacking a wood pile with a huge axe. “Hey, darlin’.” He calls out without turning towards you and brings his axe around in an arc to splice the log in front of him into halves. “Oh, hey.” You’re quite impressed you got out some words that weren’t ‘By the Elder Gods, you’re beautiful!.’ “Kotal sent ya?” Another log is cleaved in two but you don’t really notice. You can’t take your eyes off the way his back muscles ripple when he swings the axe, his biceps bulging and the roll of his hips as he swings the axe. “Mmmm hmmm”. Your eyes follow the curve of his beautiful ass as he bends to tug the axe from the tree stump. Erron chuckles at your open admiration for him and when you tear your eyes from his ass he gives you a wink and a filthy grin that makes all sorts of tingly feelings stir deep inside. “Now look at me distractin’ you from your errand, haven’t I been a bad boy? Come on, darlin’, gonna help me put these logs on the pile?” His voice is deep and teasing and wriggles a fiery trail through your insides like cheap booze. It takes a huge effort to swallow down the whimper that wants to escape your mouth when Erron nods you towards a large wood pile at the side of his cabin. You trot after him and pluck a few logs from the ground, but they’re heavy and you’re slightly worried that some Outworld earwigs have made the logs their home and might bite. Erron chuckles again and fills your arms with wood, then grabs you by the hips and gives you a gentle push in the direction of the stacked wood pile. You drop half the wood in surprise at his handling of you, and drop another few logs on your way to the pile, so it takes you both a while to transport all the wood to the pile. Erron grabs the larger hunks of wood, hefting them over his shoulder seemingly with no effort whatsoever, making sure he catches your eye every time he plucks another log from the ground, making sure to bend over a lot and flex his biceps. When the task is finally done you’re both laughing at each other. Erron laughing at how red you’ve gotten, your hair sticking to your forehead and your top molding to your chest and back. You laughing at him increasingly showing off just how strong he is whilst trying oh so very hard not to notice the beads of sweat that slide down his tanned skin, following over every muscle and being frustrated by his jeans being in the way from seeing everything you want. “Ugh, finished, tired, hot.” You puff out a long and exhausted breath. “Oh, we haven’t started yet, Sweetheart.” Erron grins then plucks you off your feet, tossing you over his shoulder, gives you a firm pat on the ass to make you squeal, and makes for the entrance of his cabin. Kotal will have to wait a good while for Erron’s reply. Johnny Cage: Younger!Johnny is perfectly aware of the affect his looks have on people, especially his muscular figure. During photoshoots he loves to hear the muffled gasps from the lighting technicians who had previously feigned nonchalance at being in a room with the biggest movie star in the world. He gives the make-up artist a wink when they can’t hold his gaze and their hands shake when applying the body oil to his amazing chest and thickly muscled arms. He chuckles when the wardrobe assistant doesn’t quite know where to put their hands when they’re adjusting the fit of his trousers so they hug his incredible asscheeks. He is shameless and he doesn’t care. It gets him a lot of sex and from those he doesn’t take to bed, they’re so desperate for him that they’ll do anything for him.

When baby Cassie comes along his worldview does a 180*. He doesn’t have time to think about himself anymore, all he cares about is his child and making sure she is safe and happy. He becomes a greater person, less selfish, more humble, kind and caring. It’s when he picks little!Cassie up from school and hears the whispers and notices the admiring glances from the single parents, (and let’s face it, the not so single ones too) that he remembers his younger days and mentally face palms. Not that an admiring glance is a bad thing, it’s just who he was inside, and he’s glad he’s not him anymore. He notices you giving his physique some admiring glances, your cheeks darkening and the corners of your mouth curling despite your very best efforts to hide your smiles. He respects that you try your very best to hide your feelings for him, but he’s still a cheeky git and sometimes wears his most ass hugging trousers he owns around you just to get you to flush even brighter pink than you normally do. The night after an attack on the Special Forces base by some Black Dragon idiots, a portion of the housing huts lay in rubble and smoke. Johnny is the first out, safety gloves and goggles reluctantly on, but stripped to the waist. His muscles are bulging, biceps shining with beads of sweat as he picks up rebar and joists as if they were made of foam and carries them over to a large skip and tossing them in seemingly with no effort at all in. A quick wipe of his forehead with the back of his glove, a wink at you from behind his goggles, and he’s striding back to the devastation to heft more debris over his shoulder. There gets to be quite a crowd, all of you just gawking at the muscle-bound adonis. Each time he bends over to tug at a chunk of rebar, you sigh in unison at seeing his ass strain at his trousers. When he straightens and hefts the rebar over his shoulder (biceps bulging even more impressively) you each in unconscious unison lift a hand to your mouth as if a delicate Edwardian heroines seeing your brave husband help save poor orphans from a fire started by the cruel Reverend Kano. It’s Cassie who laughingly points out the crowd of “Dad’s groupies” to Johnny. Johnny has been so into the task at hand that he didn’t even notice after a while. He gives a sheepish wave and bows with a flourish, then gets back to clearing the rubble. A rush of heat flares in your cheeks at realising you’ve been doing nothing but staring, and pulls you back into reality. You quickly rush in to help with the effort, pulling on your own pair of gloves and grab at a far lighter chunk of rubble. Later that night a knock on your door rouses you from where you lay dozing on your sofa. You’d spent hours helping out, and tried so very hard not to stare at Johnny and imagine him in spandex and domino mask because, let’s face it, he’s practically a superhero, and only recently got back to your own quarters where you’d stumbled into the shower and flopped on the sofa to doze. Pulling open the door you’re greeted by a smiling Johnny. “Hope I’m not interrupting?” It takes a good few seconds of blinking and dry mouth before you shake your head and motion Johnny to enter. He smells of expensive soap, his hair is still wet from a shower, and fuuuuck, he’s so beautiful you almost whine. “Good.” He winks, then scoops you up in his arms and carries you inside, laughing when you squeak with delight. “Now, maybe I’ve noticed how you’ve been looking at me, and thought we could do something about that?” With ease and an even wider grin, he tosses you back onto the sofa and waits for you reply. You’re not going to turn him down, are you? Bi-Han: Bi-Han takes his rigorous and strenuous training very seriously. His has to live up to his Grandfather’s mantel and show these other arseholes just how fucking amazing he is. He could do it all in the sleep, but he wants to be perfect and that takes effort, so he will train until he knows he is unstoppable, and then he’ll train some more to make those biceps and pecs mesmerisingly perfect. He’s used to jealous looks from the rest of the Lin Kuei; even Sektor can’t hide his seething rage at being inferior to the beautiful cryomancer. After coming second to him in every contest, in every class, Sektor finally loses his fraying hold on his temper and attacks Bi-Han in a futile attempt to prove that he was the star pupil of the Lin Kuei, not this upstart orphan. Sektor ends up in the infirmary, (almost the morgue) with an enormous spike of ice through his chest and his ego wounded even more viciously. Bi-Han goes back to training after calmly placating the Grandmaster, who is quite understandably worried that his son Sektor may die. Bi-Han is not just physically gifted, he can charm his way out of almost any situation, and with a few words and some first class acting talent, he assures the Grandmaster that Sektor made a grave error and Bi-Han was simply doing what he had been trained, to defend himself and the honour of the Lin Kuei. Bi-Han calmly focuses and calls ice to form between his moving hands, ordering it to form wickedly sharp spikes. His biceps bulge with the effort, his teeth gritting and every muscle in his body quivers as he draws the ice into the form he demands. Targets spring into life around him and he leaps, turning not only himself through the air but also the ice spikes, fanning them out with incredible accuracy at the cloth and wood dummies. He lands on the balls of his feet then backflips when another target appears, his hands fanning out to direct a spray of ice to freeze the target solid. Targets appear from opposite directions, but Bi-Han calmly moves to brutally kick the head from one whilst plunging a conjured ice dagger into the throat of the other, then leaping forward to aim a powerful kick at the head of the frozen target. The target explodes in a spray of ice and sawdust innards and the graceful assassin lands behind the headless sagging dummy, ready for whatever is next. He never lets up, never pauses, never allows himself to be left open for even a single moment. He is magnificent and beautiful and your eyes can’t look anywhere else but at his heavily muscled frame. He wears but a thin layer of material, allowing you the gift of watching his muscles move and strain beneath the tunic. He is both graceful and yet so powerful. He lifts giant hunks of ice that likely weight more than he does, and toss them at targets with pin point precision. He forms frozen weapons and shields without even pausing to wipe the thin layer of sweat that forms on his brow and dampens the back of his tunic to emphasise his muscular frame. You take a breath and blink, suddenly aware the sun must have gone down hours ago and you’ve been watching Bi-Han training all that time. As you breathe out your breath fogs white into the night air, all the warmth from the earlier sunshine has gone. You’re wearing a similar and equally thin tunic to Bi-Han, and you’re absolutely fucking freezing. You look at the sky to try to gage the time and when you look back to the training arena, Bi-Han has disappeared. “Shouldn’t you be training rather than spending all your time staring at me?” Bi-Han’s imposingly tall form moves out from the shadows beside you, startling you. He smirks at having startled you. “You really should be training, a simple trick like that should never catch you off guard.” You nod, ashamed of being caught out so easily. “First, we’ll eat. I should celebrate my earlier victory over Sektor.” He cocks his head, waiting for your reaction, wondering if you would agree or take Sektor’s side. “Sektor was an arrogant fool, he got what was coming to him.” Although you were new to the Lin Kuei, Sektor had not impressed you like Bi-Han had. The Cryomancer laughs and flashes a wicked smile, then grasps your hand, turning you before pushing you against the stone wall behind you. “You are really quite desperate for me, aren’t you?” The night is cold enough but Bi-Han radiates a cold you hadn’t experienced before. When his breath touches your face, ice crystals form on your skin to feel like hundreds of faint kisses. You feel the chill in your lungs with every breath you take and every hair on your body stands on end. If you weren’t so utterly in love with this man you’d run, but you can’t, you don’t want to, all you want is here before you. He leans in closer and he’s such a tall and imposing man that when he bears down on you he’s all that you can see. “Yes.” Your admission delights Bi-Han and he uses your surprise at a sudden burst of laughter to grab you by the waist then heft you over his shoulder. “First we’ll eat, then we’ll fuck.”

#Mortal Kombat #Mortal Kombat Ask #Mortal Kombat Headkanons #Mortal Kombat Headcanons #Erron Black #Johnny Cage #Bi-Han #OG Sub-Zero #AskFromTheWifeCage

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floralege · 4 years

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everybuddy for the ship meme!

who asks the other on dates: elliot only has a mild complex about not being as cool as a vampire, so he tries to plan special dates for lauren. pru and del have regular date nights to catch up and shit talk everything going on ; bee, camille, and meg do the same, just under fancier reservations. meg likes to call up tj and tell him that he’s planned a wonderful date night for them at random.

who is the bigger cuddler: caia is big on cuddling even if she’s icy cold, so jimmy needs lots of blankets. ian knows it’s inappropriate to cuddle but it’s also not his fault if he notices that cecile looks chilly and he wants to keep her warm! fern and ethan got drunk, passed out, and woke up cuddling. they decided to never speak of it.

who initiates holding hands more often: mick loves holding hands, so he’d always reach out for delphine. same w soft as jack who just likes feeling kimber’s touch! emiliana allowed simon to hold her hand a few times so now he just always tries in the hopes that she’ll give in at some point. duffy still gets nervous about holding vee’s hand but in a very sweet way.

who remembers anniversaries: liam and fern pick one day a year to get free cake and drinks at the nearest restaurant by playing up the anniversary schtick, though they’ve mostly forgotten the actual dates. elliot remembers everything but he’s trying not to be so human about it because he knows time is a much different concept for lauren. grady remembered every single anniversary, the problem is that he though sending a gift a reasonable way to not actually spend time with cecile.

who is more possessive: rome and gideon, big time. liam and fern. mick and delphine, but they try to joke about it. arlo gives a little side eye whenever someone chats up coco at the bar but he tries to ignore it. maybe nik n nora? ginny only feels possessive of lil when they’re in the same vicinity. esme is EXTREMELY possessive of olivia, which is probably a big problem for them!

who gets more jealous: same as above but also add in pru, who is literally losing her mind every time she has to see bee and adam in the papers. adam gets a little annoyed whenever he sees mick and del. i’m sure fern, ethan, and liam will become a stupid web. daphne and sid.

who is more protective: i know he’s a bastard man but simon was actually v protective of cecile when she was alive. ian, obviously. the vamps are a hot mess but they’d kill for one another. the same for temperance and lilith. freddie and hannah, arlo and coco.

who is more likely to cheat: WELL i think we’ve noted that pru and delphine are experts at this. same with sadie, even if it still haunts her. elliot’s the only one in his own band and crew that knows any sense of fidelity and loyalty. everyone sleeps together okay! meg skirts around cheating by never definitively claiming to be anything, while also demanding all girlfriend perks.

who initiates sexy times the most: cilla is, at all times, trying to sleep with henry. i’m sure delphine knows exactly what to do get mick worked up. pru’s personal aphrodisiac is seeing brigitte in her office, so lots of times there. johnny slip his hand up cam’s skirt in public a lot. it’s tradition that rome and gideon don’t say hello, they just fuck on the nearest surface and i think that’s beautiful. marilyn went without for months so emile gets pulled aside a lot.

who dislikes PDA the most: grady’s probably the only who’s more subdued about it, but the rest pack it on happily! also camille when anyone tries touching her in public.

who asks the the other to marry them: EVERYONE IS GETTING MARRIED ! mick would ask delphine in a heartbeat but he knows her answer already. fred and hannah. elliot’s been googling if vampires can get married outside of their species and he insists it’s just a joke. i’m sure cilla will piss off the world and elope w henry. daisy’s sort of content with having a relaxed love life for the first time possibly ever.

who buys the other flowers or gifts: adam likes being papped buying the biggest bouqet of roses before stopping by bee’s place. fern gifts liam w cool lighters she finds around venues. jack compiles positive reviews of kimber’s bakery to hang around the walls.

who would bring up possibly having kids: elliot broaches the subject but he understands why it goes NOWHERE. gideon and rome already have two quasi - children of their own. caia would actually love a family with jimmy but has no idea how that even works.

who is more nervous to meet the parents: cilla comes from a long line of demons so she’s anxious about meeting henry’s family. dinners with jules inspire a certain sense of fear in mick. arlo has a morbid curiosity about coco’s family but he sticks with just knowing nik for now.

who sleeps on the couch when the other is angry: after particularly nasty fights, emmy sends dominic to sleep in the guest bedroom on the farthest end of the penthouse. pru sleeps on the couch but it’s so comfortable that she actually doesn’t mind. cam sends johnny to the couch in his own apartment.

who tries to make up first after arguments: if they ever have any disagreements, temperance knows enough of lilith’s history to apologize right off the bat ( ginny, on the other hand, likes making things worse ) gideon’s always the first to seek out rome. jack and kimber are over their fights within ten minutes.

who tells the other they love them more often: elliot always sends ‘thinking of you x’ texts and postcards. drunk cilla is the most affection person in the world. ian tries to say it constantly, but he’s too enamored with their connection to potentially ruin it. fred/cam and fred/hannah naturally. honestly EVERYONE expresses it in some way.

#honestly we have so many i lose TRACK and my brain goes to mush #anyway this is long #orumad #* ♡ . ━━━ ◜ ships ／ orumad .

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briyourmotherdown · 5 years

Text

Put On A Show, Darling- Chapter 3

Pairing: Brian May, Fem!Reader

Word count: 3489

Warnings: Language, SLIGHT angst

Description: You and Brian have been best friends for over five years now, and you’ve loved him during most of that time. While you’ve been agonising over your hidden feelings, Brian’s gone and got himself a girlfriend. A serious one.

A/N: Hey everyone! I hope this chapter is a LITTLE bit better written than the first two. I just started college again and I’m finding it hard to find inspiration for this, but I really want to continue. I feel like I wanted more of a slow burn and I’m going to get through it too quickly, but this IS my first fic I've written. Bear with me! Please!

<><><>

The weeks pass, and February melts away like the frost in the air, flowers blooming in between the cracks in the sidewalk, and the breeze carrying a certain warmth you desperately missed. Summer has arrived in full swing, the trees becoming green once again and the windows of your apartment open most hours of the day to let the sweet scent of blossoms float in. Life is everywhere, new beginnings and revitalised pasts.

That includes Brian and Dani’s relationship.

With every passing day the pair grew closer, with either the flat being just you and the crackling blues in the confines of its chipped walls, or filled with an extra occupant with a high pitched laugh and annoyingly good skin.

You prefer the days alone, if you’re to be honest. At least then you have other things to do. You’re out at work anyway, only home in the evening time. Of course some nights feel eerily quiet, and painfully lonely. Those are the nights where you desperately miss the competitive scrabble games and copious cups of tea, the sound of his triumphant laugh whenever he’d come up with some ridiculous word that would have you digging out the dictionary.

The last game you played, he had won with the word ‘anfractuous’.

But on those nights, you tend to distract yourself in as many ways as possible. You’ve finished multiple books, baked quite a few trays of cookies and other pastries, and even knitted a bloody scarf. You can’t even wear that scarf anymore due to the temperature rising. So it sits in the wooden crate tucked away underneath the coffee table, along with the abandoned Scrabble box.

Everyday felt even harder, and you made a conscious effort to put distance between you and Brian as he and Dani got closer. It wasn’t fair to anyone. Not to you, with the deepening cracks in your heart, not to Brian, who didn’t realise that he was hurting his best friend, and not to Dani, who obviously made Brian happy.

You spent less time in the flat and more time reading in the library or in quaint cafes, anywhere that didn’t feel suffocating with memories of Brian, but you still couldn’t ignore the tight hollowness in your chest at the absence of your best friend. Unrequited lover or not, you still missed his presence. Someone you could rely on, someone you could always trust to be your voice of reason in the worst situations.

And you miss your shared flat. You miss being able to spend so much time in that dusty old place, with all it’s cracked paint and leaking pipes. You miss the small nook in the kitchen next to the window where you always read as he tinkered away on his guitar. You miss the small houseplants that the both of you try desperately to keep alive, and just about manage.

You wonder about those plants, though it’s such an insignificant thought. You wonder if he’s watered them. You haven’t been checking. Maybe they’ve wilted. God, please don’t let them have wilted.

The rain was slashing against the windows of the grand old library, the sticky mid-summer humidity pasting the pages of old books together and emitting a musty smell that was almost overbearing. You’ve been waiting out the rain for nearly twenty minutes, though it showed no sign of stopping. All you want is a warm pan au chocolat from the small independent cafe across the street, and you want it without getting soaked through by the rain.

But you really want that pan au chocolat, and that cafe bakes the best ones you’ve ever had, and maybe getting your hair wet and tangled will be worth it.

So with a determined huff, you sling your bag over your shoulder and stomp out of that library like a girl on a mission, straight out of the revolving doors and into the heavy downpour. It’s even worse than it was before, coming down in thick sheets and instantly sticking your hair flat to your head as you run across the street. You let out a pathetic squeak as a crack of thunder sounds from above you, and you hurtle through the door of the cafe, capturing some dismayed stares. It doesn’t matter though, when the smell of baked goods greets you like a warm hug, and your stomach growls.

You order your precious pan au chocolat and a cup of tea, before taking a seat next to the big store-front window. You notice that the window is beginning to steam up slightly, and you draw a little smiley face in the condensation. The small gesture makes you smile to yourself, but it’s replaced with a small frown as Brian flashes through your mind. You wonder where he is, what he’s doing. Who he’s with. You shudder, trying to shake the thought from your reverie.

A plate and a cup are placed before you, and you thank the young teenage girl as she shoots you a gentle smile. The flaky pastry is a welcome distraction, as is the low chatter of the people around you, and the faint clatter of mugs behind the counter.

All feels normal for a few minutes. The flavour of sweet chocolate on your tongue, a book now held in between your fingers, but peace is always short lived.

The door opens, a mist of rain carried in on the harsh wind as another customer enters the cafe, hood covering their face from the storm. They walk past you and to the register, mumbling their order. Their voice is familiar, a gentle and low tone that has you tensing up.

The hood is pulled down, a wild mane of humidity-frizzed curls making your eyes widen. It’s the man you were hoping you could avoid for at least a little while longer, at least long enough for you to finish your bloody cup of tea.

He turns his head in your direction, and you gasp quietly and lift your book in attempt to hide your face. You try your best to focus on the words on the weathered pages, but the book is held much too close for your eyes to focus, especially since you left your glasses back at the flat.

You hear him mumble his thanks to the cashier, and you silently pray that he doesn’t see you, or at least spares you the embarrassment of approaching you. But your favourite dirty white trainers on your feet give you away, or maybe it’s the patches sewn onto your bag that you both collected together, and you screw your eyes shut as you hear his voice.

“Y/N?”

The book is lowered from your face slowly, and every feeling you’ve been trying to push from your thoughts comes rushing back like the rain outside.

He looks almost ethereal, and the air is knocked from your lungs as your lips part slightly. He’s wearing a dark grey hoodie that manages to engulf his broad frame, the hood and shoulders splattered with raindrops. His pale brown eyes seem lighter, brightened by the cool rain that misted against his skin just moments before.

“Hi…?” A sheepish smile adorns your lips, feeling caught red-handed.

“You’ve been avoiding me.”

He slumps into the leather armchair across from you, placing his bag down by his feet. His legs are much too long for the small table, so his shoes nudge against yours.

“Have I?”

His cup of coffee is set in front of him, and he flashes the same teenage girl from earlier a smile, to which she blushes and scurries off. You watch her back as she retreats, wishing that you could do the same. Brian turns back to face you, his smile fading into a disapproving frown. You squirm, picking up your cup of tea and sipping nervously.

“Yes, Y/N, you have. Why?”

“I haven’t been avoiding you…” You lie, picking at a loose thread on your jeans, “I’ve just been busy lately.”

He sighs, picking up his coffee cup but not yet drinking it, just warming his hands.

“I don’t believe you. You don’t have class, it’s summer. And you can’t be working 24/7, so what could possibly be making you so busy that you’re never home?”

You know you’ve been caught, and you scan over his face in silence before looking down into your cup.

When you don’t answer, he sighs through his nose and looks out of the window. A few beats of silence pass. The air between you feels awkward, thick. So many words haven’t been said, but you simply can’t bring yourself to voice them.

“You’ve been acting strange for a few months now, I just want to know what’s been going on...if you’ve been okay.”

His tone is gentle, laced with such genuine concern that you feel your heart swell momentarily. God, you miss him.

“I...I’ve been-, I’m fine, Bri.” You’re not sure what to say. What could you say?

It’s his turn to stay quiet now, hazel eyes analysing your every move, trying to pick up on any body language or expression that could give him a hint to why his best friend has been so distant.

“It’s my family.” You blurt out another lie. The lying is coming much too easy at this point, but they tumble out one after another with no sign of stopping.

“Or more so my dad.” You hate yourself for lying to him, and you hate that he’s believing you.

He is aware of your relationship with your dad being more on the dysfunctional side. He knows the way your dad treats you, and he’s been there to comfort you with a bowl of popcorn and cheesy rom-coms after your dad had said some particularly harsh things.

You feel as though you are taking advantage of Brian’s kindness by lying to him about something so personal. You know he wouldn’t even imagine that you’d lie about something like this. Your stomach churns uncomfortably.

“Oh Y/N,” He leans forward to rest his elbows on the table, a look of sympathy on his face, not pity. Brian never pitied you. It’s one of the things you love so much about him.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I guess I just wanted to handle things on my own.”

That one wasn’t a lie, it’s just not referring to the situation with your father, but the situation regarding your feelings towards the man in front of you.

He sighs, clasping his hands together and pressing them to his lips in thought. You’ve seen this look before, you can practically see the cogs turning in his head.

“Let’s go for a walk.”

Your eyebrows furrow at his diversion, “It’s raining.”

“C’mon, a little rain never hurt anybody!”

He stands up, holding his hand out for you to take, a wide smile overtaking his features. For a moment things feel normal, like it was just you and your best friend, and your smile grows to match his when you take his hand.

The rain is still coming down heavy, but you don’t care as you both run hand in hand down the street, bumping into pedestrians every now and then and giggling out “Sorry!”s along the way. The air is warm, sticky, but you’ve never felt more invigorated as wind blows in your face and whips at your hair. You both look at each other and laugh, real, bellowing laughs as you sprint down Southbank alongside the rushing Thames.

“Where are we going?” You yell through your laughs, your trainers and jeans soaked through. You struggle to keep up with him due to the sheer length of his legs. He’s all long limbs, and damn can he move fast.

“Anywhere!” He replies, eyes bright and wide.

You run until your lungs begin to ache, but the adrenaline keeps you going as does his hand in yours, pulling you forward down the pavement. Much to your gratitude, he turns you both down the next street, slowing to a stop underneath the overhang of a dimly lit alleyway.

You’re practically pressed against him in the narrow passage way, and you flush, panting to regulate your breathing. A smile remains on his lips, his chest heaving from exertion, puffs of air hitting your forehead as he gazes down at you. It’s quiet for a moment, only the sounds of cars whooshing through puddles and the distant city sound of perpetual sirens.

But then he starts to laugh, beginning as a giggle as you look at him questioningly. Your perplexed face only sends him into fits of laughter, and you can’t help but join him.

“What’s so funny?” You giggle.

“You look like a wet rat.”

You gasp in faux shock, pressing a hand to your heart and narrowing your eyes at him.

“And you look like a drowned poodle!” You retort, and he shakes his head with a grin, some droplets of water dripping down the bridge of his nose and falling onto his lips.

He reaches out to tuck the hair stuck to your forehead behind your ears, and your breath hitches. It’s a simple gesture, but you relish in the way he fingertips graze your cold cheek as he drops his hand back down to his side.

“That was fun,” You clear your throat, breaking the tension, “but why are we here?”

His smile falters momentarily, just long enough for you to notice, but he quickly plasters it back on, wider than before.

“Wanted to cheer up my best mate.” He pokes your side and you flinch at the ticklish sensation.

You hide your frown at the word ‘mate’.

“Well, thank you.” You genuinely smile at him. He was too sweet for his own good, and you know he’d never intentionally hurt you like he has been.

He shifts his weight to his other foot, knee nudging yours as he tries to get comfortable against the brick wall.

“I also wanted to invite you somewhere, but I wanted to make sure you weren’t avoiding me first.”

You nod as his cue to continue.

“There’s a party at Fred and Rogers’ place tomorrow night, and it wouldn’t be the same without you there.”

You part your lips to reply, but for some reason he’s nervous, cutting off your reply to ramble, “I know you’ve been a little bit down with your dad lately, but I really think you should come, have some fun.”

“Brian I-”

“Dani and Vee will be there too, and obviously the rest of the band, so you won’t be alone-”

You frown at the mention of Dani,

“I’d-”

“I’ve just missed my best friend and need you to be there to-”

“Brian!” You raise your voice, cutting off his rambling with a breathy laugh, your hands pressed against both of his cheeks to stop him.

He looks down at you expectantly, eyes widened and glassy like a lost puppy, and you stroke your thumb over his skin, feeling light stubble.

“I’ll be there, Bri. Wouldn’t miss it.”

He lifts his hand up to cup yours on his cheek, and for a moment you feel lost. You aren’t sure if it’s in a good way or not, but you feel as though you’re one of those characters in Brian’s beloved sci-fi novels. Floating through space, lost.

You awkwardly sniffle, pulling your hands away and playing it off as if you needed to scratch an itch on the tip of your nose.

He turns his head to the side, clenching his jaw before turning back to you and smiling,

“Good.”

The pair of you walk home as the rain eases into a light drizzle, the orange toned street lamps flickering on and mist rising from the sidewalks. Everything shifts back to normal, as if you haven’t barely spoken for months and as if there isn’t a palpable tension between you two over a topic Brian is seemingly clueless to.

“I’ve missed you, you know.” Brian admits after the conversation fizzles into a comfortable silence, the sounds of his shoes scuffing against the concrete. He holds his hands in his pockets, turning ever so slightly to glance at you.

“I’ve missed you too, Bri.” You smile softly up at him, tightening your grip around the straps of your bag on you shoulder, “I’m sorry that I’ve been so...aloof.”

He shakes his head, “Don’t be sorry, I understand...especially with your dad and everything,”

Your stomach clenches as he continues, guilt nibbling away at your insides.

“I just wish you would’ve told me. You know I’m always here for you, don’t you? Always.”

You look down at your rain soaked feet, “I know you are.”

He grins again, pointy canines poking out from beneath his lips, “Come on then. We both need to get changed before we catch our deaths.”

The night continues as old friends picking up where you left off, the scrabble board now dusted off and in use once again. It feels good, so good to have Brian back, even if it’s only for one night, and even if you’re trying your best to imagine a world where he never met Dani.

You won scrabble that night. Your winning word being ‘anguished’. Ironic, really.

But as they say, all good things come to an end, and that rainy Thursday evening faded into yawns and fluttering eyelids, casting pale blue light through the window panes as the first birds of Friday sing their song.

Things feel strange as you open your eyes, a sort of uneasy pressure settling on your chest and pressing down. It could only be described as dread, but you couldn’t quite put your finger on its cause. The flat is quiet sans the gentle hum of the boiler, signalling that Brian is still asleep. It must be early still.

You lay in bed, staring up at the ceiling as you try to create patterns out of the water stains. Your mind is whirring, racing with too many thoughts, trying to decipher this sick feeling in the pit of your stomach and what it could possibly mean.

It’s almost suffocating, allowing your thoughts to overtake you as you lay cocooned in a mountain of sheets, and the pressure on your chest only worsens.

You need to get up.

Your muscles ache as you sit up, and your bones click when you press your feet against the floor. Life is simply taking it out of you, stealing away your youth and crushing any energy you once had.

06:13 am.

The grogginess persists as you make your way into the kitchen and flick the kettle on, hoping that some caffeine will help to ease your discomfort. It’s still relatively dark out, the not yet fully risen sun aided by the overcast clouds that continue from yesterday’s rain. You don’t mind the darkness, if anything, it allows you to wallow in your low mood. Some would say that’s self destructive, but you find that if you allow yourself to really feel something, you can accept it and let it go.

You yawn as you reach your hand into the cupboard to grab a cup, hand freezing on top of Brian’s favourite mug. You deliberate making him a cup, as you usually would, but your hand drifts over to your favourite mug instead. You don’t feel like you could face Brian just yet today. At least not until this uneasy feeling in your stomach subsides.

Your cup is set down on the small nook table next to the window, a draft seeping through the cracks in the window pane and causing you to pull your hoodie closer to your body. Your head feels heavy, foggy, but the slow rise of the sun manages to distract you long enough to finish your cup of tea. The floorboards creak across the apartment, and you can hear Brian’s footsteps as he wakes up, the door opening soon after.

You guess you’ve got no choice but to face him now.

“Morning.” He mumbles, sleepily rubbing at his eyes. You hum in response, taking in his messy curls from sleep and his lazy smile. It falls quiet as he goes to make himself tea, neither of you talking as a moment passes.

“We should do something today, before the party.” He breaks the silence, causing you to nearly jump out of your skin.

You don’t respond, only raising your brows. He’s used to you acting as such in the morning though, as you often are too exhausted to speak at this hour.

“Okay, let me rephrase,” he brews his tea, “we’re going to do something today. As in, I’ve already planned it, so you have to come.”

“What are we doing?” You ask, voice scratchy.

“You’ll see.” Brian grins, glancing out of the window to where the sun has risen and is warming up the pavements below, “Just bring a swimsuit.”

#queen #Brian may #Brian May x reader #fem!reader #queen fic #angst #unrequited #ahhh #here we go again #I suck lol

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caedmonfaith · 5 years

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The Admirer

Rose has no idea who has been leaving pink and yellow roses on her desk every morning before class. She knows who she wants it to be, but that's impossible. Who, then?

Twelve/Rose, professor/student/university AU. rated M, updates on Mondays and Thursdays starting June 10!

Read it on ao3!

Spring Term, 2019

Rose’s astronomy class was early, 8am, and most of the time she wore her comfiest of socially acceptable clothes when she went. Jeans and jumpers, usually, her hair pulled into a messy ponytail. Occasionally, when she was exceptionally tired or running late, she wouldn’t even bother with makeup.

She was capable of looking much better, but she wasn’t interested in trying to catch the eye of any of her classmates - certainly not at that ungodly hour. She was too bleary to care about blokes, really, at stupid o’clock in the morning. Besides that, she’d sworn them off when she started uni, determined to graduate with her first - and without distraction.

The one bloke she did have her eye on was utterly unattainable. Her astronomy professor - Dr. Ian Docherty, or ‘the Doctor’, as he was known around campus - was significantly older than Rose, utterly brilliant, and handsome as sin, to boot, with his sharp features and salt-and-pepper hair. That wasn’t even taking into consideration that she was a student in his class twice a week until the end of the semester. There was no point in her even entertaining the thought of a relationship with him or that her crush might be reciprocated, so she didn’t. She just trudged to class, taking her customary seat on the front row, determined to keep her head down, keep her crush under control, and to pass with the highest grade she could muster.

Every Tuesday and Thursday morning for the first two months of the term, Rose had filed into her lecture along with her fifty classmates and made her way to her seat. On this particular morning in early March, however, she froze when her desk came into sight.

Lying on it was a single pink and yellow rose, wrapped in green florist’s paper with a little pink ribbon tied around it. Her eyes darted around the room as she tried to assess whether she’d mistakenly gone to the wrong class or was on the wrong row - something. But no, she was definitely in the right place - all the faces surrounding her were familiar and it was definitely the Doctor at the front of the room.

She approached the desk curiously, eyes locked on the rose, and noticed a little note attached to the ribbon. Looking around the room one more time, she didn’t see anyone watching her, so she unfolded the paper. In careful block script, it read, Just wanted to brighten the day of the girl who brightens mine every Tuesday and Thursday.

There was no name, but Rose felt herself flushing with happiness anyway, a smile blooming across her face. Then she realized the absolute lack of care she’d put into her appearance and was mortified. Her face scarlet, she sat down in her seat and tried to act like everything was normal.

By the time of her next astronomy class, Rose had convinced herself that the flower on her desk had to have been a fluke, or a practical joke. She forced herself to go in the same comfy clothes she always wore - although she did make sure to wear some makeup and style her hair nicely. All the way there, she warned herself sternly not to put any stock into the flower that had been left for her last time. It wouldn’t happen again. There was no way.

Except when Rose started down the aisle towards the front of the lecture hall and her seat, there was another pink and yellow rose in green paper with a pink bow lying on her desk. Her steps quickened to get to it, and she grabbed it up before she even dropped her bag, reading the note.

Your smile last time was so lovely, I just had to see it again. Thank you for making this early class a pleasure.

Rose looked around the classroom, hoping to see someone watching her. Again, it looked like everyone was going about their business and she was forgotten. She sank down into her chair, feeling lighter than air, and did her best to pay attention to the lecture. Between the rose and her typical wayward thoughts about her lecturer, it wasn’t easy to concentrate.

The following Tuesday, at her next class, there was another rose. The note this time simply said, You’re beautiful, but even just those two words made her feel like she was dancing on sunshine.

Nine more classes came and went, as did nine more pink and yellow roses in green paper with pink bows. Rose kept the notes handy so she could look at them any time she needed a lift. All of them were sweet, some of them encouraging, and each one made her feel like she was glowing inside.

At night, when she crawled into bed and tiredness made her mind more likely to wander, she let herself entertain the little fantasy that her secret crush and her admirer were one and the same - then she would scoff to herself and roll over. It was highly unlikely that the Doctor, of all people, would harbor feelings for her. He likely didn’t even know her name. To him, she was just a face in the crowd, just another student. Besides that, a man that handsome and intelligent was bound to be taken. She was being foolish, daydreaming about him and his long fingers and his soft brogue.

Still, she dreamed about him bearing pink and yellow roses and baring his soul.

After over a month of receiving flowers and notes, Rose felt a bit stymied by the fact that her admirer could give her a gift and send her a note, but she couldn’t do the same for him (or her). In a burst of inspiration, towards the end of class, she jotted a note down.

Will I ever get to meet you? ~R

She folded the note in half and left it on her desk when the Doctor dismissed class before she could lose her nerve. When she got to the door, she turned to try to see if anyone had grabbed the note, but there were too many people milling around and she couldn’t tell. Suddenly embarrassed, she ducked her head and went home. Maybe trying to reply was stupid. Maybe the wrong person had found the note, some other student who had tossed it in the bin. She was being daft and she knew it.

The next class, the rose was waiting on her desk. Rose took her seat and opened the note eagerly - even though her stomach felt a little queasy - reading the now-familiar handwriting.

I’m afraid I’m not your type of bloke, although I’d love to be.

A man, then. One of her peers. Rose pondered her answer, glancing over the blokes in her class, trying to figure out who would think he wasn’t her type. After considering her response carefully, she wrote her reply note and left it on her desk.

Maybe, maybe not. Let me be the judge of that. I’d at least like to thank the person who’s made me smile every Tuesday and Thursday morning. Do I know you? ~R

That Thursday, Rose opened the note and read, No, but you know of me. You’d recognize my face, but we’ve never spoken.

At the end of class, she’d composed another note. I think we should remedy that. Can I buy you a coffee? ~R

The next few days were interminable. She spent the whole weekend debating whether or not she’d done the right thing, and what she’d do if he actually took her up on her offer. There were only a couple of weeks left in the semester and she was dreading it. For one thing, she’d no longer have the Doctor to ogle and daydream about every Tuesday and Thursday. She was dreading leaving his company, even if he didn’t even know her name. Also, with the end of the semester came the end of the flirtation she’d been enjoying. She very much wanted to know who her admirer was. But had she been too forward?

On Tuesday another rose greeted her, along with another note.

I’d love nothing more than to get to know you better, Rose Tyler. But I’m afraid.

Of what? ~R

Her answer was waiting for her on Thursday. Afraid I’ll disappoint you. I’m no pretty boy.

Rose wrote that day’s note right away, without pondering as she usually did. I’m a bit hurt that you think me so shallow. In my three years at uni, I’ve only really been interested in one bloke, and he’s not at all what you would call a ‘pretty boy’. ~R

The following Tuesday, the note read, I certainly don’t think you’re shallow. It’s my own insecurity.

Please don’t feel that way. Can we meet? Final is next Thursday. Maybe we could study together? ~R

If we’re to do this, I think it would be best to wait until after the module has ended. That way, neither of us gets (any more) distracted. Is that alright?

Rose huffed in frustration, then wrote back. Yes, that’s probably wise, although very frustrating. I’m impatient. Can we meet Thursday night, after the final? ~R

On Tuesday, the day of exam prep, she got his reply attached to the pink and yellow rose. Yes. Let’s meet for coffee, as you suggested. I’ll be at the Bad Wolf Tea Shoppe at 8pm. You’ll know me because I’ll have Thursday’s rose with me. After you meet me, if you want, we can go stargazing.

She bit her lip and wrote out her response. I’m sure I’ll want to. Can’t wait to meet you. ~R

Thursday morning, when she came in for the exam, there was simply a note there, no rose. She opened it as she took her seat. Good luck on the exam. See you tonight. x

“See you tonight,” she whispered to the room at large, biting her lip on a smile, then pulling her head out of the clouds to focus on her last class with the Doctor and the final exam.

@}-->--------

9 May 2019

Rose dressed with great care that night to go see her admirer, not wanting to overdress, but wanting to look better than she usually did during class. She finally decided that she’d stick out if she were to wear something fancy, so she settled on skinny jeans with a flowy blouse, her prettiest casual outfit. Her flatmate, Amy, lent her a necklace to match and she felt as pretty as she ever did.

Her nerves were a riot as she made her way to the little tea shoppe, and she did her best to brace herself for what she may find when she got there. There had been almost sixty blokes in her astronomy module, so she had a hard time narrowing it down. She knew who she’d like it to be, of course, but that wasn’t realistic or possible and she pushed the thought out of her head. Whoever this person was, she was grateful to them and was looking forward to spending an evening getting to know them. It couldn’t possibly be the Doctor, that was absurd, but whoever it was was obviously a nice person who’d made her semester brighter.

Blimey, she was nervous.

When she stepped into the Bad Wolf, feeling as if she were about to jump out of her skin, she was surprised to see the Doctor sitting there, as if he’d manifested himself directly from her daydream. His tall, lanky frame was folded into a chair at a table and his sharp features wore an expression she’d never seen before. He looked… tense. Anxious. The low light of the tea shoppe glinted off his dark-rimmed glasses and he mussed his wavy hair when he ran his fingers through it. It was terribly endearing and she bit her lip, feeling a flare of wild hope just from his presence.

He caught sight of her as the door closed, and she couldn’t help but smile back when he smiled at her. It faded a bit when she noticed he didn’t have a pink and yellow rose, but she did her best to shrug that off. She’d known it wasn’t him, and hoping it would be was ridiculous.

Quickly, she glanced around the tea shoppe and didn’t see any other familiar faces, nor anyone with a rose. She checked her watch - she was right on time. Perhaps he was late.

“Miss Tyler,” the Doctor said, greeting her - and taking her completely off guard. She’d had no idea he knew her name. “What a lovely surprise.”

“Hello, Dr. Docherty,” she started, approaching his table.

“Now, enough with that. You’re not in my module anymore, feel free to call me Ian.”

Her heart fluttered in her chest like a butterfly batting against a cage. “Thank you, that’s very kind, although I’ll likely forget and refer to you as the Doctor.”

“Whatever you want to call me is fine.”

She stood awkwardly beside the table, wanting to sit, wanting to flee, having no idea what to do. Deciding she wanted to prolong the joy of talking to him just a bit longer, she asked, “Are you waiting for someone?”

“Ah, in a manner of speaking,” he said, blushing a little, and she tamped down the stab of jealousy that brought on.

“Ah. Well. I’ll leave you be, then. It was—”

“No!” he interrupted her, holding out a hand as if to stop her. Then he seemed to catch himself and withdrew. “I mean, no, you don’t have to leave. Sit, have a coffee. We can chat, if you like.”

Oh, Rose liked. She liked very much. Without allowing herself to think about it too much and trying very hard not to flush, she nodded and pulled out the chair across from him, taking a seat. As much as this moment was a daydream come true, she vowed to excuse herself if she saw a gentleman come in with a pink and yellow rose. She wanted to honor the ‘date’ she’d made for tonight.

“Who are you meeting?” she asked to break the ice. Before she could think better of it, she went on. “Wife? Girlfriend?”

His eyes widened a fraction, then he chuckled and looked away. “No, no, nothing like that. Don’t have one of those.”

It was Rose’s turn for widened eyes. She’d just assumed that a man as handsome as him would at least have a girlfriend, if not a wife. Suddenly, being stood up by her admirer didn’t seem like such a terrible fate.

“How about you?” he asked after the waitress took Rose’s order. “Here to see a boyfriend?”

“Um, no, not really,” she hedged, not really sure how to proceed - or if she even wanted to.

Dr. Docherty raised one eyebrow. “Not really? Yes or no questions tend to have more definitive answers,” he teased.

Rose felt herself flushing again. “I know. Sorry for being vague. It’s a long story, I suppose. I don’t have a boyfriend and haven’t for several years, since before I started uni. But…” She hesitated for a moment, picking at her nails. “There was a bloke. In your astronomy class, actually. He left me a rose on my desk every morning.”

“Ah, yes. I remember seeing the flowers. You’re here for a date with him?”

“Kind of. I don’t know who he is. Sort of a ‘secret admirer’ situation, I suppose. I asked if I could meet him so I could thank him for making me smile this semester.”

“I’m quite sure your smiles were thanks enough,” the Doctor said, eyes twinkling behind his specs.

“Maybe he might think so, but I’d still like to thank him in person. Seems the least I could do.”

There was a silence at the table, then the Doctor broke it. “I don’t see you in any of my other classes, so I assume you’re not an astronomy major.”

Rose laughed. “No, I’m nowhere near clever enough to major in astronomy. I took the class as an elective because I’ve always enjoyed space, but my major is art.”

“Art?” he asked, looking intrigued. “Are you any good?”

She shrugged shyly. “I don’t think so, but I get good marks. I’m hoping to work as a curator - I don’t believe I have the chops to make it as an artist.”

“I’m sure you’re brilliant,” he assured her, and Rose glanced up at him. He looked genuine, even eager. “I’d love to see your work sometime.”

Rose felt a smile blooming across her face. “I’d like to show you sometime. Some of my work this past semester has been inspired by your class, actually.”

“Well, then, I should buy it and display it,” he said with a little note of finality, as if the matter was settled.

“You can have it,” Rose told him quickly, then blushed again. “I mean, I’d like for you to have it.”

He looked a little stunned. “I’ll treasure it always.”

She was sure her face was on fire and glanced down at her coffee.

“When do you graduate?” he asked, clearing his throat and changing the subject.

“December,” she told him. “I’m taking a module during summer term, and then I’ll have three in the autumn. With any luck, I’ll get my first.”

“Well, my class won’t be a hindrance to your first,” he informed her, smiling. “You passed, with flying colors.”

“Really?” she squealed, excited. Her marks had been good, but there was always that nagging worry.

“Really. Better than several of my astronomy majors, in fact.”

Rose let out an excited giggle. The Doctor’s face was more relaxed than it had been all night and she thought him even more handsome than she ever had before. Which was saying something.

The waitress returned with Rose’s drink, then she and the Doctor talked for hours, chatting and laughing about all manner of subjects, getting to know one another better. Spending time with him was so comfortable, so easy, that she nearly forgot all about her admirer - and that was alright. She was entirely too happy in the moment to waste time thinking about anyone else. More than once, their hands brushed against each other at the small table and every time they did, Rose swore she could feel a jolt of electricity shoot straight up her arm. She’d thought she was wild about him before, but that was before she’d spent the evening looking into his blue-green eyes, talking about nothing and everything.

It was a surprise when the waitress came to the table and informed them that the Bad Wolf would be closing in fifteen minutes.

“Blimey,” she marveled. “It’s nearly eleven. We’ve been here three hours! Time got away from me.”

“Your date never showed up,” Ian observed, watching her carefully.

She shrugged. “He must have gotten cold feet or something. But that’s alright. I had a lovely time chatting with you.”

“Oh?”

Her face glowed, but she nodded. “I did. I’d - I’d like to do it again sometime.”

The Doctor looked a little surprised, but terribly pleased. “I’d like that.”

They settled the check quickly and Rose was delighted when he offered his elbow. She slipped her hand into it, smiling up at him, radiantly happy, and they stepped out onto the pavement.

“Do you have anywhere to be?” he asked.

She shook her head. “No, I suppose I’m just going to call it a night.”

“We could walk a while, if you like,” he offered, “and then I’ll walk you home. It’s a lovely night. Shame to waste it.”

She nearly melted into a puddle. “I’d love that.”

They walked all over the city, and after about an hour, when they were at a zebra crossing, the Doctor reached down and took Rose’s hand. She laced her fingers with his and laid her head over on his shoulder. She couldn’t be sure, but she swore she felt his lips press against the top of her head. Rose was grateful he was holding her hand, otherwise she might have floated away.

After a little while longer, they had circled back to where they started. Both had lost track of the time and Rose was surprised when she realized it was almost two am.

Ian pointed out a boxy SUV at the end of the block the tea shoppe was located on.

“That’s my car,” he told her.

“Oh,” Rose said, thinking he meant to call an end to their night. “It’s very nice.”

“I’d still like to walk you home, but there’s something I’d like to grab, if you don’t mind.”

With any other bloke, Rose would assume he was speaking about condoms and thought that walking her home meant she would be sleeping with him. But that didn’t seem right… he’d been an absolute gentleman all night. Surely he didn’t…

Confused, Rose nodded and said, “Alright.”

Ian raised their joined hands and kissed the back of hers, then let go with a “Be right back.” He jogged the last few feet to his car, unlocked it, and leaned inside. She couldn’t see what he was doing, but when he stood back up, he shuffled something behind his back. He locked the door and walked back to Rose. She watched him curiously.

“What are you up to?” she asked when he got close.

He was shifty, not meeting her eye, shuffling from foot to foot, one hand still behind his back. Rose’s curiosity grew.

“Are you alright?”

“I told myself this was stupid, that you wouldn’t appreciate it, but I --” He paused. “I picked these up for you before I got to the tea shoppe. Maybe I’m a fool, but… I want you to have them.”

He brought his hand out from behind his back and Rose was floored to see that he held a large bouquet of pink and yellow roses - at least two dozen. The flowers were wrapped in green florists’ paper and there was a pink bow tied around them. She was shocked into silence, with absolutely no idea what to say. Dumbly, she looked up at Ian. His face was guarded, his entire body tense.

“They’re from you?” she asked.

“Yes.”

“All this term...?”

“All from me. I wanted… At first, I just wanted to see you smile. You should smile all the time, Rose. I love to see you happy. But then you asked to meet and the desire to get to know you was nearly overwhelming. I just… I never believed in ‘first sight’ until you came along. But I felt something the first moment you walked into my class, and --”

He was cut off when Rose threw her arms around him and pressed her lips to his, kissing him firmly. In the space of two heartbeats, his arms had gone around her, still clutching the roses, and he was returning her kiss, sliding his lips across hers, making her knees absolutely weak. He nibbled at her lower lip and she opened for him, accepting the gentle invasion of his tongue, carding her fingers through his hair. With every moment that passed, she melted further into his embrace until she wasn’t sure where she ended and he began.

Seconds or hours later, he pulled back, pressing little kisses to her lips, her cheeks, the tip of her nose. Rose smiled under the attention.

“I can’t believe it was you,” she marveled in a quiet voice.

“Disappointed?”

She shook her head. “No. An absolute dream come true. I’ve been that pathetic girl with a crush on her lecturer all semester. I just figured you didn’t notice me.”

“Oh, Rose Tyler,” he said in a low, rumbling voice, his accent rolling over her name and making her feel all wibbly. “I noticed you. I’m sorry we didn’t go stargazing tonight. Perhaps another time.”

“Oh, I very much hope so.”

Before she could blink, he was kissing her again, his lips opening and closing on hers. He only pulled away long enough to tilt his head and come at her from another angle, and the teasing movements left her wanting more, desperate for more of his touch, dying to feel him closer.

“So what now?” she asked when he backed away again, breathless, looking up into his eyes.

“Now I walk you home safely, kiss you goodnight, and try to convince you to let me see you again sometime.”

Her tongue went to the corner of her mouth. “You don't have to convince me. I want to see you as much as possible.”

“Fucking brilliant.”

Rose giggled, then gazed up at him. “Thank you.”

“For what, sweetheart?”

“Making me smile.”

“You’re welcome. I hope to do that quite a bit more in coming days.”

She was absolutely certain he would.

#ficandchips #twelfth doctor/rose tyler #twelverose #twelfth doctor #rose tyler

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