#he couldn’t take it anymore there were too many little hearts floating in the air around the boys

[voilaammayi]

when john and sherlock start accidentally but blatantly flirting with each other at the end of the 12th episode and I can sense the faint smell of building up romance:

#sherlock and co #a few more situations like that and I swear I’ll die on spot #I treasure them deeply in my heart #may I remind that they were flirting while still actively pinning the suspect to the ground after chasing and outsmarting him #the poor guy had to step up and ask them to shut up #he couldn’t take it anymore there were too many little hearts floating in the air around the boys #I truly apologize for the person I’ll become due to this podcast #john watson #sherlock #sherlock holmes #goalhanger #goalhanger podcasts #johnlock #the blue carbuncle #the blue carbuncle pt1 #sherlock & co

[taleasnewastime]

OOH THANK YOU FOR OPENING UP REQUESTS! How would you feel about this smut prompt with jungkook 🫠:

❛ are you wearing my shirt? ❜

So here's the thing, I had this sentence in a few requests and I was finding it hard to think of something new so I thought it would be funny to have the reader say this sentence, turned out it might not have been so funny ... hope you enjoy :)

Warnings: the lead up to smut, kind of a hand job? Idk

You have a hamper full of food, so much so that it’s hard to open the door when you get to it. Twisting the handle and then pushing the door open with your foot you squeeze into the dark house.

“Hello?”

It’s musty, the curtains only opened a crack, a ray of sun lighting a strip of the room, specks of dust floating in the air.

“Jungkook?” You call out again as you move further into the room.

It’s not a big place, a couple of rooms, hardly bigger than a studio apartment. But as you look around the room you can’t see Jungkook anywhere.

Your heart hammers even though there must be some rational explanation for this. He can’t go outside, it’s too dangerous for him to leave this confined space. He knows that. And even though he may not like it, he’d promised you he wouldn’t.

“Jungkook?” Your voice is louder, an edge of panic seeping in.

You dump the basket of food where you stand by the door and walk further into the room. Eyes scanning the dark corners as you head to the window. Dust flies into the air as you pull back the curtains and you wince against the sunlight. You glance around outside as if you’ll see him sat there, but he’s nowhere to be seen. You’re about to turn when hands go to your hips.

You jump and let out a small yelp as the hands slide around you letting strong arms encompass you. There’s a deep chuckle as a chin comes to rest on your shoulder.

“You scared me,” you scold, not only referring to him sneaking up on you, but also everything before.

He hums, shuffles his body closer to yours. “M’sorry.”

“Where were you?”

You push out of his arms. As nice as it feels, as much as you’d love to stay there, it’s too dangerous. While he’d promised he’d stay inside, you’d promised yourself you wouldn’t get attached. You’ve already crossed one too many lines on that account, you can’t cross anymore.

You head back across the room away from him, put some distance between you. Cling to the annoyance that was going through when you couldn’t find him. Only stop when you reach the food. Have to take a breath before you turn to look at him. You frown when you properly look at him.

“Are you wearing my shirt?”

He looks down at the material clinging to his skin and when he looks back at you there’s a smile gracing his lips. Cling to the annoyance, you remind yourself as your heart stutters.

He shrugs. “It’s not like there’s much else to wear here.”

It’s true, still, it feels a little too much. A knowing smile spreads across Jungkook’s face as if he knows what’s going through your mind.

“I can take it off if you want?”

You flush and finally look away from him. Focus instead going to the food you’ve brought for him. You swallow as you prepare to talk.

“I got you some more peanut butter because you said you were out,” you try to act normal, casual, but don’t think you’re doing a very good job. Out of the corner of your eye you can see Jungkook stepping towards where you’re stood, to look at the food, you hope. “And they had an offer on sweets. Don’t eat them all at once though.”

When you look up he’s much closer. That same Cheshire cat smirk on his face. Before you can question it, he’s pulling your top off, up and over his head.

“Here you go,” he says easily as he places the top in your limp hands. “Don’t want to make you feel uncomfortable.”

“You weren’t,” you say through gritted teeth, forcing your eyes to remain on his face and not go any lower. “It’s cold. You should put it back on.”

You chuck the top at his chest. He catches it only to throw it across the room. “I’m warm,” he smiles.

“Good,” you force the word out.

Bending, you pick up the basket of food and though it feels risky turning your back to Jungkook, you head to the small kitchen. It almost feels normal to unpack the food, but nothing about this situation is normal, least of all Jungkook approaching you still topless.

“What have you been up to?” He sounds innocent as he brushes up to your side, his bare arm brushing against yours. “You know, because it’s been so long since you last came. Some might even say you’ve been avoiding me.”

You reach up to try and slide some cereal on to a top shelf, a way to avoid the question that doesn’t work. Jungkook doesn’t even have to stretch to take the box off you, placing it on the shelf and then before you can pull away from him, he’s grabbing your wrist.

You look up at him. He looks angry, but his hand is gentle against yours. Firm, but gentle.

“Is it because of what happened?” And there you go. He bursts the bubble you’ve been trying so hard to protect. “Because I don’t regret it and I’m not embarrassed about it.”

You look down, focus instead on his bare chest, which if you’re being honest isn’t a much easier sight to deal with. At least you don’t have to look into his eyes which feel like they’re reading your every thought.

“We shouldn’t have done it,” you mutter.

“But we did,” he’s slowly getting closer to you, pushing you up against the counter, caging you in.

This is exactly what you wanted to avoid. This is exactly what happened last time. It was a bad idea then and yet you were weak enough to give into him. It’s still a bad idea now and you’re trying to remain strong.

His hand, still holding yours, moves down. His head leans towards yours, his lips brushing but not quite touching your skin as he breaths into your neck.

“I’d do it again,” he whispers.

He’s moved your hand between the two of you and when he places it against the incredibly hard bulge in his pants, he lets out a little moan. A pool seems to appear in your pants at the noise and you bite your lip to fight against letting out a similar noise.

“You’re just lonely,” you rationalise.

He hums, his lips finally kissing your neck, teeth gently nipping at your skin. You throw your head back despite yourself, baring your neck to him. His hand, still over yours, forces yours to move up and down over his hard cock still in his pants. It doesn’t take long for you to do the movement without his help.

“I have my hand,” he says darkly. “But you just feel so much better.”

“Jungkook,” you warn.

“Y/N,” he moans.

“We shouldn’t.”

“Give me one good reason.”

It takes you a surprising amount of time to come up with something, too long, long enough to feel Jungkook’s cocky smile against your neck.

“You’re under my care, I’d be taking advantage of you. Plus, you’re in hiding but anyone could know you’re here, they could barge in here any second.”

He hums again, his lips still working away at your neck, your hand still working away at his cock, his hand no longer needing to help you, instead they’re on your ass.

“I guess we’ll have to be quick then,” he mutters before lifting you up onto the counter.

#jungkook smut #jungkook drabble #jungkook fic #jungkook fanfic #drabble game

[munsons-maiden]

I’ve collected my thoughts on this whole mess. One last rant and a first little fix it blurb before I get back to writing Eddie all the million happy endings he deserves.

I’ve been through some fucked up shit in my life. But this grief and heartbreak I’m feeling right now is something completely else. I never felt so much pain, and it’s safe to say something in me broke irreversibly watching that scene. Stranger Things has always been my comfort show, from the moment S1Ep1 aired. It was the fairy tale that taught me, no matter how horrible things get, no matter how desperate things might seem, how the shadows in our heads can make us freeze and lock us up in our own minds: all monsters can be beaten.

And yesterday they took that from me. The moment Eddie jumped that table in the cafeteria, I knew something had changed and that Stranger Things would never again be the same without him. I never fell so fast and so deeply for a character. My mind has that horrible habit to pick the flaws of a character I love and twist them until I see so many parallels to my own abuser that I can’t 100% enjoy my love for this character - but with Eddie, it couldn’t do that. Eddie was, is, too pure of heart, too kind and gentle and sweet for even the demons in my mind to twist him.

That’s why I know I will never stop loving him, never stop thinking of him whenever I need comfort, never stop writing and pouring out all my heart to give him the stories he deserves, and why I know I will never love a character as much as I will always love Eddie.

I don’t think the Duffers will ever grasp what he means to so many of us. Stranger Things, the main cast they’re so scared of touching or changing, are as frozen in time as the Upside Down.

I want to believe that they’ll bring Eddie back, that reason for why this scene felt so surreal and horrible and off is that they have plans to somehow raise him from the dead, and there’s a tiny little spark in me that still clings to this hope against all odds, but that’s the only reason why I’ll watch season 5. To take it and write Eddie into it because that’s what he deserves.

So, on this blog, he’s alive and kicking. Dustin had to leave him there, but Eddie woke up. He woke up in this cold, dark realm, those tiny particles floating around him like a flurry of snow, pain searing through his body, blood coating his lips - but he was alive. He dragged himself to the rip (”Holy shit fuck what the Hell man that’s what I nearly fucking died for? Henderson you little shrimp I hope you got more of that duct tape somewhere because we’re gonna need a shit ton of it to fix this fucking mess”). He crawled out of the Upside Down. To his trailer, to home. He imagined Henderson’s face, Wayne’s, seeing him alive, imagined walking that stage and snatching that Diploma...but the smile slipped from Eddie’s face as he realized that this town wasn’t his home anymore. That no tear in the ground would ever clear his name because people didn’t want that. He’d always been the freak, and outcast, bullied for being different...and to believe it was somehow his doing would always be easier than achnowledging the truth that there were far more horrid things going on in Hawkins, far more monstrous dangers. Hawkins wasn’t his home anymore.

He could start over. A big city, somewhere were his being different was good because there were more people like him, who loved metal and D&D and Lord Of The Rings. Find some job, in a record store even maybe. He scoffed. He wouldn’t have passed O’Donnell’s goddamn final anyway.

So Eddie turned. And walked away. Into the woods. He didn’t know where he was going; only what he was leaving behind - but he would come back one day. Just not today.

#eddie munson #stranger things #stranger things 4 #st4 spoilers #stranger things 4 spoilers #tw abuse #tw anxiety

[emerald-amidst-gold]

WIP Wednesday

Wednesday! :D ...Or, well, a little after Wednesday (for me at any rate! XD), but semantics! 

Thank you @noire-pandora and @for-the-ninth for the tags! <3

I’ve still been fighting a bit of writer’s block lately, so I decided to browse tumblr for some prompts! It’s been helping, but as my writing generally goes, it...morphed. X’D

Enjoy! >:D

---

Today had been a…day. A very, very stressful sort of day. The type of day that left one, mortal or dragon, questioning their entire existence, asking why they continued to do what they do, and wishing to hide away until the next break of dawn. The type of day that had left the hinges of many doors loose, a myriad of allies at a loss, and the nobility that littered the halls like ants properly spooked. The type of that day where the only words used in conversation were ones filled with fire and ice; ones that burnt the mind and ones that chilled the heart.

That was the kind of day Fane was having–a very, very stressful sort of day. So stressful that he had had to…vacate, or rather, disappear into the forgotten halls of Skyhold. Normally, he could handle the weight of each day with only a few outbursts, slamming a door here and there, snapping sharply at his advisors only once or twice during a meeting due to their tiresome, circular arguments, only taking an hour break out on the battlements, but today he…

…He couldn’t. He couldn’t handle it. So, here he was–blessedly alone, surprisingly (or maybe it was unsurprisingly; he didn't care, to be honest.) unpursued. Solitude felt like such a hard thing to obtain anymore when it had always seemed like his only choice in the past. Did he wish for those days of hiding and fearing, of being reviled and scorned? No, never. Those days were painful and stressful in their own way. But he couldn’t deny he longed for room to breathe without offending, to think without being questioned, to speak without being branded a tyrant or a heretic of a religion he didn’t even fucking believe in…

He was a dragon–an ancient, ancient dragon who had merely yearned to see the sky again. That was all. Yet, here he was. Here he fucking was...

Fane was currently situated in one of the ‘quieter’ corridors of Skyhold, crouched down along the wall and massaging his temples in languid circles. He had discarded his belt and dagger, their subtle weight and tepid, metallic sounds becoming too much for him. Everything was too much right now. Sound, sight, smell, and touch–it was all too much. The corridor negated two of the four senses, but he was eternally stuck with the scent of the Fade and must, and the drag of his tunic and trousers. Better than all four, but still too much...

Fane heaved in a breath, letting his head fall into the crook of his knees. The sun was beginning to set, and usually he enjoyed the sunset, the gentle transition from blue to pinkish-orange, but not right now. He honestly wished it was night time right now.

“Just a few more hours…” Fane mumbled into his knees, absently carding a hand through his hair in an attempt to soothe himself. “Just a few more…”

A few more hours of duty, and he would be free. Free to rest, to be until the next day. Honestly, he was lucky he was able to get away as early as this. Usually he was tugged in every direction until the moon was half way in the sky, destined to greet the pillow and a very asleep Solas. It was times such as these that he was grateful for his tendency to run when things became too much. It was better than exploding on a wall or another person. Isolated, sure, but better than the alternative. A forgotten passage devoid of life was much better.

The area he was in...it was a passage that only he and Solas knew of, a passage they often used to get away from the world. It was in disrepair–the stone cracked in various spots, the mortar flaked to where bits of dust and debris floated about the air–but it was still stable, still private.

And it was one hallway that was far away from the eyes of those that would demand his attention. Fane couldn’t handle any more attention right now. He had already had to deal with Leliana and Cullen’s back and forth for the last hour and a half, and Josephine’s admiral, but futile attempts to mediate. If he had to listen to one more squabble about a fucking bridge repair, he was going to–

“Relax, relax…” Fane muttered to himself as he gave his hair a sharp yank, cutting off his train of thought before it could latch onto everything that had made him see red earlier. Fuck, his head was killing him. With a slow inhale, he took in a deep breath, holding it until his chest felt cold before slowly letting it out in a single, long huff. “...They’re back there, you’re right here. Alone. Away. Just think of something else…something else…”

---

Fane’s too old for this shit, but I make him do it anyways. :>

Tagging (with no pressure and all the love~): @oxygenforthewicked @rosella-writes @redinkofshame @little-lightning-lavellan @fade-touched-shenanigans @dungeons-and-dragon-age 

#wip wednesday #my writing #oc: fane lavellan #male lavellan #dragon age #dragon age inquisition #my boy is just a grumpy old dragon who wants to lay in the sun on top of a snowy mountain #and i refuse to let him have that~ >:3 #....sorta. XD #i'm actually pretty proud of this so far! it turned out kind of nice! woo!

[animeomegas]

Kinktober - Day 25

[Solomom (Obey me) + Jealously]

Summary: You and Solomon had been together for too many years to count, and as such had little patience in your relationship for petty jealously when one of you went out with friends or danced with someone else at a party. You just didn’t get jealous... well, that’s what you thought until you managed to decipher the final chapter of a rare and old magic book before Solomon did. Now he’s pouting and jealous and demanding that you teach him the final chapter. Unfortunately, for all his wisdom, Solomon seemed to have forgotten the phrase, ‘be careful what you wish for’. Dom!Alpha!GN!Reader

Warnings: There is no established consent but believe me, Solomon is an enthusiastic participant. Solomon being jealous, but it’s lowkey, not anywhere near yandere, don’t worry. Also, this one is a bit rushed, but I’ve been super busy visiting my family home, so sorry about that!

“My love, do you have the book I lent you? I wish to take it for some studying in the library,” Solomon walked into your bedroom, cape billowing behind him.

“Hmm?” you asked distractedly from where you were scrolling on your phone in bed. “Yeah, sure, I already finished translating and studying it anyway.”

Solomon froze.

“Ha,” he gave a forced laugh. “What do you mean you finished it?”

“What do you think that means, Sol, come on now, darling.”

Solomon’s eye twitched and you had to fight to keep your smile down. You knew just how to push every one of his buttons.

“Apart from the last chapter, you mean?”

“Nope, why would I say I’ve finished it if I hadn’t finished the final chapter.”

His eye twitched again, and he let out another forced laugh.

“And you understood it?”

“Of course,” you blinked at him like you couldn’t understand why he was struggling to grasp this concept.

Just then, little bit of uncontrolled magic knocked one of your little plants onto the floor.

“Oh dear, I do hope you’ll be cleaning that up,” you said with a monotone voice, still scrolling through your phone. Asmo was messaging you about setting up a threesome, you should probably reply to him before he threw a fit.

“Tell me how you did it!” Solomon demanded, taking the phone out of your hand and putting it in his pocket. Oh well, sorry Asmo, guess he won’t be getting a prompt reply.

“Why? You spent all of last night’s dinner date talking about how you couldn’t wait to sit down and decipher it yourself, why the sudden change of heart?” you fake pondered for a moment. “Unless it’s because you’re jealous I figured it out first.”

Solomon’s lips pursed and you could see him go a little red around the ears.

“Of course not,” he refuted. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

“Then I see no reason to help you with it.”

Solomon’s scent was tinged with disdain.

“Fine, just- Can you show me some of the magic then? It might help me to reverse engineer if I know what I’m working with,” he was still using the tone of voice that he always used when he felt like he was losing his control on a situation and didn’t know what to do. You had really rubbed him the wrong way.

Good job you thought his jealousy was cute.

“Sure! I don’t mind doing that, now?” Solomon nodded. “Cool, just give me my phone back, I’m not having you use it in one of your experiments, I need it.”

Solomon handed back your phone easily, eager to see the new magic spells he’d yet to figure out, and presumably twice as eager to crack the code and then try and surpass you by mastering them.

But Solomon had no idea what was in that last chapter. You hid a rather evil smirk. Sex spells. The last chapter was full of sex spells.

This was going to be fun.

…

“This isn’t funny anymore,” Solomon grumbled, floating several feet in the air with his arms crossed. You’d used the first spell in the chapter to start with, just as a little taster really. It was by far the most innocent one in the entire chapter. A simple levitation spell that could be held easily in conjunction with other spells, nothing inherently sexual.

“Well, if you’re not amused, I can always try the next one?” you smirked, stalking up to him and poking him on the forehead. “Here, statim summa voluptas.”

Solomon seized the seconds the words left your mouth, hips jerking against nothing as a stain appeared on his crotch and a blush on his face.

The book had simply called this one the ‘immediate orgasm’ spell.

“Wha- What spell is- How are you-!“

You casted it again.

“Hnng,” Solomon groaned, stretching and flailing in the air. His face was pink and the stain only continued to grow. “Fuck, fuck, this is too much!”

You casted it one final time.

The noise that slipped through Solomon’s closed lips was sinful. Because he was suspended in the air, he had nothing to hold onto while he was riding out his third orgasm, so his hands were clenching and unclenching rapidly to make up for it. He was panting now from the exertion of three rapid fire orgasms. It was tough to tell under the levitation spell, but he look completely limp and exhausted.

“How did you-“ Solomon coughed and wiped some drool off of his chin. “How did you do that?”

“I thought you wanted me to demonstrate the spells in the last chapter, Sol?” you questioned, tilting your head mockingly. “Don’t tell me you can’t handle it? You’ll never figure out how the spells work if I don’t show you.”

Solomon narrowed his eyes at you. His thirst for knowledge was untameable, and he was still jealous that you’d figured out the chapter before he did.

“What other spells are there?” he asked, staring you dead in the eye like he was trying to will you into showing him the information. Unfortunately for him, he didn’t make for a particularly threatening picture, floating helplessly, cumming at your mercy.

“Hmm, well, I thought this next one was fun,” you smiled, flicking your fingers at you and casting the next spell. “Think of the potential!”

All of Solomon’s clothes vanished, leaving his naked body free for your appraisal. The sticky cum from the previous orgasms was now obvious, covering his crotch and inner thighs completely. Solomon’s nipples were rock hard, and his backside was slippery with slick. In other words, he was absolutely breath-taking.

You couldn’t help but reach out and play with him for a bit, focusing on his extremely sensitive cock, watching the way Solomon flinched everything you made contact. And he was still complaining.

“That spell is ridiculous, what practical use does it have anyway?”

You rolled your eyes and decided to get him to shut up. You took swiped a finger through the cum on his crotch and held it up for Solomon to take into his mouth, something he refused with a harsh glare. He looked like he wanted to curse you out, but he wasn’t foolish enough to open his mouth while you were standing poised. Whatever. You just shrugged and smeared the cum all over his lips. That worked just as well.

Solomon levelled another glare at you.

“What’s that look for?” you asked with exaggerated interest. “Oh! I know! You must be bored of that spell now, how about we try the next one, then?”

“magicae delectationis manus,” you casted, eyes flashing. The last one was fun, but this one had to be your favourite.

There was a tense moment of silence, before Solomon smirked.

“You said you’d mastered all the spells, but it seems that-“

Solomon cut himself off suddenly and tensed.

“What’s that?” he asked, trying to turn around while airborne. He sounded a little nervous.

“What was that you were saying about my spell not working?” you laughed, circling him. “I think you’ll find this one… enlightening.”

“I can feel- Hnng, fuck,” Solomon cried out, writhing back and forth. “How does it feel like this? What are you doing?”

Solomon’s hands were jumping to different parts of his body sporadically. One second, he was clutching at his chest, the next, his neck, then his cock.

“Feel like what?” you laughed. “Oh! You mean, why does it feel like there are a bunch of invisible hands all over you right now? Well, my spell of course! That should be obvious! Are you enjoying it?”

Solomon didn’t answer. Although maybe that had something to do with the invisible hand that was clearly messing around with his tongue. It was so hot to see Solomon’s body react without seeing any of the hands. You wondered…

Oh yes, that was a nice view. Solomon’s hole was stretching as though he was being fingered, but you couldn’t see the hand. It was like a glass dildo, but better. The way it opened and closed, seemingly by itself, was so sexy.

Walking back around, you absently flipped through the chapter of spells, Solomon’s muffled moans filling the once quiet room. You still had twenty-five pages to go. Excellent.  

…

Later, when Solomon tried to make you explain how you knew how to translate the chapter, he was rather upset to find that their had been a key to the code tucked in the book sleeve. It was simply a form of child lock, to help stop children reading the last chapter, nothing complicated or spectacular. Solomon had been grumpy since you told him, but oh well, he’d definitely learnt his lesson.  

#kinktober #a/b/o #omegaverse #n-sfw #solomon #obey me #omega solomon #alpha reader #sub solomon #dom reader #dom mc #alpha mc #solomon x reader #solomon x mc #hcs #headcanons #gender neutral reader #gn mc #gender neutral mc #gn reader

[likeastarstar]

Boredom, Disinterest, & Intimidation.

Summary: Jungkook's in that suit and he's bored and you're not impressed by much...except for him. and then you fuck him in a public restroom.

(A/N: WARNING! SMUT AHEAD! for the anon requesting striped suit jk...I got severely carried away this is so much longer than I intended...feedback is appreciated.)

masterlist.

You weren't impressed by much.

Men were too boring to be impressive most of the time. They watered their personalities down, made themselves too accessible to be deemed worth it for your effort. Basically, you thought you were better than most of them. Your friends said you should lower your standards or risk being forever alone, but you didn't really understand why that was such a bad thing. At least you liked your own company, preferring to fly solo most of the time.

That's what you were doing at the event you were at, a networking thing that your company sent you to in order to make connections in different industries your CEO was interested in. You were the go-to for this sort of thing, where you had to be coy and work a room with no commitment.

You stared at the glass in your hand, wondering how many flutes of champagne the woman standing next you had consumed. She swayed off beat to the instrumental music playing and you couldn't help but guess that it wasn't a lack of rhythm that was causing it. Someone called your name and you lifted your gaze, falling on a bulky looking man with a kind smile. You recognized him as the PR connection your company had, one who was in charge of not only your own company but several larger clients in the entertainment industry. You smiled at him easily, floating over to where he was.

"Let me introduce you to my friends, they're in the music industry." He said pleasantly, gesturing to the group of men standing beside him.

You scanned the group neutrally, recognizing them instantly. Of course you knew who they were. You wondered why you were being introduced to them but soon connected the dots when you heard they were looking to explore the possibility of expanding their tour set-ups, primarily in the technology area, an aspect your company could help with. The tallest man did most of the speaking, his warm smile and easy going humor making it easy to see why countless people were in love with him. Your eyes stuck on another member of the group however, one standing towards the back with an uninterested look on his face.

While the rest of the men looked towards you eagerly when you spoke about previous experiences with audio and performance oriented tech expansions, he stared off to the side with his hands in his pockets. You studied his figure- black and grey striped suit tailored to a tee, skimming the length of his lean body. Straight shoulders, thin waist, legs for days- his proportions were scientifically perfect. His hair was gelled and neatly parted, jet black matching the inky color of his eyes. Everything about him was unapproachable, from the bored purse of his lips to the eyebrow piercing that reflected the light in a sort of warning. Another one of the group began saying something, sparking his attention.

His eyes flickered to you, flying over you at first and then doubling back to study you more closely. He frowned slightly, blinking a couple times before realizing you were staring back at him, refusing to look away.

"Seems like they're about to start the dinner, where are you seated?" Someone asked you, causing you to tear your eyes from his.

You just happened to be seated across from the man in the striped suit, who's name you had heard a couple times but had forgotten since you didn't personally pay attention to things like that. You ignored him and the way he slouched over in his chair, pushing his hips forwards with his neck stretched to the side so his head could rest back on the chair, watching the rest of the room out of the corner of his eye as if he couldn't be bothered to interact with it himself. He was distractingly handsome, chiseled jaw cutting a sharp line through space.

You started a conversation with a woman to your left who ran a charity organization or something, the details weren't really sticking in your mind since a certain someone had decided instead of zoning out, he'd zero in on you with total focus. You turned your head slowly towards him when you couldn't take the tension you felt from seeing his gaze locked on you out of the corner of your eye anymore, the knot of anticipation only tightening when you noted his smirk.

"Do you normally stare at people?" You asked in a flat tone.

"No," He said simply. "I actually make it a point not to make eye contact with people at these sorts of things. I'm making an exception."

He leaned forward in his chair, face tilted slightly so he was looking up at you through his eyelashes. You resisted the urge to squirm in your chair- this wasn't you. You didn't get intimidated easily, you were the one doing the intimidation usually. He rolled his broad shoulders back, sitting up straight as if to let you get a better look at him.

"Don't bother," You quipped.

"Aren't you bored?" He asked, a slightly surprised expression breaking the air of neutrality around him. "Don't you want to do something fun?"

"I'm working, I don't worry about having fun while I'm on the clock." You said, rolling your eyes before refocusing on the conversation you were having before as the appetizers were served. He was right though, things like this were incredibly boring. Rarely did you ever have fun at company events. You thanked the waiter, words hitching slightly when you felt a stiff shoe glide by your heeled foot, an ankle hooking around yours brashly. You blinked and looked back towards the man in the striped suit, a neutral expression on his face other than slight lift of his eyebrow, the silver hardware of his piercing sparkling. You pulled your bottom lip between your teeth to resist saying anything, trying to stop the heat pooling towards your lap.

You looked away quickly and he laughed, it's charming silvery tone ringing in your ears in a way that only distracted you further. You pushed your foot against his unconsciously, rolling your ankle around his as you carried on listening to the conversation around. It wasn't until he pulled away from you, touch ripped away that you realized you had been so forward with your actions. You watched him rise out of his chair, body limber and lean, looking down at you with a menacing intensity. He quirked his eyebrow again and you watched him stalk off towards were you knew the bathroom of the restaurant to be.

Even his walk was distracting, the way his shoulders rolled, hands swinging slightly, practically gliding across the room.

"What were you saying?" The woman next to you asked, tapping on your shoulder.

"I," You started, still staring off in the direction he disappeared to. "I was saying that...You know, I actually will be right back, I have to make a phone call."

You got up quickly before you really knew what you were doing, pushing through the waiters still trying to serve the large room full of VIPs. You passed the hallway to the bathroom when a hand snaked out and yanked you to the side, a now familiar pair of eyes staring down at you.

"I thought you didn't want to have fun?" He asked, a small smile on his face.

"I'm making an exception," You mocked, repeating his words from earlier before kissing him brashly.

His lips were soft on yours, tongue fighting against yours for control of the kiss almost instantly. His hands smoothed down your body and pushed you into the bathroom, ass pressing against the countertop. You matched his ferocity, biting down on his lip and wrapping your arms around his neck to pull him down closer to you. He lifted you onto the countertop, hands still kneading any part of you he could get his hands on. His hand settled on the jut of your hip, breath panting out as he moved down to your neck, kissing and sucking the skin there.

"Don't fucking leave a mark," You snapped, words venomous despite your hands pulling him between your knees. You hooked your legs around his figure, sighing as he pushed a sleeve of your dress off your shoulder and bit down on the space of your skin that was previously covered, laving over the spot with tongue.

"I'll be careful," he promised, "No one will see. My name's Jungkook, by the way."

You felt a lick of heat in the pit of your stomach, something animalistic that told you to keep going, ask for more, demand it from him. You didn't bother telling him your name and he didn't ask for it, pushing a hand up your dress instead. His hand rubbed circles on your skin and you realized he had rings on, cool metal pressing into the flesh of your thigh. Your brain felt like it was fizzing out, dial tones going off instead of coherent thoughts. God, why did his hands feel so good on your body? Why was he such a good kisser? What cologne was he wearing?

"Tell me to stop," He dared, pulling his lips off of you. He rested his forehead on the top of your shoulder, hand freezing in place. You said nothing, watching instead as he tilted his head back up to you with a surprised expression.

"Don't," You mumbled, voice so quiet you'd think he didn't hear you if he didn't smile at you. It wasn't a smirk this time, not a sly little expression, no cockiness in sight. He looked...sweet. Pretty. His eyes were sparkly and his cheeks fluffed up when he smiled like this, nose crinkling slightly. You felt your heart pang and wondered what the fuck was happening to you- who the hell was this guy?

"You wanna get fucked by a stranger in a random bathroom?" He grinned, going back to the cocky motherfucker you had known all night. He stood to his full height, hand still kneading into your skin as he gazed down at you, eyes catching on your parted lips. He tilted his head and leaned in, stopping just shy of contact. You skated a hand down his body, pressing fingertips against the firm abs you could outline under the silky material of his shirt, smiling slightly when you heard his breathing stop as you dragged your palm over the crotch of his pants, outlining his hard cock with your fingernail and wrapping your hand over it. You squeezed lightly, feeling Jungkook's fingers push up your leg and pull your panties to the side, "You're interesting." He mumbled, frowning slightly.

"No, I'm not," You said flatly, just before he dragged a finger through your folds. You breathed in sharply, feeling him brush past your clit and press down lightly, hips bucking up slightly. He thrust two fingers in you suddenly and you moaned. Jungkook kissed you, muffling your noises of need with his mouth on yours. Your back arched up to him, mind completely blank as he started pumping his fingers in and out of you. "Slow-"

"No, fast." He grunted, "Gotta open your tight little pussy up if you want my cock. You do want my cock, right baby?"

You kissed him desperately, feeling his fingers split and scissor inside of your pussy, his thumb rubbing into your clit in rough motions. Nothing about what he was doing to you was gentle or soft, pushing you, stretching your limits, teasing you where he could.

"Yeah," You nodded, "Yeah, I want you to fuck me."

Your breathing became labored and you felt your chest heave as he curled his fingers, looking for a certain spot until a jab of his fingers had you spasming. He kissed you still, smirking against your lips as he angled his fingers to hit the same spot over and over until he had you cumming around his hands, wrapped around his finger like a cute little bow, willing and able to do anything he wanted you to. He was staring at you again, inky eyes locked on your face, scanning your expression as you came like he was trying to memorize it. He pulled his hand away too quickly, taking your panties with him.

Jungkook tucked your now ruined lace panties in his suit pocket and gazed at you, grinning as he unzipped his pants, "Okay, I'm gonna fuck you now."

"Okay," You said weakly, feeling your pussy spasm around nothing.

He shuffled closer to you, standing in between your legs as he pumped his cock. You peered down, wanting to see what his cock looked like before it entered you. Shit- he was huge. Maybe he should've used another finger. You watched him reach in his wallet and pull out a condom, tearing it open quickly before rolling it over his cock. You bit down on your lip nervously, realizing how much this was about to sting.

"What? Nervous? Wanna stop?" Jungkook asked, tilting your head back up to look at him with a finger underneath your chin.

You locked eyes with him, eyes warm and inviting. His lips were flushed pink and had some of your lipgloss smudged on them, cheeks flushed and a glow on his skin. He was really pretty like this. He was just pretty in general. No, you definitely didn't want to stop.

"No," You said simply, "I want you."

He smiled and nodded shortly, lining himself up with your entrance and pushing in with one smooth motion, "What pretty girl wants, pretty girl gets."

You laughed shakily, leaning into the slight burn of his cock splitting you open, "Whatever I want?"

"Whatever you want," He nodded, squeezing his eyes shut for a moment before starting to move his hips, cock pulling and pushing against your pussy walls. "Shit- you feel really fucking good around me."

You moaned at his words, feeling his hips snap back, pulling his cock almost completely out of you before slamming back in. You were glad you were sitting on the countertop, you weren't sure your legs were working at the moment, curled tightly around Jungkook's body. His hands gripped your thighs, pulling your dress up and out of the way so he could watch your pussy take him, liking the wet noises that came along with how turned on you were.

"So wet, you have a crush on me or something?" He joked, laughing in a dry sort of way. You rolled your eyes and gripped a hand over his bicep, digging your nails into the muscle there underneath his suit jacket.

His thrusts quickened and he released one of your hips to slip his fingers around where your pussy was stretched around his cock, rubbing the folds there, adding stimulation that ripped the air from your body, making your head spin, body beginning to float away to nothingness.

"You're so fucking sexy," You moaned, gazing at him and the look of total concentration on his face as he fucked you into the bathroom countertop. His brow furrowed, sweat dripping down his face, pink tongue sticking out between his lips slightly. There was no way there was another guy on the planet like him- no one was this attractive.

You saw him blush and look up towards you nervously, suddenly shy to make eye contact, "Yeah? Y-you are too."

It was your time to smirk, rolling your body onto his. You felt his fingers latch onto your clit, rubbing incessantly. You clenched your pussy around him and he groaned, keening over and smashing his face into the crook of your neck, breath stuttering. He changed his pace suddenly, rolling his hips onto yours with an even faster speed you didn't know was possible. He was precise, pushing on the sensitive spot in your pussy with his fingers on your clit matching, pulsing, squeezing, tugging sharply.

"Your pussy felt so good cumming around my fingers," He mumbled against your skin, "Wanna feel it around my cock too, can you do that for me?"

"Okay, only because you asked so nicely." You smiled, feeling his hand squeeze your side in response. He bit down on the same spot of your shoulder he did earlier and that was it- you were unraveling around him in an uncontrollable way. You whined out his name over and over, triggering his own release as his hips finally faltered, shoving against yours for the last time. He stilled in you, moaning against your skin in that silvery tone that rang out like a bell in your ears. You felt him empty into the condom that separated yourself from him, feeling oddly angry that he had worn one to begin with.

You had just gotten fucked hard and were already wondering what it would feel like to have him do it again without a condom, what it would feel like to be stuffed with his cum. You squeezed around him unintentionally, getting turned on again at the thought. He winced, feeling oversensitive and pulled out of you slowly. His hands were shaking slightly, pulling off the condom and tying it closed before throwing it away in the trashcan.

You pulled your dress down as you caught your breath, floating back down to earth. Your eyes fell on the clock- you had been gone for 20 minutes.

"I should've been back at the table already," You noted, staring at the clock.

Jungkook tucked himself back into his pants and fixed his appearance, frowning at the mirror, "I should've kept fucking you for longer."

You laughed and ran a hand through your hair, "Maybe I should just go home- it'll be suspicious if we both go back at this point and I've made enough conversation for the night."

Jungkook stood in front of you, looking too happy but otherwise rid of all evidence of being freshly fucked, "Give me your number at least, I want to see you again."

You pursed your lips and debated it for a moment, staring at the hopeful look on his face. Normally, you'd say no. But something about him...

"Fine," You said nonchalantly. "But don't expect anymore exceptions from me. I'm hard work."

"I'm okay with that," He grinned, pulling his phone out quickly.

You really hoped that he was because he officially impressed you.

#jungkook fic #jungkook x you #jungkook oneshot #jungkook x reader #jungkook smut #jeon jungkook fanfic #jeon jungkook smut #bts smut #bts one shot #bts fanfction

[llamagoddessofficial]

Okay so I live (all things said and done) not far from the arctic circle, and long story short got to thinking about the various snow/ice safety things that are drilled into you up here and what to be wary of- like Snow Blindness 👀 what if MC,all alone, ended up out in the icy fields, her goggles broken/etc from a fall, and she ends up with it? In pain, blinded, she can’t tell what is where and Sans sees all of this unfolding, the growing panic, her probably eventually going still as she realizes trying to fumble around would make her more lost…. Would he lead her to safety, perhaps tapping on the ice in front of her to lead her way back to her warm tent, or would he take advantage and perhaps bring her to safety in some sort of icy cave only he has access to, to “nurse” her while her eyes recover~?

“stop.”

The voice was so distinct that if you’d heard it before, you would’ve recognised it immediately. You didn’t. The soft, dark, sonorous tone didn’t belong to anyone on the research team- it didn’t belong to anyone you’d spoken to before.

But you knew who it was.

Your eyes hurt. They hurt so much, the aching worming back into your head and spreading through in a headache that felt like it was going to split your skull in half. You had snow blindness- your goggles had broken hours ago, and your attempts at keeping your eyes shielded had done nothing to aid your worsening condition. You couldn’t see anymore, eyes squeezed shut in your last attempt at defending them from the glare... a gritty sensation under your eyelids was making irritated tears drip down your cheeks no matter how many times you tried to wipe them away. The sun was setting, you didn’t know where you were, you couldn’t see... at this point, the fear of freezing to death in the arctic was nagging at the back of your head.

You didn’t know where you were. 

... 

You’d obeyed the voice instinctively, stopping dead. Yes... despite not recognising it, you knew exactly who it was. 

That was what frightened you.

“Wh-what do you want?” You blurted, heart beginning to pound even faster than before.

How was he there? How far had you moved? You weren’t wearing your ear protection... stumbling home blind and deaf just wasn’t an option. Part of you wanted to force your eyes open to see him, to see the giant orca siren who had been stalking you in both the waking world and your nightmares. But at this point it wasn’t possible anymore- your eyes were so painful, trying to open them felt like trying to drag your hands over broken glass.

So you had to just stand there, blinded. Even more vulnerable than before.

“just listen to me.” Despite the musicality and silkiness to his deep voice there was an underlying urgency that couldn’t be faked. It was coming from just a distance ahead of you... only a few paces, if your hearing was correct. “you’ve walked onto thin sea ice.”

“... H-huh?” 

“there’s cracks everywhere. all around you. if you go forward anymore you’ll fall through and drown.”

... Your heart very nearly stopped. You thought the swaying you’d felt through your feet had just been from the confusion and splitting headache- not from walking so far out you’d managed to make your way onto the treacherous thin ice that’d give way under you any second.

“i’m going to lead you back to safety, okay? just follow the sound of my clicks.”

...

... You didn't really have the grounds to question him. I mean... what were your options? You'd blindly wandered onto deadly and fragile ice, an inky and icy death waiting just a few inches of frozen water below you. You desperately needed help, there was no way you were getting away safely on your own... if you take his help there's a chance he's lying, so you die, but if you reject him...

... You die either way. Might as well take the route with a sliver of hope. Maybe he’s... had a sudden change of heart? Randomly decided not to eat you?

Besides... You thought, shuddering. There's gotta be a little truth to it. Why would he try to trick me if I’m that close to gaps in the ice? Why bother leading me if I’m within range?

... You just... tried not to think about the fact that orca siren were well known for toying with prey for hours.

You heard his clicking, easily penetrating through the ice just ahead of you. That familiar echolocative sound... tapping like water droplets hitting a stone floor interspersed between louder clicks that you felt in your feet.

... You took a shaking deep breath, wiped away more tears... and started stumbling after the monster’s beckon.

He was right about there being cracks everywhere. The ground continually rocked beneath you; as he led you across the ice, you occasionally heard him surface, breath and rippling water... then the clicks would begin again somewhere else- further ahead or a little to the left or right. All around you there were places for him to come up for air... holes that you could’ve staggered straight into.

He led you across the shaking and unstable ice, weaving your stumbling blind form out of a maze of cracks and imminent danger. He could probably sense, with his echolocation, what sections of ice were thick enough for you to safely walk across.

Eventually, the ground evened out, and stopped rocking back and forth when you trod on it. His breaks for air became fewer, and further between... it must’ve been safer territory now...

...

... You turned your face.

... You didn’t have to see the setting sun to be able to see it. Everything under your eyelids got brighter when you turned toward it, you felt a modicum of warmth on your cheeks and still-burning eyelids.

So...

...

“W-we’re... going the wrong way.”

... You heard him pause, his clicking stopping short as he surfaced a short distance away. You couldn’t tell if he’d turned to face you or not, you desperately wanted to see.

“The... the st-station is... east, from the m-melting ice. We’re... g-going south right now...?”

...

His voice changed. You could hear the smile- in your minds eye you could see the dark grin spread across his face.

“i said i’d take you to safety. didn’t i?”

... 

You clapped your gloved hands over your ears and, just like you’d been trained to do, began shouting out the lyrics to the first song that came to mind as loud as you possibly could. Just underneath the words you were yelling you could hear something beginning to resonate... something sweet and beautiful, soothing and otherworldly and terrifying, but you couldn’t linger on it, not even for a second, you couldn’t think about it at all because as soon as you concentrated on the sirensong instead of your song you wouldn’t be able to pull yourself back again. As soon as you thought about him instead of the stupid lyrics, instead of the burning in your eyes and head, instead of the hoarseness in your throat, it’d all be over.

...

A gunshot.

The bullet landed in the water only a few feet away from where Sans was floating, sending up spray that dotted the ice around it. It caught you and the siren off guard- both of you stopped, your panicked yelling broke and the beautiful melody cut short jarringly like an entire orchestra freezing mid performance.

You took your hands away from your ears just in time to hear Sans mutter “stupid researchers...” before the unmistakable splash of him diving back under the surface again; under the ice, back into the depths.

For a second, you literally couldn’t help it- you forced your eyes open the barest fraction, the glare immediately shooting pain through your skull. And... it was Hit, in his signature black and red coat, the sunset-coloured world behind him completely fuzzy. Boots crunching on the ice as he moved toward you, rifle raised and pointed at the water; goggles pulled up to his forehead... 

Even as you shut your eyes again, just a second already too long, his expression was burned into your mind. Glaring at where Sans had been with a look you could only describe as... furious.

And possessive.

You heard him swear softly, anger dropping away- you heard him hastily put his rifle over his shoulder, rushing over to you and dropping heavily to his knees, saying your name like he was nervous you weren’t going to answer. You felt coarse gloves against your icy face, turning it up to him, warm breath on your painful face... you never thought you’d feel so much relief at the touch of somebody you’d never trusted before, but you let out a tiny shuddering exhausted sob and leant into him until your forehead touched his chest.

“hey. hey, it’s okay.” His voice was gentle, but still clearly panting- how far had he gone to look for you? “it’s okay, i gotcha.”

When he hoisted you into his solid arms, you just leant against him completely... tucking into the hold as much as you could. You were emotionally and physically spent and all you wanted to do was sink into his jacket and sleep.

"... c’mon, doll. let’s get you home.”

#llama writes #llamagines #arctic au #hehehehe #this was too good of an opportunity to pass #kinda spent all day writing it

[noctumbra]

𝒂𝒃𝒚𝒔𝒔

summary ─ hades gasped at the feeling. he could feel tears prickling his shiny silver eyes.

pairing ─ hades!bucky barnes x persephone!reader

warnings ─ light angst, a little fluff (blink you miss it), depressed thoughts, loneliness, general the winter soldier thinking (does that even make any sense), tws!bucky, love at first sight, this part is just,,,,, a part :d nothing really important happens

a/n ─ i listened to a song and got inspired all of a sudden. moodboards spurred me on, too, so here i am! hope you like it! please leave a comment if you do! thank youuuu <333 [there will be a sequel :) ]

Underworld was a dark and lonely place. There was almost no light; the souls coming out from the Styx River were providing only a very small amount. The torches were the only other source of light. It wasn’t a problem to Hades, though. He could see very well in dark.

He looked around as he walked up to the river. He could hear some souls weeping, some crying and some talking to themselves in gibberish. With every small wave of the river, there was a new soul appearing above it, and Hades actually loved watching them wander around.

His castle was made on some type of a hill. Whenever he looked out of his window, he could see Underworld in its all dark glory. It was a beautiful place, actually. One should have had a love for darkness to get used to here, Hades thought idly as his eyes wander around, and taking in the sight before him.

Sometimes, though, sometimes Hades preferred the surface to Underworld. Sometimes, he yearned for its fresh air instead of Underworld’s cold and stale air. It wasn’t smelly, but after some amount of time, it became unbearable to him. So, he occasionally visited the surface.

Today was one of those days.  

The weather was nice when Hades stepped into the forest. There was a light chill, the sun was shining bright and warming the places where its rays touched. Trees were vibrant green, flowers were smiling at the sun. Some of the animals were hoping from one place to another, birds chirping and some rustle caused by other animals could be heard.

Hades watched the happy scene before him with clouded, dark and sad eyes. His eyes were their real color, steel blue, instead of the threatening shiny silver. He had his classic all-black outfit on him, his big cloak covering his wings. His hair was down, crown left behind in his castle in the Underworld.

He took a shaky, silent breath as he let the fresh air of the forest fill in his lungs. He stood where he was for a couple more minutes. He was relishing the feeling of the sun’s shy kisses to his bare hands. He missed the sun, he missed its warmth, Hades realized. Underworld was always so cold, so dark and so empty. So lonely. Standing in this very forest, Hades did not feel lonely. There were a lot of alive creatures around him. He felt alive, he realized. It had been a while since I felt like that, Hades thought.

He exhaled softly, taking a tentative step forward. As soon as his foot met the green ground, the grass paled, its vibrant color turned into an ash gray: Its life died as soon as Hades’ presence touched it. Hades felt its life energy fading into the thin air. A sad feeling bloomed in his chest. He kept walking forward, dragging the end of his cloak behind him, making it kiss the dead grass his steps behind.

Ignoring the fact that he was taking the life energy of all the live things when he touched them, Hades enjoyed the warmth of the sun on his face. As he walked deeper into the forest, as he chased the warmth, the more he felt like a human. An amused, faint smile caused the corner of his lips curl up a bit at the thought.

Feeling like a human, he thought again. It was a far thing for him. He could only imagine what kind of beings they were since he was never been one. He watched their lives float in front him, all lost and lonely and sad. Just like him.

Hades felt his body shiver and tremble slightly albeit the sun shining right above him with its all might. He made peace with his loneliness centuries ago, but it never stopped hurting him, never stopped him from shivering and feeling sad whenever he realized how lonely he was. He was okay with it, but it hurt nevertheless.

Eyes closed, lost in his mind, drifting in the sea of his dark thoughts, Hades heard a soft voice. It sounded very much like a laugh. His eyes snapped open, glimmering with its dangerous shiny silver color. He didn’t dare to take another step instead he listened.

A soft breeze licked his face, kissed his cheeks and stroked his long hair, but Hades did not dare to move. He could hear birds chirping still, leaves on the trees were playing with the breeze, but there was no other voice. Did he mistaken, then? It couldn’t be, he thought. He was never mistaken. Just as he took a small step forward, he heard the same soft voice again.

“Ah, miss petunia,” his ears picked up the light talking immediately. “You look very beautiful today.” Then, a gentle laughter echoed in the forest.

Hades shrugged, causing his cloak to fall off his shoulders, and revealed his enormous wings. They were pitch black with silver strikes in them. They looked like a night sky without a moon but with a lot of stars. They opened on his sides with another light shrug, immediately shadowing over the small animals and flowers from the sunlight.

Hades quietly walked towards the sound. Whoever they were, they were talking to someone very gently and lovingly. He wanted to know how they looked like, wanted to know if they were a threat to him. Hades was curious.

“Oh, hello,” the voice called out gently as Hades hid behind a tree when he came as close as he could to the voice. “Hello, mister rabbit, where is the rush?” They giggled, their fragile sounding laughter echoed weakly. Hades emerged behind the tree and turned his shiny silver eyes to the talking person.

They were a woman with gorgeous hair that shone beautifully under the sunlight. She was wearing a cream colored dress that hung on her body comfortably. She had a flower crown adorning her hair, a small basket next to her which was filled with some fruits and flowers she had been picking up from here and there. Her face was shining even brighter than the sun itself; her large smile, sparkling, happy eyes were filling Hades with life.

She was breathing life into his very dead and cold soul without even realizing his presence. She was warming his whole body, from head to toe, each bone in his immortal body was singing with the warmth and life she was giving to him just by being in his sight.

Hades gasped at the feeling. He could feel tears prickling his shiny silver eyes. This feeling in his chest, in his heart, he had never felt anything like it before. He had lived many lives, had been alive for so long and would be alive for many, many more, but this feeling he would never forget.

His cold, dead and black heart was beating. With each beat, his body was getting warmer.

Suddenly, she became his sun, his oxygen and his purpose of living. She was his center of his world. She was this bright side of him that he never had before.

Suddenly, she was his everything, but she didn’t know that. Yet.

Hades sobbed softly for the first time in many centuries, and he fell to his knees, his wings dropping with him. The real color of his eyes, steel blue, peeked under the silver, the tears were making them shine bright. Hades felt the sunlight hit where he was on his knees, but he didn’t feel its warmth because he had hers. Her warmth. He didn’t need the sun anymore, not when he had her. Another sob made its way out of his mouth. His chest was heaving slightly with the silent tears and sobs and gasps.

For the first time in his whole immortal life, Hades felt the feeling what humans called love filling his whole being, his chest and heart. It made him feel lighter and happier. Everything was bright now, the darkness was scared and it ran away from him.

Hades felt happy because he wasn’t in the darkness anymore. She was his light.

Hades felt lighter because he wasn’t alone anymore. He had her.

She was his, and he was hers.

Hades smiled.

It was the most sincere smile his lips ever taken the form of. It felt real and sincere to him, too.

So, he just smiled wider.  

#bucky barnes x reader #hades!bucky barnes x persephone!reader #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes imagines #bucky barnes au #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes x you #bucky x you #bucky barnes blurbs #hades!bucky barnes #tws!bucky barnes #tws!hades!bucky #abyss

[ev-pierce-writes]

Doll

Pairing: Bucky Barnes (Winter Soldier) x F!Reader

Words: 7.7K

Rating: Very much 18+

Warnings: P in V, oral (fem receiving), light (consensual) choking, praise, James Buchanan Barnes is a sad boy and only you can make him happy, mutual therapy over past trauma, a couple light spanks, and some sexy sparring

Note: Reader had a run-in with Hydra that gave you invisibility powers. Bucky is tasked with training you. Totally not canon, I just kept the parts I liked. Got the idea from a tiktok but I can't find it anymore oops. I'm thinking of turning it into a series of all the places you can fuck Bucky Barnes at Avengers HQ. Enjoyyyyyy....

---

"Alright, so I'm thinking absolutely the first thing you need is a suit. Because we can't have you sneaking around in clothes that give you away."

Tony Stark and Peter Parker stand before you at Avengers HQ, furiously tossing ideas back and forth, trying to come up with ways to build you the best possible suit. Last night had been...interesting, to say the least.

"Who's that?" Stark had said when you appeared all of a sudden from your room. "Come on Agent Hill, don't tell me you're taking in lost kids nowadays."

Your mother had only laughed, slightly inebriated and feeling loose because of all the drinking that was going on in your penthouse apartment. She was hosting one of those parties where too many superpowers drank too much alcohol and got a little too rowdy. "That's my daughter."

Usually, you stay away from such events, go out with friends, and avoid the house until it's all over. For the past four years, you hadn't even been in the house to need to avoid it. But now you're 22 and a recent college graduate and something about the party was drawing you in so you had emerged from your hideaway to join in the fun.

"Alright, Maria, how'd you manage to keep that one a secret?" Romanov spoke up.

Until this point, you'd remained silent, in shock at the sudden attention a group of superheroes had focused onto you. But you couldn't help yourself from responding now. You'd managed to hide away long enough. It was time to come into the open.

"I'm a ghost," you said jokingly, approaching the couch and stealing the drink your mother had been drinking to take a sip. It was strong and burned on the way down. The group laughed at your words, unaware of how true they really were.

It was then that you'd performed your little trick, the one that only a few of your closest friends had ever seen. You became invisible.

The laughter had immediately stopped. The girl who suddenly appeared out of thin air had disappeared right back into it. They could still tell where you were of course. The glass in your hand remained visible, floating in mid-air, giving away your position. And your clothes were still perceptible, not being able to change with you. But your features were otherwise undetectable, not even a shimmer revealing your face. You took another sip of the drink, liquid disappearing into an invisible mouth.

"I want her. On the team," Stark had said.

And that was it. The start of your superhero career.

"Explain again exactly how this works?" Parker asks.

You sigh and start from the beginning, again. "I can distort the absorption wavelengths of my cells so that the reflected light is in the invisible range, usually infrared."

"And how long can you hold it for?"

"About seven minutes now," you explain. "It's sort of like holding your breath. You can go underwater for a while, and you can practice holding your breath longer and longer, but eventually, you need to come up for air. Eventually, I have to 'recharge.' But I've been working on extending it."

Stark turns to one of the many holograms of his supercomputer, working with Friday to design a brand new suit to accommodate your skills. You're so engrossed in watching his process you don't even notice the shadowy figure appear in the doorway that leads to the training facilities.

"How'd you get these powers? Agent Hill isn't lacking in skill but it certainly isn't supernatural."

You knew Stark's question would come up eventually. It always did. Over time, it became easier to tell the story, but now you really don't feel like explaining fully, so you tell the short version.

"Hydra. When I was seventeen. They used me as a bargaining chip against my mom in a mission gone wrong and decided to experiment on me in the process. Left me with a lot of scars and a lot of therapy. Almost dropped out of school."

You don't remember much from the experience. But enough for it to leave lasting damage.

"Hydra?" a familiar voice asks behind you. Only now do you notice that Barnes is behind you. How long has he been watching?

You remain silent, just like you did the night before when he'd arrived late to the party, unable to speak under his gaze.

You had planned to leave not long after you joined the festivities. But when the elevator doors opened, a pair of blue eyes halted you in your path. James Buchanan Barnes, the Winter Soldier. You'd recognize those eyes anywhere. Crystal clear and icy, freezing you under their gaze. He wore a leather jacket and leather gloves, concealing his metal arm, but you knew it was there, hiding behind the layers.

Barnes had always been the one that caught your eye during your mother's briefings. His transition from the greatest warrior Hydra had to offer, and thus S.H.I.E.L.D.'s greatest enemy, to the trusted companion of Captain America and official Avengers member intrigued you. At first, he had been more of a schoolgirl crush, the little girl grappling with her new powers seeking guidance in someone who didn't even know she existed. But age had not reduced your admiration of him. Barnes' face was hard set in serious determination and his glance barely grazed over you before turning to the rest of the group. He paid you not a single ounce of attention, yet you felt dumbstruck in his presence.

But Bucky had noticed you that night. Noticed you in a way he wanted desperately to hide, so he disallowed his eyes from lingering on you. Who were you and why were you wearing pajamas at a party and how did you make them actually look good?

And not only did he notice you, but he recognized you. He wasn't sure how, but something at the back of his head buried beneath decades of blurred half-memories told him he knew you. It was a stupid thought, though. How could he know you?

From the doorway, his eyes narrow in concern, making you feel smaller than ever beneath him. How is that 5 o'clock shadow so enticing? You just want to run your fingers across--

Stark gestures at Barnes, completely ignoring his comment. "Good, you're here. Our young Agent Hill needs to get started with her training immediately. I want her in the field but she can't be going in inexperienced. Teach her the works."

It's rather bold of Stark to assume you have no combat skills. And to assume you even want to go into the field. But you follow behind Barnes in silence anyway toward the training facilities. It doesn't matter what you know and don't know. He's going to kick your ass anyway.

"Feet wider," he says, coaching you on your swing. His blue eyes have somehow darkened, and along with the faint beard, he looks positively dangerous. "Not too wide."

"I know how to punch, Barnes," you whisper under your breath. He's not meant to hear your words, but he does anyway.

"Oh yeah? Punch me then. Go for it." His voice is challenging in the way that reveals he knows he could block any swing that comes at him. But he wants to see what will happen. Your mention of Hydra loosened a memory in his brain somewhere, and though he can't quite place his finger on it, the memory told him you're anything but the kid he's treating you like. He wants to know what you really have inside you.

Your annoyance gets the best of you. You aim for his face, the way your mother taught you. And she taught you well, teaching you all the self-defense skills you might need moving through the world as a woman. But she did not teach you how to fight super soldiers. That's an entirely different world.

Unsurprisingly, Barnes predicts your move and his metal arm comes up to meet your human one, halting your punch mid-swing. His palm fully engulfs your fist, your knuckles slamming into the metal with a ringing sound.

"Fuck, that hurt," you seethe through your teeth, gripping your hand in pain. And yet, you still smile. You mean for your words to sound irritated, but they betray how much you enjoy getting a swing in. "Didn't have to do me like that, Barnes."

He ignores your pain, though secretly it pleases him to find how much force is truly behind your punch. Nothing, of course, his metal arm can't take, but strong enough. "Language, kid. Go again. And this time, try not to be so obvious."

Despite his advice, it's impossible. He predicts every one of your strikes and counters them with four times as much strength as you possess. You give him everything you have, and nothing lands.

"This would be a lot easier if you let me use my powers."

So far, Barnes has refused to let you fight invisible, not that it would have done you much good without a proper suit. But you're tired and sweaty, your hair falling from its ponytail and sticking to your face, your muscles aching and your heart beating fast. Barnes hasn't even broken a sweat.

"Unless you learn to fight without your powers, they'll do nothing more than level the playing field. You need to be at an advantage if you're going to survive."

Survive. You've done plenty of that already. You want better than survival. Barnes recognizes the look on your face, the one that expresses the desire plainly. He knows the feeling, drifting from one day to the next and wanting more than that.

His voice softens a bit. "We can call it quits for the day. Get some rest. We'll go again tomorrow."

He didn't intend to be so kind. It just sort of happened, drawn out of him by the not-so-innocent girl who still has a lot to learn but can hold her own better than most.

---

Tomorrow. Tomorrow's8 like the day before, 9 am at HQ, wait for Parker to get his ass up the elevator so Stark can begin, get sidetracked by coffee, and then finally return to the task at hand.

"Give this a shot," Stark says, handing you what looks like nothing more than a vaguely human-shaped paper suit. "Not exactly protective, but it's a new technology. Should conform to your abilities."

"You did this overnight?"

"Of course. Get changed."

The suit has little support and definitely no protection. You feel like a fingernail could rip a hole through it if you pull on it wrong, let alone a knife coming at you from an angry enemy. But it's a start. An impressive start. You stare at yourself in the mirror of the bathroom as you shift, the suit shifting along with you.

Back in the training facilities, where you know Stark and Parker will be waiting, you remain in your shifted form. They don't look up as you enter, somehow having not heard you, and instead are engaged in a heated discussion with Barnes about something you don't understand. So you creep up behind Parker, lean in, and whisper into his ear.

"I think it works."

You feel a little bad, but only for a moment. Parker jumps straight out of his skin, screaming a scream you didn't know was possible from the kid. Stark lets out a laugh as you rematerialize, and Barnes even cracks a smile at your prank.

"Yeah, yeah, I'd say so." Parker's voice quivers.

"Well, what do you think?" Stark asks.

"Very thin," you say, aware that much more is visible than you really want. "I feel like it's going to rip at any moment. And there's not a whole lot of support in this area."

You gesture vaguely at your chest, not knowing how best to explain to a group of men that a sports bra is a necessity for fighting, but knowing you have to make them aware all the same. You can feel Barnes' eyes on you, a little less polite than the others, and you find you like the way he eyes you up, a bit like a puzzle to be solved or a strategy to be devised.

"Right, right, I'll get on that. Only a prototype anyway," Stark responds nervously. "Back to work, Parker. Hill, Barnes, back to training."

Bucky tries his best not to picture what you might look like without that suit, but it leaves little to the imagination as you saunter away to change again.

And so the days move forward. You've never before been so busy or exhausted in your life. You just graduated college, which is a feat in itself, but all the training, all the work, keeps you on your toes so that by the end of the day, both your brain and your body are tired.

Still, you improve and get better at sparring Barnes, even taking him down a couple of times on your own, though you suspect he's going easy on you.

"Again." Barnes is already on his feet and helping you to yours. Today the sparring room is particularly warm, and you've long forgone your sweats for shorts and a sports bra. Barnes has lost the shirt as well, and his chest glistens with sweat beneath the fluorescent lights. Maybe it's the heat or maybe it's him, but the whole thing feels a bit dreamlike. Here you are, sparring with a man who could take you to the ground with one arm alone, and he's letting you kick his ass every once in a while.

But there's no way you can do it again. You feel destroyed by all the slamming onto the mat.

Barnes is doing his best not to be distracted as well, but those tight shorts and the top that reveals your midriff have to be on purpose. It's easy to admit to himself that he likes you, might even be attracted to you. You fight hard and relentlessly, rising to every one of his challenges and not backing down even when you're tired. You've already come a long way since that first encounter, and Barnes has come to look forward to the two hours a day you spend together in the gym. He had tried to tell himself it was the fun of having a new sparring partner, but in truth, he knows it's the determined glint in your eyes, the way you bounce on your feet in excited anticipation of the fight, the way you collapse on the mat after a hard session, chest heaving deep breaths in and out. But what he likes most is your heated gaze when he pins you to the ground, or even better, you pin him.

"Knock me down one more time and you can be done," he challenges. The familiar determination returns, though a flicker of doubt remains behind your eyes. He can tell you need encouragement. "Remember to use your size to your advantage. Don't let me get ahead of you. Keep me guessing."

You do your best. You really do. You hold your own for almost two minutes, but it's obvious you're only barely staying ahead of him. As soon as you falter, Barnes has you flat on your back on the mat without much resistance, immobilized by a knee on your thighs and his metal arm trapping your hands over your head. His free hand plants by your head and holds him up to prevent him from actually hurting you.

You gasp underneath him, trying to disguise the weird flicker of desire with breathlessness. He looks good from down here, all sweaty and dark and serious. But you're also a bit too tired to care. "I'm out, Barnes. Let me go."

Let me go. Please.

And that's when the memory returns. The full, real memory, the one that has been tickling the edges of his brain since he first saw you. You, a kid, his mission. Kidnap, don't kill. A small voice, your voice, begging. Please, let me go. What has he done?

"Fuck," he curses under his breath, standing up quickly.

"Language, Barnes," you say teasingly. But he doesn't laugh, simply exits the sparring room, abruptly leaving you, speechless and alone on the floor. What just happened?

After a moment of confused silence on the mat, you brush it off and stand, heading to your room for a shower. Stark offered you a place to stay at HQ, and you happily agreed. Though you loved being back with your mother after four years away at college, you cherish your independence. A room at HQ offered you just that.

A nice shower would certainly make you feel better after that confusing interaction. You pull on your robe and shower shoes, leaving your clothes behind so as to carry one less thing. But as you pass down the hall toward the showers, you can hear Barnes' voice drift through the slightly open door to his room.

"I remembered," he says. "It was her. I'm the reason she's--" He cuts off, appearing to be interrupted by whoever he's talking to on the phone. You pause by the open door.

"I know that's not me anymore but I'm still responsible," he continues. "I have to tell her."

Again a pause. By now it's apparent he's talking about you.

"No, Steve, we aren't a team. We aren't partners. I'm helping Tony out. I don't care if she doesn't want to work with me anymore, this is part of my redemption. I have to tell her."

The conversation seems over. You rush to the showers, not wanting Barnes to realize you were listening the whole time. Apologize, he said. Apologize for what? You've known him for a whole of four days and he's been nothing but polite to you. Cold, at first, but he warms upon acquaintance. And then he's downright sweet.

So sweet, you realize, for someone so damaged. He has every right to hate the world, and though he walks through it with a healthy dose of cynicism, he never lets that cynicism touch you. If anything, he's outright positive around you, an undeserving brat. A kid, really, though you don't like when he calls you that. You know you can be naive, positive on the verge of artificiality, and yet he never tries to burst your bubble. In fact, he seems to relish it.

The shower feels nice, but it does nothing to assuage your fears. Maybe it's you who has done something wrong? Now you're spiraling. You have to find out what's going on or it's going to drive you crazy.

You know what you have to do. You have just about seven minutes of invisibility before your shifting gives out. In those seven minutes, you can duck from the showers, sneak into Barnes' room, snoop around, and make it back to the showers unseen. Plenty of time. But you have to go nude. Now would be a great time for the suit, but no such luck. Naked it is.

Out in the hallway, all is quiet. Barnes' door is still ajar, but when you peek your head in, the room is empty.

Easy.

Where to start? His phone is a dead end, being one of those ancient flipping kinds rather than a new, high-tech smartphone. He has few personal belongings, the bed is made perfectly, and his closet contains only clothes.

The drawers of the nightstand are empty. Or nearly empty. At the back of the top drawer is unceremoniously shoved a small booklet with a pen stuck between the pages. It's worn and supple, as though held a thousand times and read a thousand more. You flip through, finding a list of names, some crossed out, others not. Your name does not appear, but something about the list tells you these are not ordinary names. These are the names of his victims, people Barnes hurt as the Winter Soldier. Your heart aches and your stomach clenches, the reminder of his past jarring against the kind demeanor you've come to know. But deep down, you know this isn't him, know he's a good man, despite it all.

You know better than most the first-hand horrors of Hydra's super-soldier experiments. Of anyone, you can relate best to the experience Barnes has been through. Your memories of that long week are blurry, but the pain remains, forever seared into your mind. You can only imagine a lifetime of that pain.

The sound of the door opening jolts you from your reverie and you close the drawer quickly. But you soon realize your mistake. Barnes would know he left the door open, would know exactly how he placed his book in the drawer, would recognize something was off. Unfortunately, you're right.

"Hello?" he calls into the darkening room. The evening is coming on fast and the sun dims to barely glimmer, casting the space in shadow despite the large windows on the south wall.

Bucky knows something is off the moment he finds your room unoccupied, having gone there with the express purpose of confronting you about his actions earlier in the afternoon. And though he has no way of truly knowing, he suspects you are now here, in this room with him, invisible to his gaze. Bucky shuts the door behind him and waits.

You're trapped. You don't have long before your powers give out; already the suffocating feeling that begs you to take a breath is coming on. And Barnes has closed the door, effectively sealing you in, as you can't open it without him knowing for sure that you're here. On top of that, you're clothingless. You've run out of options and Barnes seems to sense this. So, he waits, drawing out the moment of tension, building the suspense.

"I know you're here," he says finally, his voice soft and barely audible. "You can't hide that well. Next time, dry your feet off before you go leaving wet footprints all over the place."

Oops.

"I--" you begin, and immediately Barnes' eyes snap to where your voice originates from. "I'm sorry. I overheard your conversation with Rogers. I shouldn't have but I know it was about me."

Barnes sighs, shoving his hands in his pockets. "Yeah, you're right. I have some things to explain. Though I'd much prefer talking to you if I could see you."

You hesitate. "Only a slight problem there. I'm not wearing any clothes."

If it had been any lighter in the room you would have seen Barnes blush. Instead, you watch him pull his shirt over his head. He hands it to you blindly, the shirt off his own back, soft with wear and long enough to cover the tops of your thighs. It smells of him, salty with sweat and sweet with the scent you've come to recognize only as him. You shrug it on and shift back.

"I'm sorry," you say again, having trouble concentrating with Barnes' bare chest at your eye level. Is that an old bullet wound on his shoulder? The reminder of a knife across his stomach? You can't look away, even at the seam where man meets metal.

Barnes shakes his head. "No, I should be the one apologizing."

He pauses for a moment and tries to begin several times before finally forming a complete sentence.

"It's my fault you're like this, that Hydra tested on you. It was me who kidnapped you, it was me who followed orders, it was me who completed the mission and got you hurt. And I'm so sorry."

You're so frozen in shock that the absurdity of the situation doesn't even register. There's nothing under this shirt, no underwear, no pants, no bra. And here you are standing in the bedroom of your greatest inspiration, listening to him apologize for being the one that facilitated your kidnapping, for being responsible for all the injury, the pain, the nightmares, the isolation, the...

It all comes flooding back, the things you had forgotten, or simply chose to not remember, and one of those things is his face.

You thought you'd dealt with impact. So many hours with a therapist, and you realize all you did was suppress the feelings, not confront them. And then you break, all the anger and sadness and frustration flowing from you at once.

"You piece of shit." Your voice begins as a whisper but soon amplifies nearly to a shout. "You monster, you bastard, how could you? How could you?"

All this time you forgave him for the damage he'd done, excused it as brainwashing and manipulation from Hydra. But now that it's you he's involved, you have somewhere to direct your anger, and you take it out as a shove straight to his chest.

He didn't expect that one. The words he understood. He accepted those, accepted that you would hate him forever. But then you're pushing and hitting him with all your force. Barnes could fight back, could hold his ground. But you need this, so he lets you shove him into the wall with a newfound strength. Finally against the wall, with nowhere left to go, you turn to pummelling his chest with your fists, repeating the words over and over, how could you, how could you, how could you.

For a moment, he lets it happen. But eventually, Barnes reacts, grabbing your wrists and holding them to his chest in an attempt to calm the fury that rages inside you. Surprisingly, at his touch, you still, slumping against him once the anger is replaced with nothing but sadness. That anger, one you never truly realized you'd harbored since your capture, bled from you all at once, leaving you exhausted.

You don't notice you're crying until a soft thumb wipes a tear from your cheek. Barnes releases your hands and wraps his arms around your sobbing body, pulling you close. "I'm so sorry," he repeats in your ear, his words a whisper against the rage inside your head.

Is it hours, or only minutes, standing like that, wrapped up in him, his skin so soft against your cheek? Time has ceased to exist, melting into the nighttime that encompasses the room in near pitch-black darkness. Your breath calms, your heart rate slows, the tears dry. He's only a man, a broken, misplaced, lost man. But he's also impossibly kind to you, caring enough to train you day after day, to pick you up when you fall down, to ensure you're happy here at all times. That's the man you know and rest your cheek against and seek out for comfort in this moment, despite him being the reason for your anger. But he's not truly the reason for your anger, only an easy outlet standing right before you.

This is not how Bucky had expected this to go. Perhaps to never see you again, yes. But to hold you in his arms, certainly not. And not just hold you, but comfort you. It surprises him how much he finds he likes it. And he can't ignore the fact that you're here in his room, wearing his shirt and only his shirt. He doesn't try anything improprietous, just wraps his arms around your waist, but it's not lost on him that your supple chest is pressed against him and the delicious scent from your still wet hair is filling his brain with a flowery cloud. His stomach clenches at the thought of burying his face in that smell for the rest of the night but he pushes it aside. That's not why you're here. That's not what you want.

But your next words surprise him. You pull slightly away, tilting your splotchy face upward towards his to look him in the eye. You take a ragged breath and speak.

"I forgive you."

Bucky is taken aback. That's not why he made this confession, not to seek your forgiveness. "You don't have to do that."

"I know. But I do. And I know you think I'm just a kid--"

Barnes lets out a short laugh, cutting you off immediately. "Jesus Christ, that's not true. You're not a kid. You're smart and strong and capable. And you've seen the ugly world for its true self and choose to remain good and happy all the same. I'm not like that and that makes you wiser than I'll ever be."

He takes a deep breath, unsure if he should admit to the feelings he desperately wants to express to you. The way you're looking at him, with a mixture of hesitation and admiration, makes the words tumble from his mouth without a second thought.

"But somehow being around you makes me want to be good again. Not for my sake, but for yours."

"James, I--" You've never used his first name before, but it falls deliciously from your lips, the sound of it nearly distracting him from the finger you run across the stubble on the cleft of his chin. Nearly. He captures that hand in his own, holding it there against his face.

"You don't have to forgive me. I don't deserve it," he repeats, eyes falling shut to the feeling of your thumb pressed to the corner of his lips. He still holds you close, the other arm wrapping tight around you, and though verbally he rejected the comfort your warmth offered, his body says otherwise, desperate for the acceptance his brain refuses to give into.

"Stop punishing yourself," you whisper. For a moment, he almost feels that he could.

And when your lips find his, soft and delicate, he forgets why you're even here in the first place, forgets his guilt and your anger, forgets even to react.

His lack of response has you pulling away, worried you've done something wrong, but then he's chasing your lips with his own, leaning forward to meet you halfway, gathering you impossibly tighter to his chest. He pauses, mouth mere centimeters from yours, eyes still shut, a deep breath heaving from his chest. He wants more, wants to kiss you again in all the places that count, but he can't quite yet.

"What was that for?" The question's not an accusatory one but simply curious. Have you always looked at him in this light since day one? Has he just not noticed?

"Are you blind, Barnes?"

He laughs and shakes his head. "None of that last name shit, doll, we've moved on to a first-name basis."

But your words are enough to surge him forward, this time capturing your lips in a dominating kiss that leaves you gasping for air. He takes advantage of your open mouth and presses his tongue to yours, seeking to fill his soul with your all-consuming warmth, to wrap it around him like a cocoon of your scent. His fingers slide down your back and slip under the shirt you wear, his shirt, grasping at the bare skin of your ass, filling his hands with your supple flesh.

You moan softly under his touch, relishing in the feeling of being encompassed by someone so large and so strong. The vibranium arm, which you expected to be harshly indelicate against your relative fragility, caresses you with the same gentility of the other. The intense contact sends your heart racing like it did all the times you were pinned below him on the sparring mat. Will he pin you like that in bed? Hold you down while he fucks you within an inch of your life?

The thought rouses a heat between your legs and stirs butterflies in your tummy. You don't even know if that's where this is going, but it invades your brain anyways. You're sure Barnes can feel your racing pulse beneath his lips when he kisses your neck, sending your nerves haywire as he creeps toward the neckline of your shirt. He inhales your scent, the hot air of his breath fanning your cool skin.

Everything about this is sloppy, the wet kisses dragged across your skin, his tongue tangled with yours, your fingers tugging at the hair that brushes the nape of his neck. Even his hips against yours are messy and rough, the heat of him leaving your core feeling slick, the wetness of it rubbing between your naked thighs. And then Barnes is sliding his hands back up your body, this time under your shirt, and tugging it over your head, his lips leaving your skin just long enough to toss the item to the ground.

You expect him to keep surging forward, to lift you in his arms and take you to bed like you want him to. But he pauses instead, hands cradling the back of your head, his eyes staring intensely into yours. Or you think he's staring into your eyes.

"Are you okay? Is this okay?" His voice is full of concern but raspy with arousal all the same.

"Yes, James, yes, I need more."

"Well, I would, it's just that you've disappeared on me again." One look at your hands and you know he was looking right through you, not at you. The swirl of emotions--pleasure, arousal, timidity even--sent you shifting without your knowledge. You can't help but laugh.

"Let me see you, doll," he groans, sounding exasperated that he can't rake his gaze across your naked flesh or find all the places he wants to touch you because they're invisible.

"You first."

A heated understanding lights up his eyes, still vibrant in the darkness of the room. Slowly, he releases his grip on you, relenting to not knowing where you are in space. You take an invisible step back to get a better view of the specimen before you. With one hand, he unbuckles his belt, sliding the leather from his pants and dropping it to the floor with a thunk. And then his pants are gone and he's left in his boxers, tight against the bulging muscles of his thighs.

And other bulging things. He doesn't hide his attraction to you. But still, you do not reappear.

Bucky begins to worry you're never going to, that maybe he's taken things too for. But then, a soft finger trails across his neck and he jerks in surprise. You're tracing the plain of his chest with a feather-light touch, dipping into the indent between his collarbones, feeling along the puckered scar of a bullet wound and the long slice of a knife. He feels healed beneath your touch, but it's not enough to satisfy the insatiable hunger building in the tightness of his groin. This entire evening has been a long, drawn-out, build-up of tension, and if he doesn't release it soon, it will snap like an overstretched rubber band.

He makes his move.

Apparently, Bucky's senses are just as perceptive here as they are on the sparring mat. His metal hand shoots up and wraps around the wrist of the hand on his chest, despite being unable to see it. The other reaches out and grapples at your invisible body in the dark, somehow finding your waist. He doesn't need to see you to manage to flip you around and press your back against his chest. In your surprise, your invisibility falters, and you flicker out of your shifted form with a flustered squeak, one hand suddenly pinned between your back and Bucky's rock-hard chest.

He holds on with an iron grip and walks you toward the bed, holding you up to prevent you from tripping in your ruffled state.

"You're taking too long, doll," he mumbles into your ear, and you feel his chest rumble with the vibrations. Your free hand flies to the one around your waist, which is slowly creeping upward toward your breast to twist at the sensitive nipple. "I know you like it when I pin you on the sparring floor. I can see it in your eyes. I'll take you like that right now if you give me the word."

Fuck, you want nothing more but you can't breathe enough to get the words out, opting for nodding vigorously instead. But Bucky wants words, gently prodding you forward to get a verbal commitment out of you. He will never take you against your will again. So you manage a long, drawn-out please and suddenly you're face-first in the sheets, bent halfway at the waist, your ass grinding against the delicious bulge pressed against your aching cunt. It pleases you that he has been thinking the same wicked thoughts as you when he slams you to the mat over and over again in training.

Bucky pulls your arm out from underneath you, joining it with the other and holding them together with his metal fist at your lower back, forcing your chest further into the mattress and your ass higher in the air. There's no way for you to move, no matter how hard you try. But you don't try, won't try. Bucky has you right where you want to be.

"Tell me if it's too much," he murmurs in your ear and you breathe an affirmation. His teeth nibble suddenly at your ear lobe and you squirm, the sensation of his breath fanning your skin sending goosebumps along the trail of kisses he leaves down your spine. Somehow, you know this is only the calm before the storm, the gentle caresses of a man who's about to rearrange every organ in your body, all the way up to your heart if you aren't careful.

It doesn't matter to you that it's pitch black in the room; you wouldn't have been able to see anything with your face shoved into the comforter, even if the lights were on. But Bucky's starting to regret having left the lights off, wishing he could better see the curve of your hips, the swell of your thighs, or the bloom of his handprint on your ass when his hand comes down with a smack. He resigns to being satisfied by the mewling gasp that escapes your lips and your soft pleas to Do it again, harder.

So he does. Smack.

And then he's sinking to his knees and you can tell because he leaves a wet stripe of skin with his tongue over the globe of your ass and blows a shock of cool air across the rawness of your skin.  He replaces the sting of his hand with the bite of his teeth and then a kiss to soothe you again. The rollercoaster of sensations has you moaning against the mattress and rocking your hips toward his face and Barnes chuckles at your movement, your actions giving away the desperation you feel to have his tongue move to more sensitive places.

He is happy to oblige. You hadn't even noticed you'd been squeezing your thighs together until he slid a hand up between them, forcing them apart. It's a blessing your legs aren't doing any work to keep you up anymore because they feel like jelly under his touch. The hand between your thighs moves higher still until you feel his thumb pressed to your sensitive clit, warm and twitching with anticipation, desire coursing through your veins and dripping from your wet cunt. Your ears barely register that he's speaking, the blood is pumping so hard in your ears, but his words are exalting.

"Look at you, so wet for me." The hand around your wrists tightens just slightly. You are surprised by the extreme control he has over the cool metal fingers, and you almost wish he'd use those on you instead. And then he says, "you like it, don't you, doll, being at my mercy," and you forget all about the arm and decide it doesn't matter what hand presses down with a gentle strength on your clit as long as he doesn't stop. And he doesn't. Doesn't move, doesn't flinch or twitch or falter, just holds steady until your gasping mewls die down just enough for you to say, "yes, all for you, all for you, all..."

With those words, his thumb slips, between your slick folds into your pussy, finding the soft spongy flesh and pressing down again and you cry out with a careening moan that tapers off into a silent sob. He's taking his time, picking you apart, pulling at the laces that bind you together, and undoing them to release the tension he knows you harbor. But what about him? Is it not torture for him?

You breathe in a rough gasp, enough to squeak out a few more words. "I thought we were going too slow for you."

He laughs, he actually laughs, at your words, but relents.

"I hear you, doll."

I hear you. Oh wow. His tongue replaces his finger and you lose all coherence, able only to blubber some iteration of his name as the smooth muscle traces circles around your clit, finally allowing your orgasm to build with a steady contraction in your pelvis. Barnes moans between your legs like he's never tasted chocolate or buttercream or any of those other wondrous flavors and there's only you. And that moan sends you overboard, the vibrations diffusing down your legs and you tremble into your first orgasm. Your first orgasm.

He keeps going, riding out the waves of your high until you're crying that it's too much, James, too much and he pulls his tongue away from your oversensitized clit only to move down your legs. He's working you up again, teasing the smooth skin of your inner thigh with gentle nips and kisses until your body is craving release again, your cunt clenching around nothing but the memory of his mouth. He is deliberate in his ministrations, methodical in the way he must be with his missions. The flood of your first orgasm has dripped steadily down your thigh and he cleans you with his tongue, dragging upward along the sticky trail of your musky release until his tongue makes contact again and he pulls an orgasm from your desperate body once more.

He still hasn't released your arms.

"You know how long I've wanted to do this?" he groans, as you shudder again into the pleasure of his touch. He kisses back up the length of your spine while you twitch under him, his free hand dragging shock wave after shock wave from your cunt. It strikes you that this man is truly 106, not 26 like his body suggests, and you absentmindedly wonder if that's why he's so good at it, that he's had years to practice. And then his cock is pressing against your folds and you forget the notion halfway through thinking it. "You're so good to me doll, so good for opening up for me. Wanna feel your tight pussy around me."

You push backward, or do your best to without the employment of your arms, wanting desperately to feel him inside you. He is warm and all-encompassing and part of you thinks his cock spilling his seed inside of you would complete you like nothing else. But you know that's a bad idea and you can hear him already unwrapping a condom (where did he get that from?) and your body trembles with the anticipation. You haven't even seen him yet but you know he must be big, the way he grunts when the tip of his erection teases your entrance.

When he enters you it isn't gentle like the stroke of his tongue. It splits you open with a rough thrust, the laces of your heart fully undone and releasing you from their confinement. You choke on your own air.

And then he's releasing your arms, and before you can react, Barnes has you lifted, your back to his chest, your knees shoved roughly into the mattress so he can stand and fuck you from behind. The metal arm finds your neck and forces your head back, his lips dragging hot against your soft skin and muttering filthy praise into your ear, his hand gently on your throat to hold you there. Your hands fly to his, not to pull him away, but to convince him to squeeze, just a little bit harder. The pressure is grounding, and then the hand around your waist is trailing toward the bud of your clit and rubbing in urgent circles and you let out a silent gasp as he thrusts into you at a pace astounding for the position you're in.

You come hard, over his hand, around his cock, and for the first time Barnes falters, stunned by the intensity with which you clamp around him and if he hadn't made you come two times already he might have held out a bit longer to pull another one of those stunning orgasms from your slick cunt. But you're sagging, using him to hold you up against the exhaustion of repeated abuse so he releases, riding the wave of pleasure you started. Bucky groans out your name, surprising you with the gentleness of it on his tongue despite the rough hand around your neck.

When he releases you softly back onto the bed, you sink heavily into the mattress, feeling high on pleasure and drunk on his hands. He pulls away and shuffles around the room, and if you had had any energy left you might have complained at the loss of him but as it sits nothing will rouse you from the intense desire to simply fall asleep.

He continues to move about and then... the lights go on? You groan at the harsh treatment of your eyes as they adjust. But Barnes returns and pulls you against him and apologizes for the rude awakening.

"Sorry, doll," he mutters. "Wanted to get a better look at you." His fingers glide along your back and his face nuzzles into the top of your head, breathing into your hair as you press your forehead into his chest. Despite being exhausted himself he trails his hands all over your body, exploring the side of you that has been shoved into the sheets for the better part of the evening. You let him, although your nerves feel fried and oversensitive to touch.

"Watch what you do with those hands," you giggle as his fingertips brush over a nipple, "unless you're ready to go again."

"Already looking forward to next time?"

"You wish," you tease, but already you know for certain that there will be a next time.

#bucky barns x reader #bucky barnes #winter solider fanfiction #bucky barnes smut #winter solider smut #definitely not canon #i refuse to believe steve went back in time for some 1940s kitty kat and left his best friend behind #tony and nat are alive bc they are the only truly valuable characters #sebastian stan #also youre the daughter of agent hill #bucky fanfic #bucky x reader #winter soldier #wEiNeR sOlDiEr

[cherienymphe]

Crave (Peter Parker x Reader)

WARNINGS: DUB-CON, NON-CON, vampire!Peter, bloodplay, mentions of animal cruelty, mentions of murder, mentions of X-Men characters

DNI IF THIS OFFENDS YOU

divider provided by @/k1tty4rk

summary: when Peter goes missing while on a mission, he’s not exactly himself when he returns. His appetite is a little different now, and you soon find out that he’s hungry for more than just blood

~

You should’ve known that something was wrong when your phone went off at nearly 3 in the morning. No one ever called you that late, not even Peter. Your best friend was more likely to slip through your window if he needed something. Groggy with fatigue, it took you a moment to realize that you had not plugged your phone up before going to sleep like you thought, and that it was instead in your sheets somewhere. 

“Hello?” you finally grumbled, eyes still closed as you wondered just who in the world was calling you.

“Kid, it’s Tony. Is Peter with you?”

You were suddenly wide awake, blinking your eyes open as you forced yourself to sit up.

“No…? I thought… Isn’t he on a mission?”

Worry began to bleed into your heart, and it only increased at Tony’s words.

“He was, yeah.”

You threw the covers off of you, hurriedly sliding out of bed as you searched for some shoes.

“What do you mean ‘was’?”

The older man sighed, and you noted that his voice shook a little bit. You froze, heart dropping into your stomach as the severity of whatever was going on registered. Tony Stark was worried.

“He was supposed to check in 2 days ago. He was supposed to be back today. Neither of those things have happened.”

“Wh-what do you mean?”

Your pitch had risen, and you didn’t bother to mask your fear. 

“I don’t have much time to explain. Capsicle and Robocop are coming with me to see if we can find him. We’re leaving shortly, but my coordinates show that he’s still in Bulgaria. That’s where we sent him. We just haven’t heard a word from him and can’t seem to get in touch with him.”

You could hear things going on in the background, and you figured that they were only moments away from leaving. Your stomach churned, and you felt like you might be sick. If Tony Stark with all of his gadgets and resources couldn’t get ahold of Peter, then something was really wrong.

“Look, I have to go. If he shows up there, let us know immediately.”

He hung up before you had the chance to tell him that you were coming straight to the compound. You stared at your phone for a bit, brows drawn together as you processed this news. You hadn’t thought anything of it when you hadn’t heard from Peter in a few days. He wasn’t a kid anymore, had graduated college alongside you only last year, so his presence on the team was needed a lot more. His missions were less juvenile, so losing touch for a week at a time was nothing new.

As you threw on a coat to combat the biting New York air, you tried not to dwell on the worst. It couldn’t be helped though, and as soon as you stepped into your apartment hallway, shoulder grazing your door, tears filled your eyes. If Tony could see where Peter currently was...and he wasn’t able to get in touch with him...then that meant he was dead right? You shook your head, locking your door and tightening your fingers around your purse. There could be so many reasons for that. It didn’t mean he was dead.

The entire drive to upstate New York was a quiet one. You couldn’t even find it in yourself to fill the car with mind-numbing music to distract you. Your fingers were tight on the wheel, legs so tense that when you finally arrived at the compound, they actually hurt when you stepped out of the car. You leaned your back against the vehicle, the warmth seeping through your coat, and you released an unsteady breath.

You had known Peter since high school, easily finding a place with him and Ned, and eventually, MJ too. When Ned and MJ took their college education elsewhere, you had remained. You told yourself it was to save money, a partial truth, but you never wanted to admit that it was also to stay by Peter’s side. You couldn’t imagine being away from him. It was pathetic really, but Peter was more than some guy you loved. He was your best friend.

“I had a feeling you’d show up here.”

The familiar voice reached your ears, and you looked up at Wanda just as she floated down next to you. Her auburn hair was ruffled with a gentle breeze, her eyes sympathetic as she reached out to pull you into her side.

“They will find him,” she assured you.

You could hear Sam on the phone as soon as she guided you inside of the compound, and he sent you a tense smile and wave, which you returned. You could faintly hear other voices as well, and you figured that everyone who stayed back was wrapped up in doing whatever they could to get in contact with Peter. You felt helpless.

“What can I do?” you asked Wanda, already knowing the answer.

“Just be here,” she told you, making you sigh.

“Wanda…”

You gave her a reproachful look, and she smiled at you.

“We know you’re worried just like the rest of us, probably even more than the rest of us,” you swallowed at her knowing look. “...but everything will be okay. The last thing we need is you putting yourself in harm’s way or bursting a blood vessel.”

You nodded, heeding her words. You made your way to your room with a heavy heart. You were far from being a member of the team, you could barely throw a proper punch, but seeing as you came over so often with Peter, sometimes in the dead of night, Tony decided to have you a room put in. Right next to Peter’s.

One of his old college sweatshirts was on your desk, still there from the last time you borrowed it, and without thinking, you got undressed and put it on. It still smelled like him, and with the scent of your best friend filling your nose, you laid down and sought out sleep.

The next day brought bad news. They had found Peter’s suit, but no Peter. It explained his stationary location and their lack of success with getting in touch with him. You had just stepped into the door of the room when Tony told them, his virtual face wracked with fear and worry, something you weren’t used to seeing.

You could tell that you weren’t meant to hear the news just yet by the way Nat’s eyes widened when she finally noticed you. The rest of the team turned as she hurriedly rose, making her way to you just as your face crumbled.

“Y/N-.”

“Wh-what does that mean? What does he mean?”

Tony’s voice faded as she pulled you from the room, and you almost tripped over your feet as your legs shook.

“Hey, Y/N, it’s going to be okay,” she said, attempting to calm you.

“What does he mean by that? Why doesn’t he have his suit- where is he?”

You were in your room now, and she shushed you as she guided you to your bed. You sat down, staring at your feet as your brain whirled. You hadn’t realized how fast your heart was beating, and your whole body shook as you fought to process this news.

“I don’t understand,” you mumbled, more to yourself than the spy before you.

She came into your vision as she knelt before you, her hands taking yours.

“Me neither,” she mumbled.

You fingered Peter’s shirt. You were still wearing it, just with some jeans, and Nat observed the movement.

“How long?” she quietly asked.

She didn’t need to elaborate. You knew what she was asking.

“Since…” you shrugged, releasing a heavy breath. “...practically since forever.”

“Does he know?”

You sadly shook your head. She pursed her lips, red hair framing her face as she studied you.

“We’re going to find him, and when we do, you can tell him. Okay?”

You nodded.

“Okay,” you quietly replied.

Nat didn’t stay for long, and you guessed that she needed to get back to the team to plan the best course of action. You barely left your room for the rest of the day, not having much of an appetite nor energy for anything. It was late in the evening when you found yourself making your way to Peter’s room. You lost count of how many times you slept in here, but Peter was usually with you, and if not, he at least showed up at some point. You liked waking up to the sound of his soft snores.

It felt weird with him gone, even weirder when you accounted for the fact that you didn’t know when he’d be back. If he’d be back. Your face almost crumbled at the thought, and you laid down, grabbing one of his pillows and hugging it to your chest, unable to stop the tears that spilled over, no matter how much you tried.

You slept in his room for days, and for days there was still no sign of him. The team was beyond worried now. You knew it, no matter how much they tried to portray otherwise. They were getting restless and scared. You couldn’t exactly say that you were any different though.

Sleep was hard to find, and even when you did, you found yourself tossing and turning throughout the night. Every time you woke up, you kept hoping that he’d be there, that you’d hear his voice. You were met with a dark empty room each time though, and it always broke your heart. After Peter had been missing for 8 days, Wanda finally came to you.

“I think you should go home,” she told you.

You were sitting cross legged on Peter’s bed, and she sat before you, hands in her lap with her feet on the floor. You frowned at her, wondering if you had overstayed your welcome, but she continued.

“It’s not that we don’t want you here, because you know we love having you around, but… You do not look good, Y/N.”

You squirmed under her concerned stare, clearing your throat.

“I’m fine,” you quietly argued.

“You’re not, and that’s okay. You just...you look exhausted and worried, and you’ve lost weight. A considerable amount in such a short time. What would Peter think if he came back right now and saw that you weren’t properly taking care of yourself?” she wondered.

Guilt flooded you, and you reluctantly nodded.

“I know that being here brings you some comfort, but I don’t think it’s worth the toll it’s taking on you.”

Your shoulders sagged, and you reluctantly admitted that she was right. You wanted to be near Peter in any way you could, but constantly waiting and listening out for any news was stressing you out.

“Go home. Sleep in your own bed. Get some rest. You can always come back,” she said.

“Okay.”

So, you did. You took a shower as soon as you made it back to your apartment, finding another one of Peter’s shirts he’d left. You forced yourself to at least eat something of substance, and when you had all you could take, you made a cup of tea. You had tried to watch tv, but funnily enough, the news was reporting on a crime that Spider-Man’s had helped solve months ago. Unable to stomach it, you turned the tv off and opted for bed.

Strangely enough, you were able to sleep better in your own bed. It happened quickly, and you didn’t toss or turn much. The first time you floated back to consciousness, it must have been around 3 in the morning. It was the longest you’d slept in days, and you knew that you’d be drifting back soon. However, you faintly noted that goosebumps had erupted over your skin, like you were cold.

Considering it was cold outside, you kept your heater blasting.

You blinked, staring at your window. It was closed, but the curtains were parted, and you could see that it was snowing outside. For the first time in days, a small smile tugged at your lips, and with a sigh, you rolled over. A dark figure was standing beside your bed, and the scream that you let out echoed through the apartment, filled with terror.

You fought back against them as they reached for you, struggling to get away and move further back on the bed. Their hands were cool, like they’d been outside for a while with no gloves. You were sitting up, pushing against them when they reached over and flicked on your lamp. When light flooded the room, your eyes widened.

Peter stood before you, dressed casually in dark clothes and looking completely unharmed. You sharply inhaled, all of your breath leaving you as your lips parted, eyes welling with tears. You blinked a few times, feeling like you might have been dreaming, but Peter remained. You reached out to him with shaking hands, and your vision had started to blur.

“Hey, breathe. Breathe, Y/N,” he softly ordered, brows furrowed.

You did as he said, and your chest burned as you moved closer. You slid off of the bed, moving to stand up, but your legs were unsteady. Peter caught you just as you fell into his arms, wrapping your own around him. You buried your face into his chest, your tears wetting his shirt, and he enveloped you in his arms as he shushed you.

You were shaking so much, and you just couldn’t stop. You couldn’t believe that he was here, and he looked perfectly fine. You sobbed into his chest, and you felt him tighten his arms around you. You clung to him, maneuvering to bury your face into the crook of his neck, feeling guilty about his shirt. You could feel him do the same, his nose brushing against your skin, and he took a long inhale, breathing you in.

“You’re okay,” you blubbered.

“Yeah...yeah, I’m okay,” he whispered.

You pulled away from him, roaming your eyes over him before meeting his own eyes.

“Where...where have you been? Everyone is looking for you,” you softly told him.

“I know,” he replied, looking sheepish.

“We have to call Tony,” you said, reaching for your phone.

Peter stopped you before you could, his hand tight on your wrist, and you found yourself wincing at his harsh grip. You looked at him with a frown, heart skipping a beat at his sudden dark countenance. He swallowed, and your eyes were briefly drawn to the subtle movement in his throat before he eventually let you go.

“I can’t...I can’t go back,” he told you, shaking his head.

Your eyes widened at him, and confusion filled you. What?

“What are...what are you talking about? Everyone is worried sick, more worried than I’ve ever seen them. Peter, they have no idea where you are or if you’re even okay! We should at least tell them-.”

You swallowed the rest of your words as you noticed that he made to leave.

“I shouldn’t be here. I shouldn’t have come here-.”

“Wait, wait!”

You grabbed onto the back of his shirt. You weren’t any match for him, but you were thankful that he halted. You wrapped your arms around him from behind, your lips brushing his shoulder as you spoke.

“Stay. Please stay,” you whispered.

His shoulders heaved as he sighed, and you continued.

“I’m sorry, okay? We don’t...we don’t have to tell them anything. If you don’t want to go back that’s fine, but… I’ve been so worried.”

That last part was said so softly, it was a wonder he even heard you. He didn’t say anything, nor did he move for a while, but eventually he turned around, and you let your arms fall. When your eyes met his again, you watched the way they narrowed, forehead creasing just a bit. You didn’t understand why until he reached up to press his fingers to the skin beneath your eyes. You could see the disapproval in his eyes, and all you could offer was a shrug.

“I was so worried.”

Peter blinked, face falling before he pulled you into his arms again. You returned the hug and let your eyes fall closed, just basking in the feel of him. You could hear his heartbeat, so slow...and so faint, something that seemed impossible. You told yourself you were imagining it.

“You’ll stay, right?”

He threw you a small smile when you pulled back to look at him, and you watched the way his dark eyes ran over you, lingering on your neck a tad longer than the rest of you before his eyes met yours again.

“Yeah, I’ll stay.”

You smiled at him, pulling him towards your bed. You settled in, only just realizing how cold you had gotten, while Peter got in behind you. Your head hit the pillow just as he turned the light out, and you frowned when you noticed that he wasn’t completely laying down. He was on his side, facing you with his head propped up onto his hand.

“You’re not tired?”

His eyes trailed to your window, staring out into the night for a moment before he shook his head.

“No...not really.”

You chuckled.

“So you’re just going to watch me sleep?” you wondered.

He reached towards you with his other hand, brushing his fingers along your neck and collarbone, fingers cool against your warm skin. A shudder passed through you.

“I missed you,” was his only answer, and it made your heart soar.

You knew that he didn’t miss you like you missed him, but it made you happy to hear that nonetheless.

“I missed you too.”

He didn’t respond, and you closed your eyes, the feel of his fingers on your skin oddly soothing. He always made you nervous, but not tonight. You wondered if it was because you had gone without him for so long, unsure if he would ever return. Sleep was just within your reach, but something weighed on your mind that prevented you from grabbing hold of it.

“Why don’t you want to go back?”

Your voice was small in the otherwise quiet room, and when Peter didn’t answer right away, you peeled your eyes open. He had stopped touching you, fingers curling into the covers as his jaw clenched.

“They won’t want me back.”

You frowned, forcing yourself to sit up. You blinked at him a few times, lips parting as you processed what that meant. Why wouldn’t they want him back? Peter was part of the team, one of the most loved members of the team. Said team was practically sick with worry, had been for over a week. Despite the fact that Peter was right in front of you and seemingly safe and sound, worry began to take hold again.

“Why wouldn’t they want you back?”

Your best friend didn’t answer you, and your worry grew, heartbeat picking up. Peter’s eyes were on you now as he sat up too, so focused and intense.

“What happened on your mission, Peter? What happened in Bulgaria?”

Again, Peter didn’t respond, but the minute you moved closer to him, he snatched your arm. Startled, you almost fell over, but his fingers curled around your wrist and pulled you closer, guiding the palm of your hand right to his chest.

Where his heart was.

Again, like before, you noted that his heartbeat was so slow. And even fainter. It was almost nonexistent, and your brows crinkled. You had felt and heard his heartbeat many times before since he’d become Spider-Man, and you knew that this was no effect of the spider bite. You had a hard time wrapping your mind around what you were feeling, and you looked at him again.

“I have...I have to tell you something…”

You fought to keep your worry at bay, noting the way Peter’s voice shook.

“I may even have to show you...but you have to promise me…”

His hand tightened on your wrist, and he released a shaky breath.

“...promise me that you won’t be scared.”

Scared of Peter? He was your best friend, and you couldn’t ever imagine being afraid of him. Still, you felt like he needed this so you nodded.

“Okay.”

Peter’s side of the bed was empty when you woke up, and your heart lurched in a mild panic before you realized why. The sun shone through your window, bathing your room in the warm rays, and you swallowed as you wondered where he could’ve gone.

“I’m right here.”

You snapped your head up to find him standing in the hall, just outside of your doorway. He was out of the sun’s reach, and you slid out of bed to join him. He was watching you like he couldn’t anticipate your next move, and you sent him a smile to reassure him.

“Do you...need anything…?”

You didn’t come right out and say it, but you both knew what you were asking. He studied you for a moment before shaking his head.

“No. I...ate before I came here last night,” he told you.

You nodded and folded your arms over your chest with a long sigh. You could feel his eyes on you as you looked away.

“Look, Peter...I know you're not going to like what I have to say, but…”

You chanced a glance at him and found his dark eyes narrowed at you.

“I think you need to tell Tony.”

He briefly closed his eyes before letting them fall to the ground, hands shoved in his pockets.

“If anyone can help you, he can.”

Peter scoffed, a humorless sound.

“Help me with what? It’s not like he can fix this, Y/N. This goes past Tony Stark and all of his intellect,” he practically spat, frustration coloring his tone. “This is what I am now.”

You grabbed his hands, squeezing them as you moved closer.

“I know, I know. I just meant...maybe he can help you safely get what you need.”

His eyes met yours, albeit reluctantly.

“...and maybe he can help you control your appetite better. That way...that way you won’t hurt anyone else,” you quietly finished, recalling everything he’d told you.

Guilt passed through Peter’s features at the reminder of what he’d done. He closed his eyes, practically squeezing them shut as his shoulders heaved, a small sigh escaping him.

“Maybe...you’re right,” he hesitantly admitted.

You could see the war going on within him when he opened his eyes, conflict and guilt and self-loathing all passing over his face.

“Hey.”

He looked at you.

“You’re still you. You just...your diet’s a little different now, that’s all.”

He cracked a smile, a small chuckle leaving him, and you joined him.

“When the sun goes down, we’ll go to the compound, and...and everything will be okay,” you promised him.

He nodded, and hours later, when the sun was safely behind the horizon, that was what you did. You drove. Peter was still wary of his new strength, strength that far surpassed what he had before. Your wrist was still sore from when he’d grabbed you last night, but you didn’t want him to feel any worse than he already did.

Having called Tony on the way, he was waiting outside when you arrived. As per requested, he was the only one. You didn’t want Peter to get overwhelmed. You weren’t exactly sure of what he was capable of now, neither one of you really were, and you didn’t want to stress him out.

Tony had pulled him into a hug the minute he reached him, and your heart clenched for many reasons. You hoped that you’d made the right decision. Tony loved Peter. He’d help him, right? When he pulled away, the bearded man’s eyes flickered between the two of you with a frown.

“So you’re going to tell me what the hell this is all about?”

Before you could respond, Peter moved to pull him inside.

“It’s a long story, Mr. Stark…”

His voice trailed off as they went inside, and with a small sigh, you eventually followed. Neither one of them were present, and you figured that they went to the lab. You had a feeling that everyone else was there too, or at least not far off. They’d been worried sick and now Peter was back, seemingly unharmed. Of course they’d be concerned and curious.

Wanda was the only one who greeted you, and her eyes were wide as they met yours. They were a bit accusatory, even fearful, and you pursed your lips. She probably didn’t mean to, but it was easy to guess that she’d been inside of Peter’s head. She knew, and there was no telling what she saw. 

“Y/N…?”

You shook your head.

“He’s still him, Wanda. Okay? Everything is going to be fine.”

She didn’t look convinced, but she didn’t argue as you moved past her to go to your room. You didn’t see anyone else the rest of the night, and you knew that they were all caught up with Peter. Figuring out how this happened, running tests, coming up with the best course of action. You were in and out of sleep when you heard Peter come into your room in the early hours of the morning.

He wrapped his arms around you as he slid in behind you, and even though he wasn’t as warm as he used to be, the familiarity of it all immediately relaxed you. You felt him bury his nose in your hair, taking a deep breath as he breathed you in, fingers brushing over the skin of your arms.

“Everything okay?” you mumbled, referring to Tony and the rest of the team.

“Yeah,” he whispered. “He wants me to drink pig’s blood, but yeah. Everything’s okay.”

You chuckled at that, sleep finding you once more as you smiled at Peter’s joke. However, it was the next day when you discovered that he hadn’t been joking at all.

“You’re serious?”

Peter nodded with a frown, arms crossed over his chest as he leaned against the counter.

“He wants to start weaning me off of human blood and start transitioning to animal blood,” he grumbled.

You noted that he wasn’t happy about that, and your curiosity got the better of you.

“Is that bad?”

“Not necessarily, no,” he sighed. “He thinks it’ll help me. That maybe I’ll...crave human blood less and it’ll lower my chances of losing control around someone.”

You blinked, wondering if you agreed with that.

“I mean, he doesn’t exactly know. This is all just trial and error, right now, because probably for the first time in Mr. Stark’s life, he’s stumped,” Peter said with a shrug. “...but it’s worth a shot.”

You felt like there was more to it, like he wanted to say something else.

“He doesn’t know that I already tried that,” he whispered.

You leaned against the opposite counter, watching as his frown deepened, eyes troubled.

“When I woke up...I felt like I had swallowed fire,” he murmured. “My teeth hurt, my throat burned, and my mind was going a mile a minute. I felt like I was losing it.”

He sounded angry as he glared at the floor.

“The only thing that even smelled slightly appealing was…”

He trailed off, shaking his head, a light chuckle leaving him.

“I must have killed at least 100 animals. Anything I could get my hands on… It was like an itch I couldn’t scratch, only 1,000 times worse. It wasn’t until...it wasn’t until I came across those hikers…”

He swallowed his words, letting his face fall into his hands. You neared him, resting your hand on his arm.

“It was the first time I’d felt okay in days. I could finally freaking think,” he said through clenched teeth, letting his hands fall. “There I was...covered in blood...surrounded by bodies of innocent people...and I was finally at peace.”

You pulled him into a hug as he recounted what he’d already told you. You knew that Peter wouldn’t ever forget that moment, but God, you wanted him to. That wasn’t who he was, you knew it, and you wanted him to know it too. He pressed his face into the crook of your neck, nose brushing over the skin, and his hands rested on your waist.

Your conversation with Nat weighed on your heart. Like she’d said, Peter was back, and you could finally tell him, but it didn’t seem appropriate. The man had been attacked and turned into something you thought only existed in books. This was a hard time for him, and it seemed silly to drop one more thing onto him, one more thing that could definitely wait.

“I wouldn’t get too close to him if I were you, Y/N. He might mistake you for a quarter pounder.”

You pulled away just as Bucky’s deep chuckle reached your ears, and you turned to see both him and Sam enter the kitchen. Sam seemed pleased with his little joke.

“You’re not funny,” you told him, completely unamused.

“It’s a little funny,” Bucky disagreed, and you huffed.

You felt Peter pull away, and by the time you looked over your shoulder, he was gone.

“Seriously?”

You threw them an incredulous look, and Sam shrugged.

“Look, we’ve got to find some humor in this okay? The kid’s got fangs and he lives off of blood now,” Sam said like it was the most absurd thing in the world.

Considering that you all were friends with literal Gods and even a woman who controlled the weather, you were inclined to disagree.

“This is hard for him, okay?”

You weren’t sure if they knew the full extent of what he’d done, but you heard Sam sigh, and Bucky at least looked a little sheepish.

“I’m sure he’ll joke about it when he’s ready, but please let him do it in his own time. His whole life has changed...again.”

“Yeah, well, welcome to the club,” Bucky sighed.

You rolled your eyes and turned away with a scoff.

“What’d I say?” you heard Bucky ask, but you were already making your way to Peter’s room.

You were surprised that he told you to come in when you knocked, and you slowly stepped inside. He was on his bed, hand behind his head as he scrolled through his phone.

“You okay?”

He let his hand fall, greeting you with a smile.

“Yeah, I’m good. They don’t mean any harm, so I’m not going to let it get to me,” he replied, reaching for you.

You joined him on the bed, laying your head on his shoulder as he told F.R.I.D.A.Y to turn on the tv.

“Want to watch a movie with me? As silly as it seems, all I could think about was curling up with you and watching a movie the whole time I was away,” he confessed.

Your heart fluttered, sure he could hear it, but he didn’t comment on it. His arm slid around your waist, pulling you closer, and you nodded.

“Yeah, I’d love to.”

His hand tightened on your hip as you figured out what movie to put on.

Every day, Peter went to the lab with Tony and Bruce, and every time he returned, he always seemed irritated. You tried not to comment on the harshness of his eyes and tautness of his jaw, but eventually, you had to express your concern.

“It’s nothing,” he told you one day. “They just keep treating me like some science experiment gone wrong.”

He played it off like no big deal, but you could tell that he was genuinely bothered.

“...and its this stupid diet or whatever you can even call it! It’s not working. It’s not satisfying or fulfilling, at all. I can’t taste a damn thing, I’m just drinking to get full? If that’s what you can even call it. It does absolutely nothing to satisfy me or quell this desire…”

He trailed off at your light chuckle. 

“Alright, Edward Cullen.”

He threw you a hard look, and you swallowed your laughs. While he was finally making jokes about the situation himself now, you realized that now was not the time.

“Sorry…”

He heaved a long sigh, turning to stare out of the window.

“You wanna get out of here?” he suddenly asked.

You blinked at him.

“Now?”

He glanced at the clock, and so did you. It was almost 2 in the morning.

“I can’t think of a better time,” he replied.

You chewed on your lip.

“Where?”

“Anywhere,” he shrugged. “Just for a little bit…”

He hadn’t left the compound in weeks, Tony far too paranoid, and you could see how much he needed this.

“Okay.”

That was how 40 minutes later, you found your car parked near a small pond while you and Peter leaned against it, staring at the full moon. Neither one of you had said anything since you left, and you guessed that Peter was in his thoughts. You couldn’t blame him.

“You know, if I’d been bitten by a werewolf, we’d be having a totally different night, right now.”

You barked a laugh, and he joined you.

“If you were bitten by a werewolf, I’d be trying to play fetch with you,” you replied.

He chuckled again, and the two of you fell into another easy silence. Your eyes narrowed a bit as something weighed on your mind, and you suddenly crossed your arms over your chest.

“Why won’t Tony let you have any human blood? I mean, blood banks exist…”

Peter sighed, a frustrated sound, and you turned to look at him. The cool nightly breeze blew his dark hair around his face, and his jaw clenched.

“He thinks it’ll make me crave it more. Kind of like an addict, you know?”

You shook your head, disagreeing with that.

“...but...it’s not. This is part of your DNA, now, is it not? He shouldn’t be looking at it like a drug but instead like...food. It’s what you need to survive, now,” you explained.

“You’re right...but that’s blood I’d be taking away from people who need it. Besides, it’d be pretty messed up of me to…‘convince’ some stranger to let me drink from them and then alter their memory of the whole thing,” he mumbled.

“That’s right. You did tell me you can do that, now,” you mused.

“I’m pretty sure it’ll come in handy during missions. You know, if I ever go on one again,” he complained.

Your heart hurt for Peter. His entire life had been turned on its head again. He couldn’t go on missions, couldn’t even see his aunt, and on top of it all, he couldn’t even satisfy the craving his body had for what it actually needed. You pursed your lips and glanced at him again. You were positive he noticed before, but this time he commented on it.

“What?”

You glanced away from him, heart speeding up a bit as you wrung your hands together.

“What about me?”

He didn’t respond right away, and when you looked at him again, his eyes were on you. They were narrowed, hard, but you could see the spark of something in them that gave you hope that maybe this wasn’t such a horrible idea after all. Peter’s lips parted, his sharp teeth glinting in the moonlight before he snapped his mouth shut. He cleared his throat.

“You...you would do that?”

“Of course,” you said with a frown, turning your body completely to face him. “This is what you need, and you’re my best friend, and I’m willing. So you don’t have to let your morals get in the way.”

Peter stared at you for what seemed like a long time, eyes roaming over every inch of you. You watched as he swallowed, the conflict written all over his face. You could see that he was scared, afraid that he’d hurt you, but you could also see the fire in his eyes, the desire to take you up on your offer.

“Worst case scenario-.”

“You die?”

You rolled your eyes at him, stepping closer.

“You won’t let me die, Peter. We both know it,” you whispered, pushing your sleeve up and holding your arm out.

Peter’s dark eyes snapped to the bared skin, no doubt tracing the veins that you couldn’t see. Hesitantly, he grabbed your wrist, taking a deep breath before slowly lifting your arm as he bent his head. His breath, like everything else about him now, was cool against your skin. You watched as he closed his eyes, dark lashes contrasting against his fair skin, before opening his mouth. You barely got a glimpse of his sharp canines in all of their glory before they were sinking into your arm.

The reaction from you both was instantaneous. 

A loud gasp escaped you, but not from pain. No. Your body heated up like never before, blood on fire as Peter let out an equally loud groan. An addicting sense of euphoria descended over you, and you felt your legs shaking, lashes fluttering as you struggled to keep your eyes open. Sensing this, Peter reached out with his free hand and tangled it within your hair, pulling you closer until your head leaned against his shoulder.

You could feel him moving forward, and he didn’t stop until your back was against your car. His hand tightened in your hair, almost painfully, but all you let out was a moan, your breath choppy and lips trembling as he pressed his leg in between yours. Your free hand clutched his jacket, attempting to pull him closer, and a low moan escaped his own throat as he pushed his thigh more firmly against your now heated core.

You faintly noted that this was a lot more erotic than you anticipated, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to care. He was still pressing your head to his shoulder, and your lips brushed the fabric of his jacket as you murmured his name.

“Peter...Peter…”

You couldn’t tell if you were asking him to stop or not, but considering this was the best high you’d ever been on, you concluded that you were not. Suddenly, all too soon, Peter practically ripped himself away from you, and you would’ve fallen to the ground if he hadn’t caught you. Your chest was heaving, so was his, and when you peeled your eyes open, his own wide ones were focused on you.

“Shit,” he cursed, looking like he was seconds away from getting in trouble. “Shit, shit, shit. I shouldn’t have done that. Mr. Stark is going to kill me…”

“Hey...it’s okay,” you panted, weakly reaching up to brush a dark strand out of his face. “I’m okay. How do you feel?”

He seemed stumped by the question, and he suddenly blinked, brows drawn together as he stared down at you. His lips were stained with your blood.

“I...haven’t felt this satisfied in weeks,” he whispered, looking at you strangely.

You weakly chuckled, eyes fluttering closed.

“Good.”

You had only been seconds away from falling when he caught you, and he finally straightened as he lifted you into his arms. You could feel yourself on the verge of sleep...or was it the verge of death? Either way, you were happy that Peter was happy. He gently deposited you into the passenger’s seat, strapping you into place. Your head lolled as he shut the door, facing him as he settled behind the wheel.

You could feel his eyes on you, and with difficulty, you opened yours again. He was staring at you with that look again, and you were sure he thought you crazy for putting your life in danger like that. The car was quiet, just the sound of your shallow breathing could be heard, and you thought to yourself that you kind of wanted to tell him you loved him. However, before you could, Peter leaned over and pressed his blood-stained lips to yours.

It was quick and soft, just the barest of touches, but it made your eyes widen nonetheless. You stared at him as he sat back and started the car, and you wanted to keep staring at him, wanted to ask him what the hell was that, but sleep finally got to you before you could.

It was days before you finally discussed what had happened, and that was only because it was days before Peter needed to “feed” again.

“I think I can go longer without when it’s human blood...because it’s what actually satisfies me. What my body needs,” he murmured one night while you were watching a movie you’d both seen a million times.

“That’s a good thing. Surely Tony will see that this is the best thing to do. This is what will keep you in control and allow you to go on missions again...see your aunt May…”

You had decided to keep what happened between the two of you, but you didn’t exactly feel right about it. Peter sighed and shook his head.

“No. I think he’d send me away,” he quietly told you.

You quickly moved your head to look up at him, your cheek on his chest as you stared at him with wide eyes.

“What are you talking about?”

“He’s been doing research, trying to find others like me. I think he has. I overheard him talking to the captain and Sam one day. He’s thinking about sending me somewhere I can learn to control my thirst and utilize my new…abilities or whatever,” he grumbled.

You fully sat up now, looking down at him with a stricken expression. His eyes finally moved away from the screen, and he smiled at you, rubbing your back in a soothing manner. 

“I’m not going to let him send me away, Y/N, but he’ll definitely try if we tell him what happened.”

You nodded, forcing your heart to slow before you laid back down. Peter’s hand was still on your back, tracing patterns into your, well, his shirt. You listened to his slow heartbeat, the organ pumping what was left of your blood through his body. Your lashes fluttered when he dragged his fingers up to your neck, the appendages playing with the hair there. You found yourself humming when he tightened his hold there, and you looked up in confusion, prepared to ask him what he was doing when his other hand gripped your arm, and he pulled you up.

His lips met yours in a kiss that was nothing like the first one. You gasped against his mouth, and he wasted no time before taking the opportunity to taste the inside of yours. Peter moaned into the kiss, circling both arms around you now as he rolled the both of you over. He settled himself between your parted legs, and you sharply inhaled at the bulge you felt there.

Peter’s hand traveled to your neck again, grasping the hair at the nape, holding you in place as he dragged his mouth down. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head as he bit you, throwing your hands out to grasp anything you could. Your right hand hit the lamp on the nightstand, and it fell to the floor with a soft crash. Peter’s other hand pressed into your back, forcing you to arch your chest into his.

His hips were rolling into yours, his clothed member pressing against the most sensitive part of you so deliciously. You let out a soft moan, one hand clawing at his shirt, pushing the fabric up to drag your nails along his back. Peter had you completely pinned in between him and the mattress, every curve of his hips sending pleasure through you.

“Peter,” you moaned, reaching up to drag your hand along the headboard. “Fuck, Peter.”

You could feel your blood crawling past your neck, staining his sheets, but he didn’t seem to care. The bed shook a bit from his movements, and you hooked one leg on his waist as he continued to grind into you. You could feel yourself fading, and you welcomed it, and before you could, one particularly slow roll of his hips sent you over the edge.

You were a moaning mess as you came beneath him, his teeth still embedded in your neck. Your whole body shook, legs practically vibrating as they fell around him, chest heaving as he finally pulled away. He licked at your neck, and your arms fell to the bed, soft murmurs leaving your lips to which Peter chuckled at. He brushed his thumb over your lip before leaning back down, lips grazing your ear.

“Go to sleep,” he whispered. “I’ll be here when you wake up.”

You did, he was, and he greeted you with a kiss, further filling you with confusion as you wondered just what you were. You didn’t want to ruin it, didn’t want to break the spell by trying to make him define this. You simply wanted to enjoy whatever this was, and enjoy it you did.

Every few days or so, you found yourself squirming beneath Peter one way or another. Sometimes he simply pressed kisses along your neck as he rolled his hips into yours, sometimes his teeth were in you, and sometimes his fingers were in you, the sound of it so loud as he thrust them in and out of your fluttering core. The rest of the team was none the wiser as you both satisfied each other in more ways than one. It was usually in the dead of night when everyone else was asleep, and Peter was wide awake.

“Ngh, Peter,” you panted, fingers twisted into his dark locks.

You were completely naked before him, a first, as he swiped his tongue over your wet folds, another first. His own fingers were pressed into your thighs, holding them down in a way that hurt so good. The cool air hit the bite mark on the inside of your left thigh, and you hissed as Peter slid his tongue past your slick walls, tasting every inch of you that he could.

A thin layer of sweat covered your frame, and you realized that you lost track of how long Peter had been alternating between tasting your blood and tasting your lips. His mouth completely covered you, and you shuddered when he sucked on your little bundle of nerves, sharp teeth grazing your sensitive skin.

You could feel your...3rd? 4th? Or was it the 5th climax of the night that you felt approaching? You were so tired, but Peter didn’t seem to have gotten his fill of you, and his lips kissed along your mound before traveling to the space in the crease of your thigh before he swiped his tongue over your thigh itself, the unmarked one. It was dark in the room, and when Peter glanced up at you, dark promises in his eyes, you noted that they almost seemed to glow in the dark, like that of a feline.

He wasted no time before sinking his teeth into your skin again, and you pressed your hand to your mouth to keep from making too much noise. You knew that he’d ordered F.R.I.D.A.Y to soundproof the room, but it was a force of habit by now. Your climax crashed over you like a tidal wave, and that was how you fell asleep that night, with Peter’s face in between your legs, drinking from you in any way he saw fit.

“Look who decided to grace us with her presence,” Bucky sarcastically greeted as you walked into the kitchen the next morning.

Steve threw you a sheepish smile, visibly sorry on Bucky’s behalf for his behavior.

“Cut it out, Buck.”

“I’m just acknowledging that the princess has been holed up in her room more often than not as of late. If I didn’t know any better, I would’ve thought you went home, but I noticed that you’re still eating my cereal, the only other person who eats the kind I like, so…”

You rolled your eyes as he trailed off, and he reached out to pull on your shirt as you neared.

“What’s with the turtleneck, squirt? I know it’s freezing outside, but in case you haven’t noticed, it’s 77 degrees in here.”

You tensed at his words, and you ignored the way Steve eyed you over his mug.

“I just think I’m coming down with something is all. I’m a little chillier than usual today,” you lied.

He simply hummed, and that was when you finally noticed his attire. Steve too.

“Are you guys going on a mission?”

“You’d know the answer to that if you actually left your room once in a while,” Bucky grumbled, and Steve lightly shoved his shoulder.

“Yeah, the whole team’s heading out. Well...except…” Steve trailed off, and you nodded. “...but Nat and Sam are supposed to be returning from their assignment today, so they’ll be back later.”

You nodded at Steve’s words, not quite liking the way that he was studying you. You hurriedly poured your own cup of coffee, quietly telling them to “be safe” before moving to get out of Steve’s watchful eye.

Hours later found you and Peter on the couch, hardly paying any attention to the movie before you. You had the compound to yourselves, something you looked forward to, but Peter had other ideas than that of what you were thinking.

“You want to...leave?”

You frowned at him, unsure that you heard him right. Peter was facing you with his elbow on the back of the couch, propping his head up as his other hand traced your collarbone.

“Yeah,” he whispered. “Mr. Stark...I think he’s getting serious about sending me away for a while. I think he suspects us, but I’m not sure.”

You mulled over his suggestion, unsure of how you felt about it.

“They couldn’t even find me last time. I’d make sure they’d never find us,” he told you.

“I...I don’t know. I mean, I love you, but I’d miss everyone else,” you replied.

When you looked to him, he looked surprised, and his lips parted as he blinked at you.

“...what?”

Your brows drew together.

“What?”

He scooted closer, a slow grin forming on his pink lips.

“You love me?”

You scoffed at him.

“Of course. Peter, I’ve been in love with you for as long as I can remember,” you finally confessed.

You thought that it would’ve been obvious by now, but Peter just looked as if you told him he’d won a million dollars. Before you could register it, he reached out to pull you into a kiss. It was passionate and full of yearning...and hungry. You wrapped your arms around his neck and moved closer, Peter’s hand pressing into the small of your back. His lips trailed from your own down to your jaw, pressing kisses there and to your neck. You’d changed shirts as soon as everyone had left.

You knew what he wanted, what he needed, and you welcomed it as he pressed his teeth into your skin. A breathy moan climbed out of your throat as he laid you down. Your heart was going haywire in your chest, the realization that Peter returned your feelings finally hitting you. His hands ran over you, brushing over your breasts and down your sides before he hooked them underneath your thighs.

He pressed his bloody lips to your décolletage, nipping at the skin there before they grazed the swell of your breasts. He bit into the flesh that spilled over the top of your shirt, and you trembled beneath him, a loud moan escaping you. He growled into your skin, fingers pressing into your thighs almost painfully. You weren’t sure how long you remained beneath him, lashes fluttering and lips parted as ecstasy clouded your mind, but eventually, you felt yourself fading in a way you had never felt before.

Your vision blurred, and you could feel your heart starting to slow.

“Peter,” you worriedly murmured.

He seemed preoccupied with releasing himself from his jeans, fingers brushing over you as he reached underneath your skirt. You opened your mouth to protest, but all that came out was a choked sound, the sound transforming into a breathy gasp when he thrust into you.

“Peter,” you weakly called.

You could feel yourself fading fast, and Peter’s own breath was harsh as he drank from you, snapping his hips into yours with every thrust. You could faintly hear a door opening, and you wanted to warn him, but you could hardly move, let alone speak. Darkness creeped along the edge of your vision, and the last thing you heard before going under was a feminine scream.

You knew that you were in the infirmary before you even opened your eyes. The steady beep of the monitor next to you told you that whatever condition you had been in was pretty serious. You struggled to open them, but when your eyes finally peeled open, you noticed that the room was empty.

“Ms. Y/L/N, you’re awake,” F.R.I.D.A.Y noted. “I will inform Mr. Stark immediately.”

You cringed, squeezing your eyes shut at the mention of the last superhero you wanted to see. You just knew that you were going to get an earful, and you didn’t really care to hear it. You just wanted to know where Peter was and if he was okay.

Tony burst through the doors a lot sooner than you would have liked, and you avoided his eye. He didn’t say anything, and you knew that he was angry, because when did Tony Stark ever have absolutely nothing to say?

“Are you insane?” he finally wondered, and you sighed.

“Where’s Peter?”

“That doesn’t matter right now,” he snapped, and you finally looked at him as he stomped towards your bed. “You could’ve died.”

You shrank underneath his cold stare and harsh words, glancing away.

“Do you get that, Y/N? When Nat and Sam got here…”

He trailed off, face reddening as he was no doubt recalling what he’d been told, probably what he’d even seen thanks to F.R.I.D.A.Y. You watched as he swallowed, releasing a breath.

“Any later, and you would’ve been dead,” he whispered.

“I’m sorry,” you quietly told him. “I just wanted to help him.”

He heaved a long sigh, a tired and exasperated sound.

“I know you love him…”

You frowned at that, wondering if the whole damn team knew.

“...but he needs help from people who can help him. Help him to control himself, hone his new skills, help him so that he doesn’t kill you,” Tony finished, and you blinked back tears. “Go home and let us handle Peter. When the time is right, he’ll be able to see you again.”

The tears finally spilled over, and with a shake of his head, Tony left you. After a few more days in the infirmary, and several blood transfusions later, you did as Tony instructed. It felt strange to be back home after spending nearly 2 months at the compound with Peter. As you entered your room, sitting on your bed, you felt silly.

Tony had been right. You had almost died. You recalled the feel of your life literally slipping away as Peter drank from you, too lost in the taste and feel of you to notice that he was losing control. You had only wanted to help him, and you had ended up making things worse. Was Tony right to treat it like an addiction? Had you hindered Peter more than you helped him? You didn’t know. All you knew was that your actions almost led to your death at Peter’s hand, and that Tony’s actions had not.

You didn’t know where Peter was, but you had faith that he was alright. You hoped that Tony didn’t give him too hard of a time for what he’d done, but you knew that was unlikely. Nat, poor Nat, had literally walked in on him feeding from you and fucking you. There was no telling what the poor woman thought, and you hated the idea of them treating Peter like some wild animal that needed to be caged.

It was 3 nights later when you woke up to the feel of fingers ghosting over the side of your face as you slept. It took you a moment to register what was happening, but when you blinked your eyes open, you were surprised to come face to face with Peter as he stood over you.

“P-Peter?” 

You struggled to sit up, and you rubbed your eyes, noting the way his own dark ones lingered on your neck. 

“What are you doing here?”

“We’re getting out of here. C’mon,” he said, reaching for you.

You frowned at him, and you watched his own face fall.

“I don’t...I don’t think that’s a good idea,” you honestly told him.

He frowned at you, and guilt tore through you for more reasons than one.

“Don’t listen to Mr. Stark-.”

“Maybe I should’ve. Maybe...maybe he knew what he was talking about,” you said, cutting him off.

His hand fell to his side, and his dark eyes narrowed on you.

“You’re afraid of me,” he murmured.

“No! No...not really-.”

He cut you off with an angry sigh, and you folded your arms over your chest.

“I almost died, Peter!”

You watched the conflict on his features, brows furrowing ever so slightly.

“...and you would’ve never forgiven yourself...and I feel like it’s my fault…”

Peter stood over you, dressed plainly but darkly, chocolate locks kissing his forehead as he stared at you. He didn’t look happy.

“So you’re taking his side,” he surmised. 

“I just think you should hear him out,” you whispered. “We tried it our way...and look what happened.”

He didn’t say anything, and neither did you. You sat there, and he stood there, both of you just staring at each other. You watched the way Peter’s jaw clenched, and he suddenly reached out to tangle his fingers in your hair, pulling you into a kiss as he neared. You pressed your hands against his chest, but Peter forced his way onto your bed, knees pressed into the mattress on either side of you as he moved his mouth against yours.

“Mm, Peter,” you protested, turning your head away.

“They think I raped you, you know,” he quietly said, the loud sound of tearing fabric filling the room as he ripped your t-shirt straight down the middle.

Your eyes went wide at his words, and he chuckled, the corner of his lips quirking upwards into a smirk.

“Oh, yeah. They think I coerced you with my new abilities or even just flat out bit you and took you anyway I saw fit,” he whispered.

The irony of the situation was not lost on you, and you desperately fought against him. Your underwear was next, and you were no match against Peter’s newfound strength as he batted your hands away, moving to remove his own clothes.

“They don’t know that I had you squirming beneath me, purring and mewling like a desperate kitten.”

His voice was husky, thick with the desire to sink both his teeth and cock into you. He gripped your legs, separating them like it was nothing despite your efforts to keep them closed.

“They think that you’re bad for me…”

It was embarrassingly easy for him to slide into you, your velvet walls giving him a wet welcome. He sighed out as he pressed into you, dark eyes somehow darker.

“...they think I’ve formed some supernatural bond with you, some kind of blood tie…”

A choked moan slipped past your lips as he started to thrust into you, and Peter leaned down to press kisses to the corner of your mouth.

“...and they might be right, but it only cements what we both know.”

His hands pressed into the sheets beside your head, his labored breathing reaching your ears as he pulled back and snapped his hips into yours again and again. Your head was spinning from the way he dragged his cock through your clenching walls, completely unrelenting in his pace. While this technically wasn’t the first time he fucked you, it was the first time you were coherent enough to truly feel what was happening.

“Peter,” you murmured.

His nose brushed against yours with every thrust, and he released a shaky breath.

“...and what do we both know?”

There was a desperation in his eyes that took you by surprise, and your heart clenched.

“Say it...for me…”

You swallowed, lashes fluttering as he slowed down his thrusts.

“I’m yours.”

His own eyes fell closed at the admission, slowly sinking himself into you, basking in the feel of you wrapped around him.

“You gave me your blood...your body…”

He leaned down to trail kisses along your neck, rolling his hips against yours.

“...and you’ll give me your soul. You’re mine in every way a woman possibly can be. In every way a human can be,” he purred, sharp teeth grazing over your warm flesh.

His words made your stomach flutter, walls clenching around him, and just then, your phone buzzed. Like that first night, it was in your sheets somewhere, and the continuous buzzing told you that it was a phone call. You had a guess as to who it could be and what they wanted.

They were looking for Peter.

You looked to him when he paused, watching as his face darkened. He wrapped his hand around your noisy phone before throwing it at the wall, the device shattering upon impact. His dark eyes met yours again, and he kissed you, stealing your breath away as he moved within you again.

“They want to know if I’m with you...if you’re safe…”

You could feel him smiling against your lips, and your nails pressed into his sides, hanging on as he pushed his knees beneath your thighs, widening your legs and forcing a guttural moan from you.

“They think you’re in danger around me...and they’re probably right, but not the kind of danger they’re thinking of.”

One of his hands fisted itself into your hair, pulling your head back, baring your throat to him, and you knew what was coming.

“You don’t know how much I fought with myself that first night...how badly I wanted to tear into you anyway I could,” he whispered, voice strained. “You were all I thought about when I was attacked...when I changed…”

His hips sped up, the sound of slapping skin filling the room as he pistoned into you.

“For your sake, I’m glad you gave yourself to me, because I planned to take you from the very moment I stepped into your bedroom.”

His teeth pressed into your neck, breaking the skin, and your climax washed over you, euphoria clouding your mind and senses as Peter drank from you. His thrusts didn’t stop, and one hand pressed into the headboard above you, blood staining your pillow as the bed shook from the movement of his thrusts. You knew that Peter was far from done for the night, finally claiming what he felt was rightfully his.

~

tags:  @darkficreposter​ @xoxabs88xox​​​​​​ @harryspet​​​​​​ @readermia​​​​​​ @opheliadawnwalker3​​​​​ @nickyl316h​​​​​​ @captainchrisstan​​​​​​ @sebabestianstan101​​​​​​ @villanellevi​​​​​​ @lokislastlove​​​​​​ @notyourtypicalrose​​​​​​ @coconutqueen21​​​​​​ @hurricanerin​​​​​ ​​​ @hyoyeoniie​​​​​ @kellyn1604​​​​​ @sherrybaby14​​​​​ @cocoamoonmalfoy​​​​ @mandiiblanche​​​​ @gotnofucks​​​​ @oneoftheprettynerds​​​​ @doozywoozy​​​​ @sapphirescrolls​​​​ @threeminutesoflife​​​​ @searchforanotherway​​​​ @mcudarklibrary​​​ @ksjksjkv​ @darkficsyouneveraskedfor​

#dark!peter parker #dark peter parker #Dark!Peter #dark peter x reader #peter parker x reader #marvel fanfiction #Dark Fic

[lonely-lost-soul]

First Lady of the Court

Part 3: Ghostbur (C!Wilbur Soot x reader)

A worn journal was opened, the pages faded and yellowing, a pen was placed on the parchment and the owner began to write. The sun rose over the horizon, and the wind nipped at the writer's skin, but they didn’t feel it. They didn’t feel many of life's sensations anymore, sometimes he felt warmth but it was always fleeting. He titled the page:

"Things I Remember", by Ghostbur

-The smell of bread

- L'Manberg

- The Revolution

- Bullying Tommy (he's a child)

- Sparring with Techno as a kid

- The wind

- Being president

- People cheering for me

- Fundy growing up

- Niki

- (Y/N) becoming my first lady

- The van

- Tubbo building everything

- Phil protecting me

- Sally the salmon

- (Y/N) the new love of my life

- (Y/N) adoring Fundy and treating him as her own

- Philza stabbing me to death with a sword

- A large explosion

-(Y/N) crying for me, I don’t like when she’s sad

- The taste of salt

- Air in my lungs

- Winning the election

- A ravine

- Techno's armory

- Books

- Tunnels

- Arrows

- ./..

-

- I don't know

The ghost’s head snapped up to attention, up until a few months ago he was lost in a void of darkness. Pieces were coming back together for him, he was once Wilbur Soot the president of the country he fought and died for, but now he didn’t have a purpose. He wanted to find Fundy, Tommy and Phil let them know he was here and alright, well alright for a ghost. But most importantly he wanted to find (Y/N), her cries wouldn’t leave his head. It was bad, a bad, bad memory, he’d taken to holding pieces of blue to make him feel better, but even that didn’t help his mood.

Eventually, Wilbur had found Fundy, who wasn’t that thrilled to see him, much to his disappointment. When he found Tommy he was slightly more thrilled and Phil seemed to be relieved yet mournful, Wilbur didn’t understand why, he did a good thing. However he had yet to find her, Phil seemed to be the only one who knew but he was giving him nothing. He didn’t know why was it because you didn’t want to see him? The thought made him want to cover himself in blue and beg for forgiveness. He managed to find a brand new buddy in his mourning, a blue sheep he had dubbed Friend. You would love her, (Y/N) adored sheep she would love Friend, she could be a forgiveness gift. Yet, nobody would tell the ghost where you were no matter how much he begged and pleaded, he watched as his once-prosperous country got rebuilt. Tubbo was doing a fantastic job as president, everyone seemed happy and Ghostbur accepted that fact.

A few days ago, Ghostbur sensed something was wrong. Phil was acting weirdly distant and even though Tubbo was trying to dodge his questions, he couldn’t fathom what was going on, until he saw you. You had come in wearing Alivebur’s old jacket and Ghostbur immediately froze, your hair was slightly messy and you looked tired. You were still you, same gorgeous, beautiful you, if his heart was still beating it would’ve skipped a beat. The only difference he could find was that your eyes looked deader than his own, and he was a ghost, it made him ache terribly. He wanted to float towards you, to welcome you with open arms but for some reason, he hesitated. He watched as Phil made his way over to you, he wrapped you in a hug and you hugged him back, the two made some small talk before Phil rubbed the back of his neck. Your brow furrowed and he watched you blink in surprise, you looked over Phil’s shoulder and right through Wilbur. The ghost would’ve flushed if he had blood, instead he settled on fiddling with the cuffs of his sweater before holding up a hand in a wave. You stumbled back away from him looking over at Phil who gave a little nod, Wilbur watched you shake your head and his heart sunk. His father reached out to you and your face scrunched up, you were hissing at him, clearly pissed off. Phil whacked you on the back of his head and you glared at the older man, Wilbur felt a small nudge on his arm, it was Friend. He took a shaky breath and ran his fingers through her wool, at least she had his back, when he looked up again you were marching over to him.

God, you were hot when you were mad.

“(Y/n)! Darling! It’s good to see you-”

“You son of a bitch!” You spat at him, eyes suddenly blazing with life and fire, Ghostbur felt himself falter and shrink into himself. “You think you can just come back here after what you did to us! How you treated us, how you treated me!” Ghostbur’s face fell, he didn’t remember hurting you, he refused to remember that memory, but the way he clutched his blue said enough. “I loved you! I wanted to marry you!” You choked out suddenly deflating as tears began to well in your eyes, you cursed and covered your face with your sleeve. “I cannot believe I’m crying right now.”

“You need some blue?” Wilbur said in a soft, tender voice different than you last remembered. You looked out over your sleeve finally taking in his ghostly appearance, he was wearing his big, round glasses, eyes a soft grey. Blue seemed to be pooling in the edges almost like tears, he had a shaky smile on his features, the yellow sweater he wore was one you’ve never seen before, a large red gash sat on his chest. He watched you swallow thickly and take a step back from him, “I don’t remember what happened to make you hate me so dear.” His voice quivered and he heard you whimper, “But I am so sorry...you can call me Ghostbur, I want to be different from Alivebur. Though his love for you still lives in me.”

Ghostbur watched you let out a heart-wrenching sob as you fell to your knees in front of him. You were clutching the L’manburg pin on your lapel, knuckles white, hands shaking in petrification. He floated beside you and wrapped you up in his arms, the hug wasn’t unwelcome but it was cold, Wilbur knew you’d feel no warmth from it but he hoped it’d bring you some form of comfort.

“I missed you. So much,” You admitted with a sniff, and Ghostbur couldn’t help but smile sadly.

“I missed you too,” He ran a hand through your hair and you leaned into the apparition's ghostly touch. Ghostbur glanced up at Phil who had a tense smile on his face as he nodded slightly at the ghost, it read don’t hurt her again, and Wilbur nodded. “Where have you been? I’ve been looking all over for you, you need to meet Friend!” His eyes lit up a little as he looked around for his blue sheep, “You’ll love her!”

“I’ve been living with Fundy,” You answered his question and his brows furrowed, but Fundy had told him he had no idea where you lived. “We’ve been taking care of one another, just like I promised you we would,” You responded flatly, your voice had a flat affect and Wilbur shuffled uncomfortably in the air.

Where was your spark? Your lust for life and the good things? Was this his fault?

No. No, it couldn’t have been, he refused to accept that outcome.

Alivebur loved you just as much as Ghostbur did, he felt that love so deep in his being it was almost suffocating. So, he’d never hurt you, you don’t hurt the people you love and that’s a fact. So why were you so sad?

“That’s weird. Fundy said he couldn’t find you!” Ghostbur huffed, shaking his head at his son's actions, “My silly, little champion.”

“Ghostbur don’t call him that, he doesn’t like it.” You stated gruffly crossing your arms and his frown only deepened,

“What do you mean he doesn’t like it? Of course, he likes it, he loves it!”

“No Wil he doesn’t. Stop it.” You hissed and he flinched, your face fell a little and you turned away from him. You shoved your hands in the pockets of the jacket, “I need a smoke.” You muttered and his jaw dropped,

“That’s bad for you! You know that!”

“So what? It makes me fucking feel better. You’re not my Wilbur. Stop pretending you give a shit about me.”

“I do care! I love you!” He argued desperately, “I know I’m not him. I can never be him but that doesn’t mean I love you any less. His love transferred to me, please...give me a chance.” You looked at him up and down and he’s never felt more terrified in his entire existence, he needed your hope, he could fix you.

“You don’t understand how much he hurt me.” You whispered completely vulnerable, “he went crazy, blew up a nation, and left me alone.”

He. Meaning Alivebur, Ghostbur was glad he was distinguishing the difference between the both of them. He didn’t remember doing that to you, after all, Ghostbur didn’t do that to you.

“I’ll never leave you alone. I can promise you that, with my whole heart I swear it.” He took your hands within his own, he knew you could barely feel his touch. You closed your eyes for a minute before reopening them,

“I’ll give you one chance. One. So help me god, if you ruin that chance I will never speak to you again. That’s a promise.”

Ghostbur swallowed thickly, nerves prickling at his entire being, “I won’t waste that chance, my dear.” You gave a stern nod and rubbed the back of your neck with a tired sigh,

“So...Friend?”

Ghostbur’s entire demeanor changed as he introduced you to the blue sheep that had taken a rather strong liking to him. The sheep nuzzled at your chest sniffing at your clothing choice, you hesitated a little before running your fingers through her wool.

“She’s very soft.”

“I know right!” he chimed wrapping his arms tight around his sheepy buddy, he buried his face in her wool. Ghostbur saw a weary smile spread across your face which made him smile back at you in return.

Maybe this could still work out for the both of you.

Months went by and you had set up residence outside of New L’manburg, everyone understood why you couldn’t make a permanent home out of the new country after everything that occurred there. In between watching over an exiled Tommy, Ghostbur would come by and visit you, even though you hated to admit it the ghost of your former lover had won you over. He was just so innocent so unlike the man who blew up his own country, so much like the goofball you had originally fallen in love with, you were enraptured. When New L’manburg blew up you weren’t surprised, there was a dull ache in your heart when you heard the news from a sobbing Ghostbur but you couldn’t feel sympathy. What you did feel sympathy about though was Phil’s uncaring attitude towards Friend, it was the first time you heard Ghostbur get legitimately angry.

It scared you more than you wanted to admit.

Even so, you confronted your former lover; he didn’t like sadness and tried to push the feeling away. You tried to comfort him the best way you could but he insisted he was fine opting to take his blue and forget his sadness. That was another thing, his quote on quote blue, it never did sit right with you. Hurt, sadness, and pain are hard emotions to face but they create character and depth and ultimately shouldn’t just be forgotten so easily, after all, how will you ever learn from your mistakes if you don’t experience sadness. Ghostbur didn’t want to hear your reasoning and still took towards using the blue, you eventually gave up trying to convince him otherwise.

You were sitting outside on your porch, rocking on your porch swing a cup of cocoa in your hand. Ghostbur was sitting beside you, head on your shoulder humming a soft tune to himself,

“Darling?”

“Hm?”

“Can I kiss you?”

Ghostbur had asked so innocently it made your heart leap into your throat. Thoughts of Wilbur and his betrayal flashed across your mind, you wanted to scream and say no. That you’ll never let someone like that hurt you again, you were too strong, you opened your mouth but the hope in Ghostbur’s eyes made you close your mouth. This wasn’t the Wilbur you knew, this was Ghostbur, sure he was the ghost of Wilbur but they were so different. Ghostbur made you happy, he made you remember what it was like to be a good person, made you remember what it was like when you first met Wilbur. He made you smile and laugh, and he genuinely adored and cared for your happiness. You found yourself uttering a soft okay before your brain could comprehend your decision, the smile that lit up across Ghostbur’s face was illuminating. He floated over to you and cupped your cheeks, his pale hands were freezing, but it felt good against your scalding hot cheeks. Ghostbur’s eyes softened as he stroked your cheeks with his thumbs, he leaned forward and captured your lips in a soft kiss, the kiss was cold but not unpleasant. You felt him melt against you, and press desperately on to your lips, you couldn’t help but let out a little giggle you felt him pull away. He had the cutest pout on his pale lips,

“Don’t giggle at my kisses!” Ghostbur sounded so offended, you only laughed harder. “Stopppppppp,” he whined leaning against you dramatically.

“I’m sorry Ghostbur.” You covered your mouth with your hand, “You’re just too cute.”

You watched him freeze at your genuine compliment, a smile broke across his features,

“No, you’re cute!” Ghostbur cooed floating around you and wrapping his arms tight around your waist. You leaned into his touch with bright red cheeks,

“You’re a goofball,” You whispered softly, he nuzzled his face into your hair,

“I love you.” You froze in his arms and tensed up, reality crashing back onto all at once. Did you really kiss your dead lover's ghost? The lover who was a fucking asshole to you and blew up an entire country.

Not a girl boss moment.

“You don’t have to say it back,” Ghostbur was quick to add, “I know how hard this is for you. There’s no pressure with me my dear, I just want you to know how I feel.” He pressed the sweetest of kisses to the side of your head. Tears gathered in the corner of your eyes, not out of sadness, out of shock. You couldn’t believe Ghostbur was once Wilbur, the same man you yelled and screamed at you before his death, Ghostbur was wonderful. Ghostbur was kind and sweet, gentle and tender, one day you’d be ready to say you love him, just not yet, not when everything is so fresh.

“Thank you Ghostbur. You don’t know how much that means to me.”

“Anything for you my dear.”

Months turned into years and you had officially fallen in love with your clingy ghost and his blue sheep. You knew he loved you to absolute bits, there were many occasions where Phil and Technoblade came up to you and begged you to get Ghostbur to stop gushing about you. You only turned red and smiled fondly, they scoffed but ruffled your hair, overall both were happy to see you smiling again. You hadn’t kept up with the dramas of the SMP, all your information was from Ghostbur, which happened to be not all that reliable.

You loved him but he was so naive, Tommy and Tubbo had defeated Dream, taken two of his cannon lives, and locked him in Sam’s prison. When Ghostbur told you a smile overtook your features, finally the bastard was getting what he deserved.

Isolation.

Tommy was growing closer with Ghostbur again too, which you couldn’t help but be happy about, he too deserved to heal from the trauma Wilbur had inflicted. You trusted Tommy, even when everyone else didn’t you tried to have his back and showed you he cared in his own weird way. Which mostly meant not stealing your shit, which you weren’t complaining about, today, however, he seemed tense. You both were walking the Prime Path on your way back to your abode, Tommy was loud and rambling, but they were different from his usual ramblings.

“Tommy?”

“What is it, women? I’m in the middle of my heroic story!”

“Are you alright?” You glanced at him out of the corner of your eyes and saw him go rigid. He cleared his throat shaking away his nerves,

“Fuck you talking about? Of course, I’m okay bitch. Don’t interrupt me again!” He scoffed nose high in the air, you narrowed your eyes and he shrunk under your gaze. “I just…” He rubbed the back of his neck, you thought about his resurrection and assumed it had something to do with that, your gaze drifted to the white streaks littering his hair.

“Hey...it’s okay. Just know I’m here for you,” You assured with a smile. You reached up to squeeze his shoulder, he looked shocked at the affectionate gesture,

“Obviously I know that! Don’t assume things bitch!” Tommy shouted shaking off your hand, you shook your head with a smile and let Tommy continue his story. If the young boy wanted to tell you, he would on his own terms. That night Ghostbur had come home absolutely shaking with excitement,

“Tommy, Tubbo, and Ranboo said we’re going on an adventure tonight!” Ghostbur was absolutely glowing, you couldn’t help but smile faintly at his antics.

“Don’t have too much fun.” You chastised teasingly, ghostbur giggled in delight as you pressed a kiss to his cold skin. “Stay safe, don’t let them bully you too much.”

“They don’t bully me,” he huffed but he leaned in for another kiss. Ghostbur had discovered he loved your kisses, even though they were probably cold to you all he felt was warmth. If he was a hybrid like his son his tail would be wagging, and if he was alive he’d be bright red. “I love you (y/n), of course, I’ll stay safe. I promised you I’d never leave you remember?”

You flushed and nodded, “I remember. I’ll see you when you get home.”

“Until then my dear!” He took your hand within his own and kissed the tops of your knuckles. You flushed pink and he sent you a cheeky grin,

“Get out of here loverboy! Don’t keep the children waiting!” You shouted as he floated out the door with a giant wave,

“I’ll be sending you kisses!”

“Ghostbur oh my god, go already!” You giggled with a fond roll of your eyes, he laughed loudly and floated out the door.

You should’ve told him you loved him. It’s okay, there would always be tomorrow.

You were getting ready for bed when Tubbo called you over the walkie-talkie, he was frantically apologizing and pleading for you to come to the crater that was L’manburg. Tommy then stole the walkie talking and started shouting about Ghostbur and your heart sink into your chest. He didn’t make a whole lot of sense but you put on a coat over your pajamas and ran in the direction of the once-prosperous nation. When you got there Tubbo and Tommy were a mess, Ranboo was trying to calm them down and Friend looked uncomfortable.

Where was Ghostbur?

You opened your mouth to call out to the boys when a pair of arms snuck around your waist. They were warm and real, pale hands caressed your abdomen,

“Hi, darling. Did you miss me?” Warm lips handed on your neck, “I missed you.”

Wilbur was back.

~~~ @blossom-702 @mayempress @thatguythatsshy

#c!wilbur x reader #c!wilbur x you #dreamsmp x reader #mcyt x reader #mcyt x you #dreamsmp x you #minecraft x reader #minecraft x you #fanfiction #minecraft fanfiction #fanfic #wilbur soot x reader #wilbur soot x you #wilbur soot x y/n #part iii #first lady of the court #angst #fluff #dreamsmp fluff #romance

[shroudcore]

Speak now, or forever hold your peace. (Finale)

Summary: The ghosts may have left, but the wedding they officiated is not something to be easily forgotten. Will unsaid feelings remain hidden? Idia thinks so, after seeing you with your admirers. 

Idia x GN!reader. Reader is MC, or takes the role of MC in this story.

(Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3) (Part 4)

Warnings: none

After that 3-star difficulty sidequest, it was finally time for the ghosts to leave. They were filing out through a shimmering silver portal to the Land of the Dead, which you joked about jumping into “for the meme”. Idia was quick to discourage it. The joke would’ve been funny at any other time than right now. 

Each ghost made sure to give the newlyweds their congratulations. Each congratulation made Idia want to take off into the night, never to be seen again. It was beyond embarrassing. Unbearable. Way past his limit of social interaction capability. Things were getting way too much to handle for his now-empty Energy bar. 

While Idia longed for the comfort and isolation of his dorm room, you were the one who thanked the well-wishers and said the goodbyes—from a safe distance, of course. 

“When we return, I want you to meet our baby!” Eliza announced before she stepped into the portal. You and Idia shared a look. As if reading each other’s minds, you checked your schoolmates’ faces for their reactions—which did not disappoint. Different ways of saying “Don’t come back!” filled the hall, in varying degrees of anger and vulgarity. Before she disappeared for good, Eliza huffed and stuck her nose up in the air—an expression that tonight’s failed suitors knew all too well. 

At her departure, the portal shrunk into a mere speck until it completely disappeared. Then came the loudest cheers of the night serving as Victory fanfare. It was all over! But before he went, Idia hoped to say goodbye and take a look at you in your suit one last time. Or maybe even ask you to hang out tomorrow, depending on his current Courage level. 

While he silently rehearsed his thank-yous and good-byes, he wondered if you knew that you were still holding his hand. He decided not to mention it. 

Unfortunately, his brief moment of (weak) celebration was cut short when he noticed that the now-mobile Groom Rejects were approaching. They might as well have red bars floating over their heads to warn him of danger. He froze, contemplating whether to: 

> Bear it and stay with you just until he was prepared to say goodbye (+10 relationship points -20 comfort LV)

> Just run off on his own without saying anything, ignoring your calls. (-10 relationship points +10 comfort LV)

For now, he decided to stick with Option 1. Just a little bit longer. 

“That was amazing!” Deuce exclaimed, rushing over to give you a high-five. You laughed and  met other high-fives, low-fives, fist bumps, and head pats that came your way with that lovely smile of yours. 

Suddenly, Ace rips you away from him. Suddenly, you weren’t holding hands anymore. The loud first-year put his arm around you and Idia couldn’t help but notice how easy and natural it looked. Meanwhile, there he was: someone who needed to rehearse his goodbyes. 

Clearly, there was a huge level difference here and Idia was the one disadvantaged. 

“Our hero!” Ace yelled, inspiring more cheers. The distance between you and Idia grew as your wave of admirers and friends swept you farther and farther away. He was an outsider once again, stuck watching the fun from the sidelines. Their eyes sparkled. Their mouths smiled. Their loud voices laughed and praised you and laughed with you again. 

They loved you. And Idia was no different. 

Everyone’s Friend and the Weird Shut-in. Was there hope?

“Brother, I’m so glad you’re safe!” Ortho’s voice cut through his stream of thoughts. Immediately, he feels the weight on his shoulders lighten. 

He watched as his brother, his beacon of hope, made his way around your fan club until he eventually reached his spot. Ortho wouldn’t care if he looked like a loser, standing there awkwardly at the side all alone. Finally, he was saved. 

My savior! “Ortho! Thank you, thank you…” 

“No injuries… tense muscles… an increase in cortisol production,” Ortho muttered, frowning. “Are you okay?” 

“No…” 

Ortho nods. “We’ll return to the dorm, then. But before that, we should thank the Prefect.”

“Oh… right.” Idia looked over to you, still surrounded by your “fans” like the SSR character you were. You listened to Azul, who prattled on and on about something that was oh-so-interesting that you couldn’t take your eyes off him. And Vil judged your suit’s design, reaching out to fix something near your neck. You cracked up at something Floyd said. You posed and smiled beside Cater as he took a selfie with you. 

His mind raced as it continuously spotted the students on his list and everything they did. What was so interesting about Azul? What was so funny about Floyd? Did you like Vil’s hardworking, confident attitude? Did you think Cater had a way with words? 

He looked away. 

“Ortho, I’m going back to my room,” he said with a heavy heart, admitting Defeat. He was underleveled, had zero energy, and zero SP (social points). He’ll see you… some other time. After his cry-sesh, maybe. 

“Huh? Don’t you want to talk to the Prefect first?” 

“I’ll just… DM them later,” he lied. In truth, all he wanted was to drown himself in a video game while he gorged on candy and tried not to think about you. Ortho’s eyes narrowed, but followed him as he sneakily left the hall anyway. 

You’d understand, right?

Once he and Ortho were out, he looked back at the hall doors, hating himself for being too shy and cowardly to make a move. He imagined charging back into the room, wedging himself in between your friends, grabbing your arm, and pulling you away. Then he’ll kabedon you and—

Who was he kidding? He can’t do that, and you probably wouldn’t like that. 

“It was terrible, brother. Nobody wanted to help!” Ortho said, and Idia thinks he didn’t need to be reminded that nobody liked him. 

“When the Prefect and I reached Diasomnia, we expected them to reject us too…” he mused. “But Malleus Draconia agreed to help us! Can you believe it?”

“Wait… Malleus-shi?” 

Ortho nodded enthusiastically. “Yes… because the Prefect talked to him… and then he cast a charm on them to help us ward off those ghosts! It was really nice of him.”

“I see…” Idia knew that you and Malleus were friends. But to actually help you and him? Maybe your relationship with the Diasomnia dorm leader ran deeper than he thought. Why else would he go through that trouble? 

“The Prefect volunteered without needing to be asked, you know,” said Ortho, who he now noticed was observing him carefully. Idia tried to ignore the way his brother’s eyes lingered on him as they walked (floated in Ortho’s case). 

“...I’m so glad their plan worked!”

Wait, what?

“Volunteered? Their plan?” All this time, he thought you’d been forced to do this by the Headmaster! You did always rant about Crowley promising you different sorts of rewards if you did jobs here and there. But… you got yourself into this mess… all for him? 

Idia looked at the hand you held just moments ago and dared not hope again. Maybe you would have done this for anyone else in his place. Maybe you treated everyone the same, and it just so happened that he was the one kidnapped by a ghost bride. 

Still, he felt bad for not doing as Ortho said earlier. It was too late to turn back, however, as Idia and Ortho finally reached the Hall of Mirrors. 

“Finally… I’m so tired,” said Idia, meaning it in all ways. But as he put one leg forward to enter the door to Ignihyde, he heard someone’s voice, along with the scuffle of shoes against the floor coming closer and closer to where he and Ortho stood. 

“Idia, wait up!”

Oh no. It’s you. Enter now! Enter now!

But no matter what his head told him to do, he remained rooted to his spot. He stood still despite his pounding heart, that elevator-like feeling in his stomach, and the blaring alarms in his head. 

Object of affection at 5m…

Ortho was probably seeing his vitals going haywire and giving him that look again. He turned to look at his brother… only to not find him there. 

Help… oh no…

2m… 

“Hey,” you gasped out, catching your breath. “When I turned around, you were gone…”

Yeah, same. Just like Ortho… 

No one said a word for a while. The silence was only filled by your heavy breathing as it slowly evened. Inwardly facepalming at himself, he decided to take the chance to tell you everything he should’ve said before he left. 

But before he could open his mouth and apologize for leaving, (gods know he had too many things to apologize for after tonight), he was taken into a warm embrace. 

OHMYGODSOHMYGODSOHMYGODSOKAYLET’SCALMDOWN

“I thought I was too late.” you mumbled into his suit. 

At that moment, without anyone else around, nothing else mattered but the safety of your arms. And damn, how good it felt to be embraced. Did anyone else get these hugs from you? Idia didn’t think so. He hesitantly lifted his arms up and hugged back. 

Looking up at the domed castle ceiling, he wondered what he did to deserve something this good. 

It’s okay. I can have this. He allows himself to melt into your arms, head drooping down to rest against your neck. 

“G-good thing you weren’t,” he finally whispered back, freezing as he heard you sob against his chest. Oh no, oh no, what do you do when your love interest is crying? Quick, quick, pull up the archive of romantic scenes from your memory. 

“Hey, hey, I-I’m okay, you see?” he said, patting your back awkwardly. You let go after releasing another sob to wipe your eyes with your sleeve. 

“Sorry I got your suit wet,” you said softly, turning your face away. “I’m really, really sorry about what happened there too.”

“About what?”

“The whole wedding thing...” You took a quick look at him but immediately dropped your gaze to the ground. 

Idia blushed. “I-It’s okay! D-don’t worry about it… I-” 

Come on, say more! Ugh… I hate myself. 

You pulled at our vest and slipped something out of it—an envelope. “I… wanted to tell you everything through a letter.”

Tell me what?

“But… Eliza came and took you before I could give it to you.” You avoided his eyes as your fingers tightened around the white envelope. Idia’s breath hitched, expecting you to crumple it. But to his relief, your fingers relaxed. Then, as if it took all your courage, you handed it to him with a slightly shaky hand. 

“It's old-fashioned, I know but yeah... just read it!” 

In the hall’s silence, he could hear your breaths quicken once again. 

“Th-That’s all I came here for. Goodbye!” 

Before he knew it, you were running off. Your arm waved frantically from a distance as every step carried you farther, farther away. He lifted his arm to wave back but you never saw it. You were gone and all he had left was the letter. 

His curiosity made him impatient. With fast and purposeful steps, he sprinted on the way to his room. What did he feel? Excitement? Dread? An unpleasant mix of both? His room, feeling farther than usual, was the only safe place he could experience whatever it was.

After a lot of walking and almost slipping over someone’s spilled soda (he cursed the shoes those ghosts made him wear. His very own would never fail him like that), he found himself in front of the doors, which slid open, revealing Ortho already inside. 

“You left me there!” Idia huffed. 

“Couples need alone time, brother,” replied his brother, innocently blinking.

“Wh-wha… we’re not a couple!” 

“Hmm? I could’ve sworn the signs were all there...”

A blushing Idia threw off the silly coat those ghosts made him wear and threw it over his desk chair. He sat on the bed, fingers racing to open the envelope. Ortho watched with great interest as two sheets of paper covered in your handwriting slipped out.  

Unfolding the first page, Idia took a deep breath and began reading:

Hey Player 1!

Sorry I couldn’t make it tonight last night. Maybe you can show me your new manga tomorrow? I know how excited you are about it.  I’m writing this while Grim’s asleep. He’ll never let me hear the end of it otherwise. 

I figured that this would be the best way to communicate my thoughts and feelings. This way, you won’t feel pressured to respond immediately. You can open and read it whenever you’re ready, in the safety of your room. I know it’s old-fashioned. But to me, a handwritten letter feels more personal—like I’m giving you a piece of myself. So here’s that piece of myself. Please, handle it with care. 

Beware. I’m about to get sentimental and mushy and cheesy and everything you cringe at! I hope you read on, anyway. 

First of all, I want you to know how much I admire you. Right from before we were friends, I was impressed by your intelligence and knowledge with technology. I’ve seen nothing like it back home. I always wondered why you hide yourself and those talents away. My curiosity drove me to want to get to know you. I’m glad I did. 

You were closed off. To you, I was just another normie. Do you remember? Your dismissal annoyed me, so I challenged you to a 1v1 match. I thought I was good, but you crushed me. I guess that’s where it started: our friendship… and something else. Soon, I found more and more reasons to admire you. Honestly, I find more with each passing day. 

I should have known, right from when songs started to make me think of you, that I was falling. I started to see you as, well, more than a friend. Your quick mind, your expressive hair, your soothing voice, your precious grin… your voice when you talk about things you love, your love of cats, and your candy, and your cold hands… Okay, I think you get the point.  But if you have time, I could go on forever. 

There’s something different in your eyes when you truly care. You say you’re bad at being sentimental and feel-y, but that’s okay! We express love differently. I see your love pour out in the way you perfect every detail on Ortho’s modifications, anyway. I’m sure he knows how much you love him. 

I want you to know how special you are to me. You’re so amazing, Idia. I wish you knew that. I want you to know that. 

I know it’s hopeless. You’re the young master to a noble house. I’m just… me. A homeless, magicless foreigner with nothing to my name. Nothing to offer but my feelings (and my superb gaming skills of course). I’m not asking nor expecting to be your special someone. But hey, I can be a top-tier teammate. A worthwhile BG opponent. A movie buddy. And most importantly—a friend. 

Our time together has always been a highlight of my difficult stay in NRC. The times we hung out in your room were my refuge from the outside world’s demands. Somewhere I was untouchable and safe from harm. Safe from demeaning remarks. Even if you never get back to this letter and decide you never want to see me again, I will always treasure the matches we played, the movies we watched, the candy we shared, and the memes we laughed over.

That’s all of it, really. Please don’t sleep too late. Watch your sugar intake. Listen to Ortho. Take care of yourself. 

Oh, and enjoy your new manga. 

Your best raid teammate, 

Player 2

Wide amber yellow eyes glistened as they repeatedly flitted over the words. A shaky thumb caressed the smudged ink from where a fallen teardrop marked the paper. Burning different shades at once, fire-hair slowly released itself from the tie it was forced into. Now free, it swathed Idia’s back in warmth like it should.

“Th-This can’t be real!” he sputters as he waved your letter around like he was fanning a bonfire. In a way, he was. 

However, Idia knew his hair wasn’t the only thing that kept him warm. He stared at the letter and it stared back. But no matter how many times he blinked, the words remained the same. You felt the same. 

“What have I done to unlock this route?” Idia clutched the letter to his chest, but noticed he was wrinkling it. “Nooo!” He quickly smoothed it over again. 

“They… they like-like me!” Saying it out loud made it more real. It was a fact! It was true all this time! Thinking of everything you did tonight: rescuing him like a true hero, running after him because you couldn’t keep your feelings secret for much longer… he couldn’t stop himself from swooning. 

“Like-like… did you mean love?”

“L-love?” Idia exclaimed. He suddenly felt dizzy, so he fell back onto his bed and talked to the ceiling. “It’s too early for that word!” 

But he knew the effect which that word had on him didn’t go unnoticed by Ortho. Well, at least he knew now that Idia wasn’t suffering from an illness. Can love be considered an illness? Idia recalls a documentary that said it was. Back then, he ate that up. Love made people do crazy things, after all. 

But ‘illness’ wasn’t an apt word to describe this dizzying happiness surging through him, was it? It was way too wonderful for a word like that.

“I’m so glad the Prefect finally confessed!” Ortho bounced happily, reflecting his brother’s joy. “I knew they would do it soon!” 

Mouth hanging open, Idia looked at his brother. “Wait… you knew?”

“I’ve known for a while,” Ortho giggled. “Vitals can’t keep secrets!” 

***

Contrary to plan, Idia didn’t touch his video games, nor gorge on candy, nor cry himself to sleep. Instead, he replayed the night’s events in his head over and over like a song he couldn’t get enough of. It had been two hours and thirty-five minutes since he read your letter. Two hours and thirty-five minutes since his world was turned upside down. In his reflection on the dark screen of his off tablet, he almost looked different. He saw someone who was admired. Wanted. Loved. 

Was that what you saw whenever you looked at him?

Ortho told him what the next move was: asking you out. He was scared. You might have changed his view of himself a bit, but that didn’t mean he was suddenly ready to go the distance and conquer the world, or whatever those overenthusiastic extroverts say. The night was still too much, and maybe he still needed those three weeks of being a complete hermit. 

Okay. Maybe with your help, I'll get there little by little. 

Perhaps you could watch a movie in his room... Would you be okay with that? You always hung out with him in there. But what if you wanted to do something outside? Eh, maybe it all didn’t matter, as long as you were together. 

When he put on his headphones, he knew which song to choose right away. There was one forgotten song in his music library that he couldn’t bring himself to delete. A love song. It wasn’t a bad one, because Idia would never keep a bad song in his music library. It’s just that the lyrics  were too happy—its singer so blissfully in love that it amplified the loneliness that had always been there.

Now playing: “Immortal Flowers” — SERPINA

This time, it’ll be different. Tonight, he puts it on repeat. He listens to it with a head for once clear of uncertainties. Instead, he thinks of fluffy otome scenarios. 

That date idea would have to wait. For now, he’ll imagine and dream of you, with your warm smile and open arms—skin basking in the glow of blue fire light. 

THE END. 

~

(Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3) (Part 4)

There you have it! Thank you for reading. I had fun writing this 4-part series. Would love to hear some feedback! 

Btw, the title of the song Idia listens to at the end comes from “Conversations with Persephone” by Nikita Gill. “What Hades gave me was a crown made for the immortal flowers in my bones.” 

#twst x reader #idia x reader #idia shroud x reader #idia shroud #twisted wonderland x reader #twst fic #my work

[warmau]

☆ [nostalgic] summer romance!au jaehyun exactly on time for the valentine boy! ........well....... find others here: johnny | haechan | taeil | taeyong | mark | jaemin | yangyang | yuta | sicheng | chenle | kun | yukhei | doyoung

how you end up here, you don’t know, but you blame johnny suh because when things get weird it’s usually his fault anyway

johnny’s smile is a thousand and one watts - he reaches out to pass you the beat up guitar case and again, you don’t even take it by choice, it’s nudged into your hands before you can really even say a word

“im not joining your band.”

“it’s not mine - it’s ours.”

jungwoo twirls a drum stick between his fingers and grins from his spot on the garage couch

“no johnny - we all know it’s yours.”

your lips thin and the only reason you don’t fling the case to the floor is because you actually like the guitar that’s inside. 

granted you haven’t seen it since middle school and it probably still has that horrible sticker on the back of it that you remember picking at until all the little pieces you got off were uncomfortably stuck under your nails.

“guys - it’s summer. we have nothing better to do.”

“says you, i got an engineering internship at samsung.” 

jungwoo chirps again and you try not to roll your eyes

we all know about the damn samsung internship dude.

“yeah - and i have to work at the family bookstore.”

mark lee walks in, holding as many redbulls as he can fit between his elbows, they spill out and onto the space beside jungwoo

you listen to mark open one and johnny groan

“ok you all have something to do, but we-” he motions behind him at you “don’t have anything to save us from the boredom that is about to take up two months of our youthful lives!”

“hey-”

you cut in and all three sets of eyes focus on you

“i have something i want to do this summer.”

johnny’s long figure straightens in anticipation while jungwoo cocks an eyebrow and mark gives you an encouraging smile

“im not going to tell you what it is, but it’s definitely not starting a band with you guys.”

you lean the guitar case against a nearby wall and add a half-hearted shrug

“sorry.”

the walk from johnny’s house to yours isn’t long, it takes about fifteen minutes if you’re really going slow. 

plus you’ve done it so many times, you basically set your body to autopilot.

you think about it - the thing you want to do this summer before you go away for university and home becomes a new place and a memory at the same time.

you’re not known for being sentimental, johnny has even gone so far as to label you as a bit ‘apathetic’ . but still you know this is your last chance to really enjoy the place you grew up in.

you turn the corner at the street that leads down to where you live and in the hot evening air you hear something

it’s the sound of a bike, the pedaling is light but the frame must be old because it creaks a little when it slows down slightly to maneuver to the left and pass you.

you look up and see a boy

brown hair still wet from the pool or a shower maybe, dimples at the corners of his smile, the two sizes too big white shirt fluttering behind him in the breeze

for what seems like longer than a second - you lock eyes - his match the color of autumn leaves and teddy bear fur 

and for some weird reason can’t stop thinking about them even well after you get back home

is he new in town? i’ve never seen him before?

finally managing to shake off the curiosity, you fish the shoebox you’ve been keeping under your bed out and open it.

inside there’s only three things so far: 

a copy of your graduation photo, a copy of johnny’s graduation photo, and the prom invite ticket that has jungwoo’s chicken scrawl on the back (he was technically your date, because johnny got proportioned by half the seniors and mark was too nervous to ask if you’d take him)

this is what you were talking about. this is what you want to spend summer doing.

you want to spend it remembering, gathering fragments of your life so far in your hometown with your bestfriends, so that when you move on you have a tangible piece of the memories

the reason you were keeping it a secret though was because.....even you had to admit.......this was a little much 

and you had built yourself a little bit of a hard shell so imagining telling the people you knew that this was your summer plan 

well, you could already hear johnny’s voice saying something like ‘hey, this isn’t a hallmark movie you sap and facetime exists. do you think im not gonna call you at 3 am from across the country like i do now anyway?’ 

you close the box and tap your fingers on the top.

tomorrow, i’ll start visiting all the important places.

your phone pings and it sound echoes through the otherwise empty library. 

a harsh shushing sound comes from the front desk and you quickly answer it, sliding down against one of the bookcases

you’d come here to see if you could find that old series you loved as a kid, the magic treehouse, it’s the books you and johnny fought over when you first met each other years ago

you abandon that though because poor mark sounds like he’s having a panic attack over the phone

“hey, you need to get over here - johnny is holding auditions for a guitarist since you said you didn’t want to do the band”

“ok, so what? it’s just auditions?”

mark’s pleading gets louder, “it’s auditions with JOHNNY - he thinks this is eurovision or something i don’t know please i can’t reign him in and jungwoo’s at his internship - i am dying here!”

you sigh, making it long so mark knows how annoyed you are

“put him on.”

mark’s voice drowns and johnny takes the phone from him

“what did i say with conspiring with them? we are shunning them for quitting on the band! what do you mean you had no other options? what do you mean my egomania is coming out? - anyway hey whats up?”

“stop torturing mark and all the poor kids that showed up to audition.”

“first of all, im not torturing anyone. that would be illegal and distasteful, im just giving my constructive criticism. second of all, if you want to give orders like that then let’s make this a fare trade off. come over and help me judge - i mean hold the auditions and then i will cease my so called ‘torturing’ ala my ‘criticizing’.”

you huff - fine, it’s one day out of the whole summer.

“ok. but you better have snacks.”

“do you think i wouldn’t provide refreshments? what kind of monster do you think i am?”

there’s more people than you expect showing up to audition for this band. half of them are just there to sweet talk johnny or mark,  but the others are all just. bad. 

you never knew how bad someone butcher playing an instrument, let alone a guitar, but you’ve had that eye opening experience today

“how many people left?”

you mutter, face first into your palms and looking up with happiness when mark says only one!

“hey, im jung jaehyun.”

you turn and see the boy from the bike, the one with the softest eyes you’ve ever seen, standing in the entry to johnny’s garage

he’s carrying his own guitar case - black leather and well worn but loved

“well jaehyun dude, i hope you can at least play the damn thing because i feel like no one in this town can!”

johnny groans and you straighten up a little as jaehyun comes closer

he sets himself up and you feel something inside your stomach turn when he bends down and you see a bit of the tanned skin of his back

“im not amazing, but i can play some of the classics.”

“wonderwall?” mark asks and johnny snips at him as you try to think of something to say, but suddenly....your brain is fuzzy

“play anything!” 

so jaehyun does, he plays, and he even sings and the fuzziness in your brain turns to white noise and the little drop in your stomach is a whole bundle of butterflies

you barely realize the johnny is already befriending jaehyun and mark is staring at him with those big, impressed eyes

when you get up and jaehyun smiles at you

“so what do you play?”

johnny throws an arm around your shoulder older brother style and rolls his eyes before you get a word in

“you’re actually taking their spot because they’re too busy to be in the band.”

something seems to cast a sad shadow over jaehyun’s features - “oh, you’re not going to play with us?”

words float through your head, none of which you can grasp onto, so you just shake it instead and let johnny ramble on about your so called betrayal

you look at your phone and of course it’s nearing ten and there’s no way you can go to any of the other places on your list so you motion to mark that you’re going to head home

“oh - i have to go too.”

jaehyun slings his guitar case over his shoulder, “but ill come by tomorrow for practice?”

johnny shoots him a big grin and then haggles all the social media jaehyun has out of him

you don’t know why you just don’t start walking - but somehow you end up leaving with jaehyun, making that left turn where you first passed each other

“do you live on this street?”

you jump a little as you nod, “yeah - i think i actually saw you yesterday. you were on your bike so you probably didn’t notice me.”

there’s a polite distance between you two, but jaehyun is smiling when he answers

“oh no, i definitely noticed you.”

you end up thinking about those words the same way you couldn’t stop thinking about his eyes 

except this time, instead of it lasting a day, the thought lasts nearly two and a half weeks

it seems jaehyun is doing a good job fitting in with your friends, considering you don’t get anymore calls from mark 

and you actually start to make progress on your summer project

you manage to get some ticket stubs from old movies, an old science project you did that’s still hanging on the walls of the highschool (open for summer classes), and pressed flowers from ontop of a hill where you almost break your elbow back when you were a freshman

you’re plunging yourself into your past, but weirdly enough every now and then you’ll remember that 

oh no, i definitely noticed you

the six little words make you feel giddier than whatever memento you’re seeking out to tuck into your shoebox

you try to tell yourself it’s just because jaehyun is new - he’s new and the memory of him isn’t old enough to try and find anything to represent him by 

and he kind of represents everything you’re nervous about - new places, new people, new friendships ...... the prospect of a new love

love? 

you look up at the sky as you swing back and forth on the playground you’ve come to collect something from for your memory box 

that’s ridiculous. i’ve had one conversation with him!

you swing your legs back and forth, slowing down and you think twice about jumping off when suddenly you feels someone gently push your back

the swing goes a little higher and you turn your head in surprise to see

“j-jaehyun?”

he smiles and his dimples greet you before he does

“i saw you on my way back from johnny’s.”

he gives you another soft push and you hear that fuzzy noise that always turns the gears in your brain when you try to say something around him

“is - is johnny being nice?”

is all you can muster and jaehyun laughs, the sound melodic but low, just the way the baritone of his voice is when he sang

“very nice, but he is a lot to handle sometimes.”

you kick your legs down and dig your heels into the grass a little, jaehyun grabs the two chains of the swings to help you stop it

when you turn you notice his bike is laying a couple of feet away and so is his guitar

“what about the band stuff?”

“johnny is trying to write songs and stuff, but actually mark is the one that i think has the talent for it.”

you can’t help but feel the corner of your mouth lift up a little, he already knows the two of them pretty well.

“what about you - do you write songs or music?”

jaehyun lifts his bike back up and you take the guitar case to help him

before you know it - you and him are walking side by side again 

“a little, but it’s more about playing the guitar for me. that’s the part that makes me happy.”

you play with your fingers behind your back, old nervous habits rising to the surface

“by the way - why did you not want to be part of the band? johnny said you were busy with something but you didn’t say what.”

you stop 

i should lie, make something up.

jaehyun stops too and the sounds of the bike wheels and footsteps float off into the air

but for some reason, i don’t want to lie. not to him.

“im......leaving after the summer, going to school in another place. so im spending my summer kind of.....im kind of cataloging this place. this town. i’m doing the whole put your memories in a shoebox thing which is so-”

“awesome! i think it’s awesome that you want a part of your home with you, sometimes people are way too excited to get away from their roots.”

you look at jaehyun, who returns the look with a comforting warmth you’ve never experienced before.

it’s a different comfort than the one you get from your friends or your family, it makes your heart beat flutter - slow for a second, then so fast you think your body can’t keep up

he starts walking again and you do too

the silence isn’t weird. it’s a conversation in it’s own way between your two bodies.

when you get to your house - you look at jaehyun again and you have two thoughts

one is that you should kiss him. because he looks so.....kissable.

the second, the one you ultimately choose, is to widen your eyes and go:

“promise you won’t tell the others about it though, they would not let me live it down.”

jaehyun laughs and hooks his pinkie with yours - his skin soft under the setting sun - “i promise.”

and after being caught up in thinking about jaehyun’s eyes, or the way he speaks, you find yourself in the same repeating cycle again

this time. it’s your regret. 

you should have chose option one, because it’s looking like another opportunity to kiss jung jaehyun is not coming any time soon.

and like the two times before, you throw yourself into your summer project to try and not think about it 

(although you do, multiple times throughout the day, at one point blushing at the image of what could have happened if you DID kiss him and then getting snapped at by the angry man at the local deli)

another couple of weeks pass and you swing by johnny’s because it’s a location on your summer memory list and also....

you are curious about how the band is going ...

and you kind of a little want to see jaehyun again......

you arrive and hear jungwoo’s voice to your surprise, followed by the sound of drums and johnny’s sharp “stop, stop, STOP!”

“jungwoo, what is going on - did working at samsung make you into a robot who can only produce code and not drum to save his life?”

“what do you know about drumming johnny? or coding? or anything in general?”

“hey watch the attitude, you’re embarrassing me in front of jaehyun.”

jungwoo snorts and you try to hide your own laugh but everyone turns to you just in time for you to hiccup it back

“ah - the traitor is here!” 

johnny sings and jaehyun gives him a soft elbow to the ribs

“what’s up?” 

mark smiles from his place at the keyboard and you cross your arms

“nothing, hows it going - book any shows? write an album yet?”

“actually, we did book a gig for your information”

johnny waltz his way from the microphone and to a stack of flyers from his couch

he hands you one and this time you do burst out into laughter

the flyer, pink and way over the top, is an invitation to johnny’s end of the summer party

well it’s actually his going away party his parents have planned for him, since he’s also leaving for school

“johnny - you didn’t book a gig. you’re playing your own party.”

“the parents are shelling out twenty dollars to each of us so money makes it a gig.”

you look at jaehyun who secretly rolls his eyes

“sure, sure. can i keep one of these?” 

you fold the flyer and slip it into your pocket, this will make a good addition to the shoebox

“oh are you going to put it in-”

jaehyun starts and you rush over, hand flying over his mouth as the three other people in the garage stare

“going to put it in......the trash. yes. going to throw it right out because really johnny did you use paint-”

johnny flips you off in the kindest, best friend way possible

you let go of jaehyun and throw him a look that he mouths an apology too

somehow, instead of leaving, you end up staying and listening to them practice

you consider it a break from your project and the day is filled with what you’d expect from all of them, laughter and jokes and banter that is only ok between the closest of people

when they finally finish practice and jungwoo and mark accept a gracious ride home from mr. suh 

you say you’ll be off too and jaehyun trots up right behind you, “ill walk with you.”

this time, you hear less of the fuzz in your head and can actually keep up a decent conversation without staring at jaehyun’s lips

you feel closer because of the time you spent today and you almost walk past your house until jaehyun points to the porch

“oh by the way. can i see what you have in the shoebox?”

you look over your shoulder at him, “like right now?”

he gives a casual shrug

“is that ok?”

and now jung jaehyun is standing in your room. well he’s standing in it and then he’s sitting on your bed and rummaging through some of the most personal memories you have.

his long fingers pulling out ticket stubs or notes you passed in class

he chuckles at the graduation photo of johnny and dangles yours over your head when he refuses to give it back 

you tackle him for it and he falls down against your sheets and you make the worst (or arguably best) mistake of your life

when you straddle his hips and rich out to grab it

only to look down and see him splayed open like the pages of a beautiful book

and you remember your regret

it makes your head spin, but you watch in slow motion as the photo falls from between his fingers and you lean down to catch it, but jaehyun presses up and catches your mouth with his.

it’s sloppy, awkward - but only for the first few seconds - until you can both adjust yourselves from your position and do it right and then it is 

astonishing

because it feels like you’re kissing someone you’ve been kissing for years. decades. millennia's. eons. 

it feels like you and jaehyun have been doing this since the big bang.

since humans first came to exist. 

since, gosh you don’t know, since pangea freaking broke apart.

you make out for so long that you lose track of time and it gets late to the point where the darkness of the summer almost makes you ask him to stay over

but jaehyun is just so mannerly that he slips out the back door of your house with a final kiss and a promise to call

which he follows up on earlier than you expect, showing up on your doorstep to take you out for breakfast

only to end up with you two back in your room an hour later, kissing again, and again, and with more hands and less of his shirt or yours.

the only thing that unglues you from him is his phone ringing for what must be the tenth time

“it’s johnny”

you breath against jaehyun’s neck finally

“how do you know?”

“only he calls ten times in a row.”

and like your summer project, you don’t tell your friends about what’s going on between you two

jaehyun says it’s kind of hard to hide the obvious evidence on his body - but you tell him to say it was your other neighbor, or someone from another town

jaehyun agrees just because you pull the doe eye trick on him and he really is learning he can’t say no to that or to you in most situations

but everytime before and after band practice - he’s with you

sometimes he joins you on your little visits to the places still on your lists

when you tell him the sentimental value behind them, you get a little fidgety because being vulnerable is hard 

but jaehyun listens and he says that each memory of yours he gets to watch you relive, helps him learn something about you

you don’t say it out loud - but hearing that makes you want to cry and kiss him and cry again 

an other times, you two don’t do anything heartwarming or special, you just roll around with him, tangled up in one until he has to go

with each day, summer comes closer to 

and end but you fall deeper into each other at a pace that might be alarming if it was any other two humans but the both you

and before you know it - it’s the day of johnny’s end of summer slash going away party 

jaehyun is supposed to be there from like nine in the morning but he stops at your place before he bikes over

kissing your forehead he drops something in your palm

you open it to see his guitar pick 

“won’t you need this for when you play?”

“i’m using my backup. i just thought you might want to put that one in your shoebox........since it could remind you of me......”

he flushes and you bite back your lip, part of you is happy because he’s just so cute it isn’t fair but the other is coming to the daunting idea that 

soon enough - im leaving too, will jaehyun just be another memory to me?

instead of dwelling on it, you peck him again and ask, 

“ill see you at the party?”

the party is most definitely a johnny suh party

the food is amazing, everyone on the planet is invited, and johnny is wearing something so bright it beats out the sun

when you arrive, his mother spends half an hour asking you to take care of him when he finally leaves and you don’t remind her that you’re going to two different places

you don’t see jaehyun or mark or jungwoo around - you assume they’re practicing somewhere for the performance while johnny is juggling both front lead singer and host

the party is fun - it really is - but the words “going away” somehow still make you a little sick

you’re about to escape to somewhere a little quieter, when you hear someone tap the mic on the makeshift stage in johnny’s backyard

you see him - and the rest of the band - gather on as johnny introduces them and shouts excitedly that this song they’re going to perform, written by keyboardist mark, is all about new beginnings!

jaehyun finds you in the crowd, a secret little smile on his lips before the music starts and to your surprise - and probably everyone elses - they actually do pretty good

the lyrics are so very mark, but johnny brings a flare to the way he sings it

jungwoo seems to have remembered how much he adores drumming again and the way jaehyun looks playing guitar is so enticing that you can’t help but feel a little pride in the fact that you’ve been tasting all of that for most of the summer

the sick feeling in your stomach turns into excitement which turns into just pure enjoyment as you watch your friends and your boyfriend up there having fun

when it’s over and they hop down to mingle back into the rest of the party, you really can’t help yourself and throw your arms around jaehyun

you kiss him - which earns a gasp from mark, a half smirk from jungwoo, and a loud clearing of his throat from johnny

you and jaehyun admit what’s been going on and when johnny just whistles you ask him if he’s not mad

“even if i was mad, you would still keep liking each other right - so what’s the point?” 

you hug johnny, and mark, and jungwoo, and like nothing has changed you all fall back into the swing of it

the comfort of being around each other

when you five are the last people in johnny’s messy background you finally decide to tell them all about your summer project

“i knew you’d all say it was lame so i-”

“hey hey hey - it isn’t lame. it’s not what i expect but i get why you’d want to do it.”

johnny pats your shoulder and you feel jaehyun’s hand on the small of your back

it’s the kind of moment you want to never end. 

really, you just want this summer to never end.

but when it does - when the day comes for the temperature to drop and for you to be on your way to a new place

you feel the sadness come in a big wave

johnny, mark, jungwoo, and jaehyun all come to say goodbye and you hold the shoebox in your hands - now heavy and filled to the brim with all your memories

before you say it though, each of them adds something

jungwoo drops his samsung internship ID into it

mark places the paper he wrote the draft of the lyrics to the song they performed at the party into it

and johnny chucks a burned CD version of it into the mix

finally, turning to jaehyun, you take in a deep breath

“i know the distance will be big so if you want to break up and-”

he kisses you before you can finish your sentence and slips a small box that you don’t open until you’re already in your new dorm

inside is a small bracelet, engraved on the inside are the words

“i definitely noticed you. it was love at first sight”

years later - jaehyun says those words again

as he’s reading his vows 

and you’re feeling the fuzziness, the butterflies, the comforting warmth, everything like a tsunami of all the things that are you and jaehyun

and when johnny shows up to present the rings to you two

they’re in that old shoebox 

two little bands at the bottom of all those memories

at the reception, you lean over and whisper to your now husband

“where did you find that old thing by the way?”

jaehyun nuzzles his lips against the cusp of your ear as you watch jungwoo and mark make fools of themselves on the dance floor 

“under the bed, where you put everything you care about.”

#WELL ! #i really took way too long to write this but just........alot of feelings at once #nct scenarios #nct 127 scenarios #jaehyun scenarios #jaehyun au #nct au #nct 127 au #jaehyun #nct #nostolgic au #jaehyun imagines #nct imagines

[honeypirate]

“What can you expect from a bug user?”

Shino woke in a panic, those words floating around in his head, echoing from his nightmare.

He quietly moved his sleeping bag off himself and pulled his legs up to rest his head between his knees, trying to calm his breathing and heart rate as his sweaty body cools off.

He runs his hands through his hair and sighs. It’s been so many years since that day yet he still has reoccurring nightmares about being weak.

You move from your bedroll and quietly make your way to him, he sensed you from when your feet touched the ground and didn’t flinch when you whispered his name, trying not to wake Tenten from the other side of the still hot coals from the fire, Kiba and Akamaru in the trees keeping watch.

Your arm came around his back as you kneeled beside him, he turns his body towards you and hugs you back as your arms envelop him and you hum softly, hands softly rubbing his back like always as his heart calms down.

During the day, no one would guess that you two were this close. No one would guess that Shino trusts you this much. To everyone else you were just from neighboring clans and close friends who went on missions together.

It started when you had a nightmare one night when you were a kid. You went to your roof to get some air and from there you were able to see across the forest to the top of Shino’s home, where he sat as well. After seeing each other a few nights in a row, he gestures to meet in the middle of the woods that connect your clans lands, and since then you’ve always found each other for relief whenever you could.

“Are you okay?” You whisper into his ear and he nods into you but his hands have your shirt tight in his fists. “Stay?” He asks in a broken voice and you feel your breath hitch

“Are you sure? We’ve never..” he leans back and looks at you, taking a shaky inhale “I’m next for watch, then you’re last after me. Stay.” You feel your cheeks warm and your heart flutter and you nod slowly.

He moves so you can lay down next to him and he pulls you into his arms against his chest as his bugs zip up his bag with you both in it.

You didn’t want to think about what the morning will be like, didn’t want to overthink about it, your brain was screaming to tell him you loved him but you just couldn’t open your mouth and say the words.

You fell asleep quickly against his chest and before you know it he was lightly running his fingers across your forehead, brushing your hair back as he whispers your name.

“Y/n” he whispers and you take a deep inhale as your brain come backs to consciousness “it’s time” he says and your eyes flutter open.

You look up at him in the dark for a few moments with a soft smile before nodding and sitting up

“Okay. Thank you Shino” you whisper back and climb from his bed to go back to your own to slip on shoes and grab your pouch and headband.

Shino watched you get ready and thought about how it would be to have you sleep beside him every night and wake up together. Getting ready for the day together and getting breakfast before you both had to go to work and train your own shinobi. He imagines coming home to you and sleeping by you, being with you always and when you look his way and smile, the light from dying fire lighting your face, he knows that’s what he wants.

The sunrise warmed your face and by the time you jumped from the trees into your camp, the other four were awake. “Good morning” you say with a smile and are met with tired eyes as they wake up. When you meet shino’s look he smiles softly “good morning” he says softly back and your heart feels as happy as you look when your smile softened and you sigh softly holding his gaze for a few more seconds before you started to pack up your own things.

He keeps glancing over at you every few moments as you pack up camp, watching as you meticulously, in the same routine as always, roll up your bed and put your things in your pack. By the time you’re all ready, it’s like no one was ever here to begin with, it always makes you smile to see how well you could disappear without a trace. He loved that smile.

“When we get back,” he says as he catches up to you as you run through the trees “would you like to get dinner with me?”

You look over at him with a little grin “like a date? Or just dinner?” You ask and your grin spreads when the ear you can see turns pink

He clears his throat “a date”

You guessed his feelings matched yours when he asked you to stay, but you didn’t expect him to move so fast. When you really think about it, it makes sense when you finally know how you feel you don’t wanna wait around anymore, especially as shinobi.

“I’d love to” you say and smile “after we debrief, I’m all yours Shino” he nods, cheeks flushing matching his ears as he falls back into place.

The debriefing when by swiftly, the mission a success and your wages given. Afterwards, you head to dinner with Shino and unsurprisingly, much to your relief, it was like it always was. It was easy and light, you felt comfortable with him. Nothing was different.

He brushes the hair from your face and you suck in a sharp inhale, a gasp from his warm touch. You lean into his touch and watch the corners of his mouth twitch into a tiny smile, making your heart race.

Okay so maybe one thing was different.

When you leave the restaurant you have the biggest pleased smile as his fingers lace with yours.

Two different things.

But the difference felt so right, like it was always meant to be like this.

The walk to your home was silent, spent in stolen glances and smiles, like you both knew a secret that no one else did. When you finally arrived outside your door, the exhaustion from your mission was hitting you both. You knew he wanted to go home and shower but there was a selfish part of your heart that didn’t want him to leave.

“Thank you Shino” you say with a smile as you slip your key into the lock but don’t turn in, just let it hang there as you look up at him.

“Do you wanna get breakfast with me in the morning?” You ask and he lets out a breath of relief as he nods

“Please” he says and gives your hand a small squeeze but doesn’t let it go

You reach up and cup his cheek “so I’ll see you in the morning?” You ask and he nods “I wouldn’t miss another date with you” he says and steps closer, dropping your hand to pull you to his chest

You sigh and bury your face into his neck, either the exhaustion or just feeling it’s the right time you don’t know but something compelled you and you didn’t stop the words when they touched your tongue

“it’s always been you Shino” you whisper “it’ll always be you”

He pulls back just enough to press his forehead against yours “it’s always been you for me too” he whispers before his lips gently press into yours.

#shino fanfiction #shino fluff #shino aburame x you #shino aburame x reader #shino aburame #Shino aburame x y/n #shino x you #shino x y/n #shino x reader #naruto fanfiction

[rockingrobin69]

Heat Exhaustion

Almost a reblog, but not quite. 1.1K, less fluff, more pining. LOTS of pining.

Languid movements in the sun had his brain halfway melted. He stared, dazed, at the hand that was previously sheltering bright eyes – not lowering but dripping, bit by bit, onto criminally-bare skin. There was something decidedly wrong about the picture. Malfoy shouldn’t even be here, clad only in a jade-colored bathing suit and popping every eye on the beach out its socket. He should be – somewhere posh, somewhere cold, where his pallor suits the weather and he’s properly covered, Jesus. He made even sweltering look expensive; drops of sweat glimmered on his skin like condensation on a bottle of Dom Perignon. Harry wanted to lick him clean. He was out of his damn mind.

“I think it’s time for a dip,” Malfoy said, even his drawl lazy. Sunlight shimmered on his skin, a dazzling display of long limbs attacking Harry’s eyes as he stretched into a stand. “Coming, Potter?”

As if he could stand watching him walk away. Harry tottered behind because he simply couldn’t help it, head dizzy, hands aching to grab. God, Malfoy’s arse would fit so perfectly in his palm. It’s like it was meant for it. It’s like he was meant for –

Harry stopped the thought right there, before it got too dangerous. He’s been down this path for far too long not to recognize the alarm bells. Malfoy doesn’t feel the same way. Beautiful, charming, devilishly clever Malfoy doesn’t feel the same way. That’s why he slipped away after Harry kissed him – accosted him, more like. And that’s why he’s keeping at arm’s length now. Harry needed to fucking learn that already, it wasn’t funny anymore. It was too hot for his heart to ache this much.

The water was a godsend, cooling the fire to a tolerable sizzle. Harry didn’t wait a second before he submerged, desperately hoping it would help. He’d take whatever assistance he can get. He had no more energy to fight it, and their friends all ditched him here. Alone. With Malfoy. Fucking Malfoy. No, not fucking Malfoy, no matter how much he might like to – a nudge to his shoulder made him raise his head, startled.

“You all right?” Malfoy asked, far too near. “Scared me a little there. Thought you were trying to drown yourself.”

“What? No. Yes. I mean – I’m fine.” Which was a lie, because he wasn’t, he was never less fine in his life. Malfoy looked even better up close, some bloody how. His hair was pulled back, smoothed, similar and very much different to how he used to wear it. Back then he looked like a prat, and now… now he just looked perfect. With his jaw, and that tiny little scar on his temple, and his lips. His lips. And his eyes, fuck, not only reflecting the light but emitting it, Harry would swear on it. Fuck. He was so fucked. He couldn’t stop for one bloody minute.

“Are you sure about that?” Malfoy’s very voice was enough to drive Harry to ruins. How many times had he listened reverently, not even grasping whatever it was Malfoy was trying to explain? Not caring about not grasping it, either, because it meant he could ask him again? So Malfoy would talk again? And maybe get that little exasperated smile too, the crinkle at the corner of his eyes which Harry used to believe meant fondness? “Hey. Harry.”

“Huh?” there was a drop of water at the top of Malfoy’s neck, making its slow and torturous way down his throat, and Harry was a goner.  

“Harry.” Something was happening, a huge shift of tectonic plates, a tsunami starting deep within the ocean – oh, no, it’s just Malfoy’s hands on him, grabbing both his shoulders. Far more terrifying. “Whatever is wrong, you’re going to tell me right now, Potter. I’m not kidding.”

“Nothing’s wrong,” Harry said, which meant everything’s wrong, because you don’t want me the way I want you, and my love for you is no longer only pathetic, but now actually tragic.

“You’d think,” Malfoy’s tone altered to annoyance, and Harry’s heart beat sickeningly fast in his chest, “that after all this time, you’d be better at telling a bloody lie. I thought I was meant to be a good influence on you.”

“You are,” Harry blurted, stunned and a lot panicked to discover Malfoy’s hands still on him. “You so are.”

“Evidently,” Malfoy shook his head. “What is it, then? Still don’t trust me?”

“What?” Harry’s voice softened immediately, the traitor. “Of course I do.”

“Then why won’t you tell me what’s wrong with you?”

“There’s nothing – “

The earth shook again, this time nauseating, because Malfoy’s hands slid off him and he floated a step back. “Come off it, Potter. There’s obviously something. I thought we had put the past behind us, but if you still hate me so much that merely looking at me causes you grief, then – “

“Malfoy,” Harry cut him off, shocked, and then at his hurt look, “Draco. I don’t hate you. Of course I don’t hate you.”

“No?” the dirty bastard had the nerve to look shy, and Harry couldn’t take it anymore.

“Draco – fuck, for such a brilliant bloke, you sure are an idiot sometimes. You know I don’t hate you. You know that for years now.” Draco’s insecurity was the fastest way to break his heart, he’d checked.

“Is it… about the kiss?” Malfoy asked, quiet all of a sudden. He looked away, and then quickly back at Harry like it was punishment. “I can explain. I didn’t mean to – it wasn’t something – I didn’t plan – “

“It’s okay,” Harry said, because it wasn’t, and Malfoy looked like a scared rabbit. His bottom lip was actually twitching. It actually really fucking hurt.

He came nearer again, and was the sea air always so thin? “I thought I knew what you – I’m sorry, Harry. For some reason I thought what you were saying meant that you felt like I… but I didn’t mean to presume, all right? I’m your friend, I know that. I’m happy even just being your friend. I don’t need anything more.”

“Good,” Harry spewed, crushed, far too frazzled for an actual thought. Although it sounded a bit like…

“Back out, then? I think I left my book in the room.”

Harry tilted his head, checking, but no water came out of his ears. He must have heard right. He caught the sight of a jade-colored bathing suit and his heart stopped dead in its track. Just? He’s happy even just being his friend? He thought Harry felt the way he – fuck. Fuck.

Harry was suddenly very happy he agreed to go on this vacation.

“Draco! Wait!”

#drarry #fic #an improved version if you'd like #it's hot it's summer y'all #pining harry #insecure draco #lotsa pining #RockingRobin69

[princehrry-writings]

Y/n's a witch and Harry's her soulmate

I'VE LITERALLY BEEN WORKING ON THIS FOR 2 MONTHS!!!

lanfvksbkvjbs I hope you guys like it because I poured my whole soul into this!!!! I wanted it to be over 10k but I felt like I was just dragging it on and the ending isn't great but it's ok.

I switch between present and past tense without meaning too- oops :)

wordcount: 9911

warnings: uhhh, swearing, google translated latin :) catcalling and unwanted male attention (with a bad witch moment... see what i did there😏), a little bit of violence, very lightly edited lmao

She didn’t quite understand what was going on. Was this another witch? No, she would have felt that energy differently. So he had to be a mortal. But why did it feel like she had just been set on fire in the best way possible.

“Thank you…” He muttered, eyes glazed over. “M’Harry, by the way.”

Harry.

What a magical name, she thought.

or

Harry walks into Y/n’s shop one day, sees the brooms sweeping by themselves and gets a little curious.

.

.

.

“Althea, get your claws out of there. You’re gonna get hair in the muffins!” Y/n shrieked, quickly shooing the troublesome feline away from the open bowl of batter sat atop the counter. The cat just meowed at her, unbothered by her person's shrieking. Thea was quite the diva. She couldn’t give a flying fuck even if she tried.

“Oh Stars, look what you’ve done!” Y/n continued, cleaning up the trail of paw prints left in the flour on the table. “How many times do I have to tell you to stay out of the kitchen when I’m baking Thea! Why don’t you ever listen!”

Y/n has been a little strung up lately. That’s probably the understatement of the century. Maybe if she hadn’t been put in charge of the shop for the first time by herself while her mother went to gather supplies and place orders for said shop, she wouldn’t be so stressed. She’s only 22 years into her eternal lifetime. She’s yet to learn the virtue of patience, her mind never ceasing to run with ideas and thoughts and feelings.

Her mother always griped about how she needed to take a deep breath and let go of the tension in her shoulders because now that she had stopped ageing- she had all the time in the world (literally) to do everything she was worried about. Y/n would argue that she’s not worried so much as eager. She’s just very excitable.

“Why do I even bother yelling at you anymore.” Y/n grumbled, flicking her wrist in the direction of the broom closet. The broom and dustpan came floating out and got to work sweeping up the bits of flower seeds and petals that had dropped off the table instead of into the mortar like she had planned.

Y/n’s never been known for her cleanliness.

Out of the blue, the hair on the back of her neck and arms stood at full attention, a warm shiver shooting down her spine. What the hell? She thought to herself. Thea didn’t seem bothered by whatever energy was coming closer so she knew it wasn’t any danger, but it was something. Y/n flicked her wrist once more, quickly sending the broom away and going to hide behind a wall where whoever this was couldn’t see her.

The little bells above the door chimed, alerting anyone inside that someone had just arrived. In walked, who Y/n thought to be, the most beautiful boy she thinks she’s ever seen. Chestnut curls shielded by a knit beanie, sea glass eyes, broad shoulders, a kind smile on his face. He looked as ethereal as she was.

She felt the earth shift under her feet, her heart speeding up slightly in his presence. He was magnificent, she thought. The shiver she felt was steadfast and unchanging, finding a home in the goosebumps covering her whole body. She had never felt like this before.

The witch watched from behind the wall as the man gazed about the shop, his hands rested behind his back. In a pair of black jeans with a rip in the knee and a white tee shirt with a cardigan thrown over it, he shuffled about.

Y/n took a deep breath, collecting herself before making her presence known. She walked out from behind the wall, stepping behind the main checkout counter and clearing her throat lightly.

“Welcome in! I’m Y/n, let me know if you need any help!” She said, trying not to cringe at how scripted that sounded.

His head popped up, eyes connecting with hers and that’s when they both felt the energy in the room grow. Thea came sauntering out of the kitchen area in the back, Y/n made a mental note to check the muffin batter for cat hair later, no doubt at the electrical charge of the room.

She didn’t quite understand what was going on. Was this another witch? No, she would have felt that energy differently. So he had to be a mortal. But why did it feel like she had just been set on fire in the best way possible.

“Thank you…” He muttered, eyes glazed over. “M’Harry, by the way.”

Harry.

What a magical name, she thought.

There was a pause, where neither of them wanted to move, in fear of this moment passing and never getting to feel like this ever again.

It felt like having a picnic on a warm summer day, where it’s not too hot but just right. It felt like the first breath of fresh Spring air, like hearing a baby giggle. She felt fuzzy and warm. Like she was wrapped in a hug. Y/n felt… peaceful. She felt all of her anxiety about the shop melt away, as if it had never been there.

Harry smiled at her, a pink tinge coating his skin, and pulled his eyes away (he didn’t want to make her uncomfortable by staring), continuing on with his peruse of the shop. He had no idea why he was here, truly. Didn’t realize where he was until he pushed through the door. He doesn’t even know what any of this stuff is, he’s just looking so it seems like he knows what he’s doing.

He felt something brush his ankle, looking down and seeing a fluffy snow white cat with striking green eyes (just like his!), and cooed at her.

“Is it alright if I pet her?” He asked, looking back up at Y/n. He would take any chance he got to look at her. She was the most beautiful girl he’d ever seen. With her shiny hair and kind eyes, a smile that made you want to hug her. She looked so welcoming. He felt… oddly peaceful.

“Yeah of course! She’s my little attention whore, aren’t you Thea?” Y/n giggled and Harry thought his heart would stop right there. Her little giggle was the most glorious sound he’d ever heard, he decided.

She got up from her little stool behind the counter and floated over to him, using her cat as an excuse to get closer. She just couldn’t figure out why she had such a pull to him. It didn’t make sense to her. Maybe he was a witch and was just masking his energy really well, maybe he was some sort of other creature, or maybe… no, that can’t be it.

Well…

Maybe… he’s her Flame. Her Twin Flame… Her Soulmate.

No. There’s no way. It’s so rare for witches to find their flames. And especially at such a young age. Y/n’s parents didn’t find each other for almost 75 years, and here she is at just 22, stumbling upon some magical happenstance where her Flame just saunters into her family’s shop.

Harry scratched behind Thea’s ear, a motor-like pur erupting from her little belly. She nuzzled into his touch, and then sprung up onto his shoulder from the table, startling the man. Y/n giggled at the look on his face, reaching up to scratch just above Thea’s tail, her favorite spot.

“She does that when she likes someone.” Y/n explained. A blush appeared on his face at this.

She likes him.

“So was there anything in particular you were looking for?” Y/n continued, hoping to make more conversation with him. Her fingers are buzzing, wanting to reach out and hold his hand or touch his arm, anyway she can get her hands on him really, but she knows that would be inappropriate so she refrains (however difficult it may be).

Harry was in the same boat. He felt the need to wrap her up in his embrace and never let her go. It was the strangest thing he thinks he’s ever felt.

“Honestly, no. I don’t really know what any of this stuff is… I didn’t even realize when I walked in but I didn’t want to look like a psycho just walking in and out of shops randomly.” A shy smile displays on his features.

Y/n chuckled. This furthers her hunch that he is, in fact, her Flame. Getting a random urge to come in here could only mean that the invisible string tying them together was leading him to her. Pulling them closer and closer everyday until this very moment, when they were fated to meet. Written in the stars to know each other, whether that be for love or friendship only time would tell.

She really hopes it’s love.

“Ok… We’re kind of just a general shop. We carry crystals, herbs, spices, oils, candles, and my mother does a lot of crafts, so we sell those here too.” Y/n went on to explain, Harry’s eyes flitted around to all the things she mentioned. He saw glittering crystals, by themselves but also made into jewelry like rings and necklaces, he saw bundles of different flowers and vials of liquids he assumed were the oils she mentioned.

“What is all this stuff for?” He questioned. He had never heard of anyone suddenly needing Oxeye Daisies or black onyx crystals, but he’d never been one to judge.

Y/n paused, thinking of the best way to explain everything. Practising “witchcraft” wasn’t an unusual topic to humans, but they didn’t know that witches with magic that was (semi-inaccurately) portrayed in movies and tv shows actually existed.

“Uhm, anything in the shop can be used for a number of things. Apothecary, gardening, herbal remedies, manifestation.” She explained. He nodded along with her words, doing his best to focus on what she was saying rather than just her. His body was tingling the closer she stood. He never wanted this feeling to go away.

Whatever this feeling was.

Harry looked around, his sights landing on a shelf full of colorful candles. His eyes lit up, trotting over to them, picking up one that was a light lavender color. He didn’t know he was drawn to this one in particular, but something had pulled him to grab it. Something was telling him to buy it, bring it home, and burn it on his bedside table, right next to his head every night.

It was Y/n’s favorite color.

The girl's cheeks burnt when she realized this was the one he had picked out. The occurrence might seem random to anyone passing by, anyone who didn’t know two halves of a soul had just been reunited with one another after being apart for however many years. But Y/n knew, and hopefully Harry would know soon.

She didn’t want to scare him though. He would think she was crazy. Imagine a random stranger that you’ve never seen before in your entire life tells you that you’re meant to spend the rest of your life together. He would run away screaming.

So she has to start slow.

“Think I might get a few candles…” Harry trails off, looking around at all the different shapes and sizes of colored wax sitting before him. Y/n smiles at this and nods, letting him know she’ll be at the counter if he needs anything.

Please need something, she hopes to herself.

He didn’t end up needing anything, but he ended up purchasing 3 candles, all of them being that same lavender color.

* .

. * .

It was a few weeks later when Y/n felt a familiar tingle run down her spine. Harry must be near, she thought.

She had spent the last fortnight and then some moping about the shop and her flat, hoping her Flame would turn up again. Her mother, Asteria, had been ecstatic when she heard that her daughter had found her Flame, and empathised with her pain, understanding that he was a mortal and it was difficult to form bonds with them quickly. The woman always found it interesting how the most indefinite creatures took the longest to form their bonds. But then she remembered they had no knowledge of Twin Souls and often settled for one not fated to them.

“Mama, he’s close. I can feel him!” Y/n cried, tidying her appearance in the reflection of the window. She hopes to the Stars that he’s coming to see her and not just passing through.

Waving away the brooms fluttering around the shop, she busies herself restocking shelves. Asteria had just finished a new batch of candles that needed shelving. The mother had been trying new recipes lately and was excited to see how they would fare.

Y/n almost misses the little chime of the bells signaling that someone has just entered. If it weren’t for the energy in the room skyrocketing and all the hair in her body standing at attention, she wouldn’t have noticed it at all. Turning, her gaze falls upon a familiar set of sea glass eyes and chestnut curls that have enchanted her mind every passing second since the first time they met. She tried her damndest to hide her grin, but had to turn away so he wouldn’t be able to see it.

Harry looked around the shop before his gaze fell upon the girl he hadn’t stopped dreaming about since he last was here. There she stood, back turned to him, with her shiny hair and adorable outfit. In a lavender colored sundress, hair pulled back by a white scarf, she fussed about the candle shelf that Harry had searched the last time he came.

Everytime he burned that candle, he thought of the way her eyes sparkled when she talked about the different items in the shop and how she smiled at him when he asked her a question.

Harry had never been one to jump into things quickly. He was the kind of guy that liked to get a feel for a situation before he really dived into it. But there was something about this girl that made him want to jump in head first, fearless. He hadn’t stopped thinking about her, daydreaming about little scenarios that he wished would happen between them.

He knows he sounds crazy, but he has a crush on her. And he’d only met her once! That is so not like him at all.

Y/n turned once again, sure that she had calmed the burning in her cheeks, greeting Harry as if she hadn’t thought of him in weeks.

“Welcome in,” she says, wondering if it would be weird to him if she remembered who he was, she decided she doesn’t care, “Oh, hi Harry!”

“Hello Y/n!” He smiles. Y/n felt her heart stutter in her chest when her name fell from his lips. As if she was floating (she had to check to make sure she actually wasn’t), she followed the sound of his voice, going to stand before him. Her first instinct was to hug him, and she was very sad that she had to stop herself.

“What brings you back?” She asked, itching to reach out and hold his hand. His gaze flits around for a few seconds before landing back on her face, a rose tint now on his cheeks.

“I- uh, I don’t really know. I just felt like I needed to come back…” He stuttered. A smile graced her lips, causing an identical one to grow on his own. Asteria watched from behind the counter, beaming at the couple.

“Y/n dear, who’s this?” The witch called. Y/n snapped out of her love-drunk haze, looking to her mother.

“Mama, this is Harry. He came in a few weeks ago while you were away.” She answered, giving her a look that said “please don’t say anything.” Asteria had a tendency to butt into her daughter's life, and Y/n needed to figure this out on her own.

Thea came flouncing out from whichever corner she had burrowed herself into and nosed at Harry’s feet before launching herself onto Y/n’s shoulder and staring at Harry from her new height advantage.

“Well look at you Thea, sittin’ all pretty up there!” Harry reached out to scratch behind her ears. Thea began purring loudly, louder than she did when Y/n petted her (Y/n did her best not to roll her eyes at her attention whore cat). The one thing the girl loved about this was now she had a reason to step closer to the boy before her. He smelled like citrus and woods, with a hint of weed (she’s not judging, she just wouldn’t peg him for a stoner so it’s a little surprising). She let it take over her senses until all she could think about was HaryHaryHary, having to stop herself from purring just like the cat.

“Well, whatever led you back here, it’s nice to see you again!” She blushed, deciding to let her affection for him shine through lightly. Y/n realized she didn’t really want to waste time dancing around mortal niceties. She didn’t want to scare him off but she wouldn’t feign disinterest. The witch wanted to make it clear she was smitten with him. So this was her way of starting slow, letting her blushes be seen, maybe resting a gentle hand on his bicep if he says something that makes her laugh, letting her longing gazes be caught before she looks away.

Like she said before, she’s going to start slow.

“I am too…” Harry wondered if maybe she felt the things he was feeling too. If she couldn’t stop thinking about him the way he couldn’t stop thinking about her. He wondered if it would be weird to ask her out. See if she wanted to get dinner with him, or have a picnic in a park on a sunny afternoon while he stared, as uncreepily as he could, at her bright smile and star-stricken eyes.

Very quickly, like it almost didn’t happen, Y/n saw a blush pink haze surrounding the boy. He was feeling love. The heat in her cheeks rose, fluttering of her heart increasing.

Now she knew for sure, he was her soulmate for love- not friendship. Thank the Stars!

* .

. * .

The next few weeks, Harry would come in every few days just to see Y/n. After realizing that she might be feeling the way he was, he wanted to make it clear to her that he was smitten. So he’d come in after he got done with whatever he’d been doing that day, bring her flowers or a blue-raspberry red bull italian soda (he saw her drinking one one day when he came by) and they would talk and sometimes he’d bring food if it was late and they would eat at the counter in the back kitchen. It became a routine, and he started showing up almost everyday. On slower days, she would close up early, so as not to have a single distraction from her Flame.

The two would talk about the most obscure things, not giving a rat if others heard them cackling at each other's jokes and misspeakings (Y/n stumbled over her words quite a bit when she was tired, he came to realize. He thought it was adorable).

In return for the beautiful flowers and the delicious drinks he’d bring her, Y/n would give him little spell jars or charmed items to make his life easier. He didn’t know they were spelled or charmed, but he thought it was cute how she gave him a lavender colored pen and told him he would think of her every time he wrote anything down (she had charmed it to always spell things correctly) or a little jar filled with lavender and chamomile buds, a few drops of lavender oil and a small amethyst crystal sealed in white wax to help quell the anxiety he’d been feeling with his job lately.

He appreciated them more than any material thing she could have purchased for him. He liked that she wanted him to think about her or that she wanted to do away with his ailments. He came in with a cold once and she spent the better part of an hour fussing over him, telling him all these little tricks to clear his sinuses and giving him different blends of herbs and spices that should clear this up in no time! He thought she was very adorable, worrying over a little cold and wanting to make him better.

Harry found that each time he left her, the force that pulled him to her grew stronger. He wanted to be in her presence more and more every time he walked out the door of the shop. The boy still didn’t really understand what it was about her, but he’s long since stopped asking questions and was just rolling with the punches.

Speaking of things Y/n did that Harry thought was cute- the things she said enamoured him, rendered him so speechless sometimes all he could do was sit there and look at her, (ironically) wondering what magical force brought her to him. He had no idea that the Universe herself was the one who chose his favorite girl.

“Oh Stars Thea! Get out of the nettle! It makes you sneeze, silly cat!”

“Stars forbid you ever listen to me, mother.”

“Althea Rose get your furry ass away from that hot wax before I feed you to the hellhounds!”

He loved how she was always saying Stars where he would normally say Jesus Christ. He never was one to be into religion but it was just something people around him said.

As the weeks went by, they began to sit closer and closer to each other. What started as across the table from one another, began to turn into her at the head and him on the corner next to her, then both of them sitting on one side but a bit of space between them, and then side by side, thighs touching, on the bench seat. Eventually, Y/n would lay one of her legs over his and he would rest his hand innocently on her skin, his thumb absentmindedly brushing back and forth, tapping his fingers to an imaginary beat as she told him a story about a kooky customer that came in.

That was another thing he loved that she said a lot: kooky.

Their goodbyes had grown more and more affectionate over time as well. From a little wave and a shy smile to a little hug, to a bear hug with a kiss on the temple from Harry.

Things were moving very swimmingly. Y/n was happy with the progress the two had made in getting to know each other. She had learned that he worked at a marketing firm but his passion was music, that he was in a band when he was in high school, and he’s from a village in Manchester.

Harry learned that Y/n has a degree in herbology and really likes the woods, and the show The Chilling Adventures of Sabrina (despite the inaccurate depiction of witches, she thinks the characters are pretty).

Y/n has been trying to figure out the best way to tell Harry about her… lifestyle. It’s going to be a big shift in his reality and she worries that she’s going to overwhelm him. Her parents didn’t have this problem because they were both witches, but she had been fated to a mortal, which she’s not complaining about because loves Harry and all his human afflictions (loves!), but it’s quite a task keeping him in the dark until she’s ready to shed light on everything.

Especially on a day like today.

Her mother is out again, leaving her in charge of the store, again! And as previously mentioned, Y/n gets a little strung up when she’s left in charge. She’s forgetful, her mind flying all over the place. Her messiness gets worse, leaving different things all over the place (she somehow left a grimoire in the refrigerator at home), losing things… Basically, Y/n’s not doing so hot at the moment.

A busy spell had just finished, she had like 7 different customers in at once, all of them needing her for different things and all the chamomile and lavender oil rubbed behind her ear in the world couldn’t calm the anxiety flowing through her at the moment. She’d been so strung up that she hadn’t noticed the warm golden shiver running down her spine or all the hair on her body raising to attention or the jingle of the bells on the door when Harry walked in.

Walked in to see… the brooms sweeping up by themselves? And different pots and pans flying back into place… with no one carrying them. And Y/n muttering words he didn’t understand while her fingers wiggled, making the pestle inside what he learned to be called a mortar, moving by itself.

To say the least, Harry was very confused. And a little scared. Was he dreaming? Did today even happen? Was he still at home lying in bed?

The only thing that makes him realize he’s not is the shriek Y/n let’s out when she sees him standing frozen in the doorway, eyebrows pulled together in confusion (and a little bit of terror), mouth agape like he wanted to say something but didn’t know where to start. All at once, every moving item ceased and dropped, including the pots and pans which made a very loud noise, scaring Thea so much that she did the loud “meow!” that you only hear cats do in movies, and Y/n let out a quiet“Shit!”

“Harry…” She muttered, standing up slowly and treading towards him.

“Um… Y/n. What- what the fuck… was all of that?” He stuttered, and she continued to walk to him.

“Love, why don’t we go sit down and I’ll explain everything to you!” Y/n said slowly. She had taken to calling him Love lately, not being able to stop herself. They had yet to really “confess their feelings” to the other, but it was like a silent thing that no one said but they both just knew. So the name didn’t surprise him. Actually in the midst of all this craziness (and how his whole world had just seemed to be flipped in a matter of 5 seconds) he was clinging to the familiarity of the pet name.

He nodded, his eyes glazing over as he tried to wrap his head around what he was seeing. Y/n waved her wrist, everything that had dropped seeming to come to life again and be put back into their rightful places. Harry stared in amazement. Seeing it for the second time really drove the nail into the coffin that holy shit this is really happening…

They sat down side by side on the bench where they normally did but Y/n didn’t put her leg over his like they had grown used to. She missed the contact but figured a little space while she explained everything would be best for her Flame. Harry didn’t agree and tugged her closer to him. She didn’t fight it.

“Ok,” She sighed, cracking her knuckles as she took a deep breath, “Harry… my darling Harry. I need you to keep an open mind while I tell you all of this ok? It’s gonna be a lot for you to take in and I don’t want you to get a headache.” He nodded, and she took his hands in her own, running her thumb over his palm and channeling positive energy between the two of them. She saw Harry relax a little, letting her know it worked. He was ready (as ready as he could be) to hear what she had to say.

“Love, I’m a witch.” She says, letting it sink in for a moment. Harry doesn’t say anything for a moment. Y/n wonders if he’s even breathing. The strong pulse thumping in his wrist is a steady reminder that he’s ok, just shocked. (Very, very shocked).

“I come from a very long line of very powerful witches. I have magic, kind of like you see in movies and tv shows except I don’t worship the devil or eat children. None of us do. We’re usually very gentle creatures, unless we’re put in danger. Witches don’t use magic to hurt others, quite the opposite actually.”

“So… you cast spells and stuff?” He asks quietly. She breathes a laugh through her nose, nodding her head, continuing to channel him by rubbing her thumbs over his palms.

“I do, that’s what you saw me doing at the counter. I was actually strengthening the anti-anxiety jar I gave you a few weeks ago, because you told me you had a big project coming up and I didn’t want you to get too stressed out.” The girl said.

Harry couldn’t really focus on one thing for too long, letting his gaze flit around the kitchen area. He felt oddly… calm.

“Why do I feel so calm right now? I feel like I should be freaking out a little bit more than I am…” He voiced, finally looking into her eyes.

“I’m channeling you… look.” She said, pointing her gaze to their hands. He sees her thumbs rubbing gentle circles into his palms and looks back into her eyes.

“You’re casting a spell on me right now?” Harry wonders out loud.

“Channeling isn’t necessarily a spell, I’m just focusing and directing positive energy onto you right now, to help keep you calm. Like I said, I don’t want you to get a headache or pass out on me. I can stop if you want me to though!” She added quickly at the end but he shook his head.

“No, don’t stop…” He almost cried, pulling her closer to him.

“Ok, I won’t. It’s ok!” She shushed him, letting one of her hands float to his cheek, brushing over his cheek bone and pushing a fallen curl out of his eyes, before her hand found his again.

“Was it a spell that made me want to come in here that first day?”

“No baby, that’s actually a little different. This might be a little much so you gotta bear with me ok?” She explained and he nodded, heaving out a heavy breath.

A beat of silence passes and Y/n lets her eyes lock with his.

“We’re Twin Flames… or what you would know as Soulmates. We were fated to be together. That’s why you felt a pull to come in here. We were… destined… to meet each other.”

Harry doesn’t say anything and Y/n feels like her heart is about to beat out of her chest. She knew he was going to find out someday, but really didn’t expect that day to be this one. This crazy long day where everything had seemed to just bubble over and explode. She should have known something was going to happen when this morning, the flame on the candle she had lit for Harry on her altar was taller than it ever had been. She had written it off to him just thinking about her or something (if this was the case, it would be to the ceiling all day everyday because he never stops thinking about her), but she should have known. And now, here she was, terrified that Harry was going to walk away from her. She would understand if he did, it’s a lot to take in, and having your whole world flipped on its head is a bit much.

It would still break her heart though.

“So… this is normal?” Harry broke his silence.

“Is what normal?”

“That I want to be around you all the time? That I think about you all the time? What I’m feeling is normal?”

Y/n’s face softens. He’s so cute, she thinks. She could just wrap him up in a little bow and keep him all to herself for the rest of time.

“Yes, baby. It’s normal! I’ve been feeling the same things as you ever since we first met!” Harry’s mind is a little clearer now, so he picks up on the new pet name. Baby. He likes it, he decides.

“You feel this way too?” He looks like a little puppy right now, Y/n could just cry. She nodded her head, scooting impossibly closer to him, practically sitting in his lap. It seemed now that he was even calmer than he had been before, even without her channeling. She stopped for a second to test his reaction and he was ok. He didn’t tense up, eyes didn’t well in tears, didn’t lose consciousness. So she moved her hands to cup his cheeks now, feeling him lean into her touch.

“You’ve been the only thing on my mind since before you even walked through the door that first day. You’re in my dreams every night, I see you every time I close my eyes, I’m completely taken with everything you do.” Y/n confesses, feeling a weight lift off her chest.

“I know it seems fast to you, as a mortal. Your kind usually takes this kind of thing slowly, really learns a person before you become vulnerable. Out of fear for being judged or whatever it might be, but I would never judge you. I want you to know it’s ok to let your guard down with me. Whatever you're comfortable with! I don’t want to overwhelm you in any way, and I know all of this is so so much to take in. I just want what’s best for you, my Love.”

It’s not lost on Harry that she adds my before Love. He feels his heart flutter.

“I’m taken with everything you do too. Absolutely everything.” He whispers, if he speaks too loudly the moment might be lost.

They stare into each other's eyes, feeling the energy in the room grow. Flames from the lit candles around the room grow tenfold, reflecting the rising energy. Harry has half a mind to break his gaze from the girl before him, seeing the tall flames before bringing his eyes back to hers. He sees her gaze drop to his lips repeatedly. He doesn’t think she even realizes that she’s leaning in to him, but he’s not going to stop her.

When she’s so close he can feel her breath fanning over his face, she pauses, looking back up to his eyes, silently asking for permission. With her hands still cupping his cheeks gently, she closes the distance between them, pressing her lips delicately to his. Harry places his hands in two places: her waist and her neck. He pulls her in closer, pressing their lips together more firmly. A wildfire spreads from head to toe on both of them. It seems as though time has paused for this very moment, and again the earth shifts. A piece of the universe has just been restored, two halves of a soul reunited.

Harry’s fingertips send sparks flowing down her spine, she hums against his lips. The kiss is simple, just two people getting to know each other, learning the other's body, but it’s long. It’s not just one peck. Harry presses his lips against hers multiple times, slotting her bottom between both of his.

When Y/n pulls back to catch her breath, Harry chases after her, not ready to end this moment yet. She chuckles and grants him a few more kisses until she really is about to pass out because she needs to breathe. Pushing him gently, she breaks the kiss and rests her forehead against his, keeping her eyes closed.

She so badly wants to let the three words sitting on the tip of her tongue go, but doesn’t want to overwhelm him with too much all at once.

“Do you feel that?” He whispers, pulling her to sit astride his lap. She moves pliantly, letting him take control of the situation.

The air feels charged, thick, like it should be hard to breath but it flows, smooth as water, into their lungs.

Y/n’s head feels heavy, like she’s high on every drug there ever was, her mind fuzzy, unable to think outside of this moment. Outside of this little wrinkle in time where Harry is the only other thing that exists.

“Yeah,” She whispers back, reconnecting their lips, slotting them together over and over until their lips are puffy and red. Harry slides his hands around her waist, wrapping his arms around her, pulling her flush against him, not even a slip of paper would fit.

Pulling away, Harry heaves in a deep breath, squeezing Y/n’s hips.

“I’ve been wanting to do that for so long…” He says, nudging his nose against hers. She smiles, letting his affections wash over her, warming her eternal soul.

“This doesn’t freak you out?”

“Oh, I’m so freaked out but I'm kind of just going with it, living in the ambiguity and all that shit.” He heaves a laugh through his nose, pressing kisses to her cheek and down her neck, smoothing his hands up and down her back.

This was the best possible outcome of the situation, if Y/n had to be honest. It could have gone so many ways. Harry being freaked out but rolling with it… she’ll take it.

“How about we make dinner and you can ask me any questions you have?” She suggested and he nodded.

So they did just that. But Y/n closed the shop early and they went back to her place. Hand in hand they walked the few blocks, side glaces of reassurance and little squeezes of the hand, letting the other know they were there, and they weren’t going anywhere, with Thea in her little travel backpack (that she was absolutely in love with surprisingly).

They came upon an unsuspecting alleyway. Harry thought they were just passing through as a shortcut but Y/n stopped walking in the middle of a blank brick wall and muttered a few words she didn’t understand while waving her hands. He started to realize maybe this wasn’t just a shortcut.

Before his eyes, a door appeared. His brows shot up in surprise (he’s gonna get worry lines on his forehead if he doesn’t stop doing that, he realizes). Y/n looked over her shoulder at him, trying to hide a smirk but the look on his face was too good.

“Pretty wicked huh?” Harry didn't say anything, just chuckled and nodded, following her when she opened the door and a set of stairs appeared. Walking up the dimly lit hallway, they come to another door with the cheeky The Witch Is In sign.

“Cute.” Harry smirks at her and she laughs, opening it and letting him walk through first.

“Make yourself at home! I’ve got records on the shelf over there, you can pick one if you want. I’m just gonna feed Thea and get her all settled and we can get to making dinner.” Y/n explained. Harry ventured off into her living room, seeing the shelf she was talking about and browsing through. There were many different artists from Fleetwood Mac to Taylor Swift to Weezer. He picks out Hozier's self-titled album and puts it on, the beginning of Take Me To Church crackling through the speakers.

“Good choice,” He hears from behind him and smiles, turning around to see the girl he was apparently destined to spend the rest of his life with standing before him.

“Jackie and Wilson has been stuck in my head the last few days so,” He said, sauntering over to her and snaking his arms around her waist.

Taking a look around, he sees many different trinkets and items similar to what was in the shop. A lot of jars filled with different things, candles of all different colors, crystals, a broom (he didn’t realize witches actually had brooms but ok), among other things that he didn’t know the purpose of.

“Wait… how are there windows in here? I didn’t see any outside.” He asked, pulling back from the hug and looking at her.

“Well, there aren’t any windows in the alley. But there’s also a glamour spell on this building so nobody can see my apartment. That’s why you can’t see the door until I do the little thing you saw me do.” She answered. A sheepish smile broke onto his face.

“Oh,” he said and she laughed from her chest, petting a few fallen curls back from his forehead. She could get used to this, she thinks as she stares into his eyes, green as the forest and wide with wonder at everything he’s discovered today.

Who knew the girl he was falling in love with would be a witch… with actual powers.

* .

. * .

“Wait so, if no one can see your front door… how do you get mail?” Harry asked, reaching around Y/n for the salt.

“At the shop,”

“Oh,” He says. She laughs, kissing his cheek and continuing on cutting up veggies for the salad they're making.

“Have you always been able to do magic or was it something you grew into?” Y/n thought back to when she was little, remembering how she struggled to harness her powers for a few years before she started getting the hang of things.

“I always had powers, but imagic isn’t something you just wake up and know how to do so it took a while for me to really settle into and control. Magic is a skill, same as reading and writing, so I had to be taught and I had to work on it. Does that make sense?” She pauses while she explains, looking into his eyes. Harry nods, but his light hearted curious expression turns into one of embarrassment and she doesn’t understand why.

A rosy red color surrounds him, telling her he was feeling… embarrassed? Why did he feel embarrassed?

“Baby? What’s going through your head?” She asks, wanting to help him feel better.

She doesn’t like when he’s feeling anything other than happy!

“I just… I feel like I’m asking you so many questions about all of this stuff and it’s just tough to wrap my head around I guess.” She puts the knife down and sets her hand on his wrist, stopping from what he’s doing. She places her other hand on his shoulder, coaxing him to face her.

“Harry, this is a lot to take in, yeah? It’s not something you can just find out and move on from. It’s gonna take time to process. You’re gonna feel a lot of emotions, and that’s ok! I would be worried if you weren’t feeling a little off, as much as I hate that you’re not feeling 100%.”

She places a series of gentle pecks on his lips, doing her best to soothe him in any way.

“Ask all the questions you want! You don’t have to worry about being judged or saying something wrong, you have a right to be curious.” She feels him relax in her hold which in turn makes her relax.

“Thank you for being patient with me,”

He’ll get used to this, he thinks. He’ll get used to the fact that real witches actually exist, he’ll start to understand the words she mutters when she waves her hands, he’ll get it eventually. But right now, he doesn’t really get it, he’s not really used to it. But she’s worth it. She’s worth more than everything.

“I think you’re the one thing I know how to be patient with,” Again, she wants to mutter those three words on the tip of her tongue, but he’s already been through so much today, she doesn’t want to overwhelm him any more than he already is. So she’ll wait, because one day (hopefully soon) he’ll be ready to hear them.

“Can you do a spell? I kind of want to see how they work…” Harry asks after a moment of them just enjoying the silence that only really comes when two people understand each other.

She chuckles and nods, telling him she will show him a few spells after dinner. He agrees and they go back to making their meal, dancing around each other and laughing just like they always did and it felt good. Felt like this would be ok. Y/n was still scared because he could still decide to leave, that this was too much for him. That she was too much for him.

But for right now, things were ok.

* .

. * .

“Amoris et lux sum ego ipse, et carorum beatum facere potest, per potentiam solem et lunam, ut superius, et inferius.”

(I am love and light, I bring happiness to myself and my loved ones, By the power of the sun and moon, as above, so below)

Harry doesn’t think he’s ever heard anything weirder in his life...and his college roommate freshman year was a conspiracy theorist.

As Y/n spoke the words, she stirred a brew of tea infused with different herbs clockwise. He watched from beside her as she did this, his hand placed on her thigh so that his energy could be used in the spell along with hers.

Before she said the spell, she told him to set an intention and he had no idea what that was so she did a little lesson after reassuring him that his question was valid. (He’s still feeling insecure about not understanding anything she was talking about.) She told him to “close your eyes, take a deep breath, and clear your mind. Think of something you want in life that isn’t material.”

His immediate thought was that he wanted to spread kindness and love in the world (Y/n did her best not to tear up at her Flame’s pure intentions) so she nodded, telling him to think about that and only that, and set her intentions to the same thing so the spell would work. Mixing lavender, rose petals, and chamomile in a large mug, she pours in hot water to steep the herbs and, as previously mentioned, stirs it clockwise (something about clockwise being for manifestation), , rubs her palms together and snaps her fingers, and snuffs out the candles she had lit.

When all is said and finished, Y/n pulls Harry into a sweet kiss, and then has him take a sip of the tea telling him be careful my Love, it’s still hot. He kisses her back, taking a sip of the tea (he’d never been one for lavender things but this was actually really good. He wonders if it has anything to do with the fact that Y/n made it).

“So we just drink this and then what?” He asks, handing her the mug.

“We sacrifice an animal,” She says, not skipping a beat and taking her sip. Harry chokes on his spit, gasping for a breath of air before the girl bursts into a fit of giggles.

“I’m just kidding, baby. That’s it. That’s the whole spell. You just have to honestly believe it for it to work.” She says and he heaves a sigh of relief.

“Don’t joke like that!” He whines, more giggles escaping from Y/n’s throat.

“I’m sorry bub, I won’t do that anymore.” She says, still fighting off laughs. They continue to sip the tea, Y/n telling Harry about different things she did during the day.

Harry looked upon her as if she hung the moon just for him, and was telling him all about how she did it. Without even realizing it, he started to feel warmer and like a buzz was coursing through his veins.

“I feel weird…”

“What do you mean you mean you feel weird?” She voiced, pressing the back of her hand to his forehead and then feeling his pulse. Both were normal.

“I feel warm and like I’m buzzing… Kind of like I’m high…” He explained and she nodded her head, a small sigh of relief escaping her.

“That’s the spell working baby. You’re ok!”

“Oh, ok. It just worried me a little,”

“You’re ok! I want you to tell me when something worries you or feels different or off.” She says, and places a hand on his thigh. Harry agrees and they continue with their conversation.

When they both took their last sips on the tea, they cuddled up on the couch, an incense stick and candle lit on the coffee table.

Y/n sat, manipulating the smoke and flame simultaneously while Harry watched with a wide eyed gaze. She had explained how this was something he would be able to learn if he wanted to, and that she had been practicing for years to be able to do both things at the same time.

“I started when I was… I want to say 5. It’s a simple skill that promotes concentration. You have to stay extremely focused to even manipulate one element at a time. It’s only been these last few years that I’ve been able to concentrate enough to do both.” She explained, taking a break. As much as she loved showing Harry all these different things, it took a lot of energy out of her and it had already been a dreadfully long day.

“How about we go to sleep and I’ll show you more tomorrow? I’m pooped!” Harry hums an agreement, lifting his head from her lap and letting her lead the way to her bedroom.

Light lavender walls adorned with shelves full of plants and different nicknacks, and a desk with more candles, herbs, and other eclectic items sat atop it.

“What is all of this?” He sifts through all the things on the desk, not touching as Y/n had explained to him at some point today, I know you don’t have any ill intent, but a lot of this stuff absorbs other people's energy which can mess up what I use it for, so look and don’t touch. If you want a closer look, I’ll pick it up. There are different colored stones of varied shapes and sizes and many candles. One in particular catches his eyes. A green one with a very tall flame with something carved into the side of it. “What’s up with this green candle?”

“This is my altar, and the green candle is the one I have lit for you. I’m assuming that because you’re here, it’s going a little crazy. Nothing to be afraid of! I’m actually going to put it out since you’re here with me.” She explained quickly, reaching towards the flame with her finger and snuffing it out.

“Wait, you had a candle lit for me?” His eyes rounded, a shy smile coming onto his lips. An identical smile graced her features as she turned to look at him.

“Yeah, I’ve had one lit for you since the day we met. I made a sigil and carved it into the side and keep it lit day and night as an extra layer of protection for you.” She explained. Harry felt his heart melt at this.

She couldn’t get any cuter, he thinks.

A candle lit for him… to keep him safe. That’s adorable.

He leans in and places a gentle kiss on her lips, brushing the little hairs away from her face.

Y/n led him further into her room where her ensuite bathroom was, giving him a tooth brush and letting him know he could shower if he wanted to. When he came back into the room after getting ready, Y/n laid out on the bed in a sports bra and shorts. He just wore his boxers.

Climbing into bed next to her, she cuddled up to him right away, his arm finding a home around her body and her head laid on his chest, listening to his heart beat.

“Been dreaming about this moment my whole life,” Y/n mumbled, cheek smushed against his skin, making her look all cute and cuddly. Harry had to hold back a coo at the sentiment.

“Me too Moppet, me too,” He sighed, and they both drifted off into warm, fluffy, dream-like states, wrapped in the safety of each other's arms.

* .

. * .

Walking down the street at night isn’t the best idea for normal women, Y/n had learned over her 22 years of life. But Y/n is not a normal woman. She’s a witch.

And while most women carry their keys between their knuckles and have tasers or pepper spray or mace at the ready, Y/n didn’t really need that. This was one of the only instances where she would use her magic to harm anyone. Like she’d said before- only when she’s put in danger (or someone else around her is put in danger).

So when a prick who reeks of whiskey starts tailing her, she waits for him to take the first blow. Waits for him to get a little too close, so she can turn around and unleash her wrath on him. All the while making it seem like it’s not her doing. Like causing a brink to fall off the roof above her and hit him in the head. She wouldn’t actually do that but a witch could dream.

No, she’ll trip him up without turning around and if he still insists on gaining her attention, she’ll spin around quick, flick her wrist and send him into an unconscious daze and let him sleep off his inebriation on the lovely warmth of the concrete sidewalk.

That’s exactly what she does.

“Hey sweetheart, where you goin’?” He slurs, beginning his trek behind her. She’s unresponsive which leads him to believe she’s playing hard to get because his fragile little man ego can’t fathom that a woman would ignore his attention.

“Oh c’mon baby don’t be like that!” He speeds up, already wobbling but this only serves to make him clumsier.

She does her thing, flicking her wrist in his direction (discreetly) so he trips, but this doesn’t stall him. He reaches out, effectively grabbing her arm. She whips around to face him, cheeks growing red hot with anger. Ripping her arm out of his grasp and twisting his arm around, she gets close to his face.

“Touch me again, I fucking dare you!” She snarls, doesn’t even realize her grip is burning into his flesh- her magic gets a little crazy when she’s mad. Releasing him (tossing his arm away from her in a rough manner), she flicks her wrist once again and mutters a quick “et obliviscere somnum*”, watching him fall to the ground, unconscious. She looked around to see if anyone was watching the scene go down but no one was sober enough to pay attention to some drunk bloke harassing a young woman.

*(forget and sleep)

She shakes off her frustration as she comes to a stop in front of an unfamiliar building. Where her Flame lives.

She had agreed to let him make her dinner at his house, so she packed an overnight back and made her way further into town. He had given her an address and while, yes she did use it, she also let their bond lead her to him. She just kind of knew where to go, it seemed. Harry had expressed that he felt something similar the first time he went into the shop, though he didn’t understand why he wanted to walk in- just felt like he had to.

Making her way up the stairs, she let’s Harry know she’s there, beginning to feel the familiar tingle rush down her spine. She hadn’t seen him for a week and a half since he's been busy with a project at work- a client wasn’t happy with all the work he and a coworker had done so they had to quickly re-do an entire proposal to meet the client's deadline. Needless to say- the little anti-anxiety jar she made him was coming in real handy lately. Y/n had also had him put citrine and amethyst points on his desk while he worked to help him focus and stay calm so he didn’t stress too badly.

She always had a little something to make his life easier, whether it be a stone, or a jar of different things (a spell jar, he’d learned), or whatever it may be- she always had something to help.

When she made it to his floor, he was standing there waiting for her with open arms. She ran to him, jumping into his arms and holding onto him tight.

“I missed you, my wild girl,” He muttered into her neck, spinning her around. Her face flushed without fail, her arms wrapping tighter around him.

“Missed you most,” She sighed, nuzzling into him.

“Don’t think that’s possible.”

She hummed in disagreement while he walked them inside, Y/n still wrapped around him like a koala bear. His house smelled of peach and mango. It’s sweet- just like him. The thought made her smile.

Giving him a big smacking kiss on the cheek, she pulls back to have a look at his face, seeing he’s smiling like an idiot. It warms her heart to see him smile, butterflies breaking out of their cocoons and fluttering about her tummy.

“What’re you smiling for?” She voices, giggling at him.

“M’ happy you’re here,” He sighed, “Don’t like not seeing you.”

“I don’t like not seeing you either,” She frowned, petting his wild curls back and placing little pecks all around his face.

His cheeks flushed at her affection.

Harry set Y/n down on the kitchen counter, standing in between her legs, hands resting on her hips. Leaning forward, he pressed his lips to hers lightly, before slotting them together, fully indulging himself in his girl. She responds immediately, letting her hands rest around his neck.

She will never not be amazed by how soft his lips are. Kissing him feels like floating through clouds, like laying down in bed after a long day on your feet. Kissing him is like the first breath of warm summer air after the longest winter. Kissing him feels like coming home.

Y/n’s heartbeat picks up as the kiss becomes more needy, leaning into him further. Harry pulls her closer, his hands ghosting up the bare skin under her shirt and fiddling with the band of the bralette she’s wearing. A gasp escapes her lips when he pulled the fabric up, letting it snap back to her skin causing a smirk to grow on his face- struggling to keep up with her lips.

He kisses her breathless before pulling away, watching as her eyes flutter open and she heaves air into her lungs, her cheeks flushed and supple.

“Don’t want the food to burn,” He smirks again, hands falling away from her body, moving the pots and pans on the stove around to the counter so he could plate their dinner.

“Asshole,” He hears her mutter.

Harry could get used to this, having Y/n around. Being able to come home to her, make them dinner, make out in the kitchen, fall asleep together. He can’t believe he ever thought he loved anyone before she came along. There was just no way. Y/n came into his life and took over every aspect and now he couldn’t imagine a world without her in it. He hopes to the Stars he doesn’t have to.

Yeah, she’s got him praying to the stars now.

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