#longest fic i ever read without a doubt

[lovelybarnes]

hopeless- b. barnes

pairings: bucky barnes x reader, natasha romanoff, steve rogers, tony stark. oc warnings: kidnap, torture, reader is threatened, rejection, ANGST about: request! “where bucky nd reader have a big argument nd then she storms out in the middle of the night leading to her being kidnapped. Then the whole time she thinks bucky isn't coming for her due to the fight” a/n: phew this took a hot minute. my longest fic. do not like the ending, but i hope you enjoy!!

bucky’s smile is wide as he observes you flit about your room, a silly twinkle in his eyes while they observe your exaggerated thinking gesture, obviously dramatic in your search for his next book to read. he leans against your wall, amused by your pulled features as they contemplate two different books: one red and well-loved and one blue and weathered.

“hmm, do you want something sad and romantic that has lines that make me doubt that i’ll ever find love,” you begin, raising the blue book higher. “or something classic and sweet and scary?” you continue, shaking the red one.

“how could you doubt you’ll find love?” bucky wonders aloud then, and you turn to your bookshelf again just to get away from the intensity of his gaze. 

you shrug, unsure of how to respond, busying yourself with putting one of the books away.

“it’s you,” bucky continues, stressing the pronoun as if its implication is obvious. “you’ll get the best love. the pure and mushy type.”

the lazy shapes your fingers are rubbing into the spine of your book slow as you soak in the implications that bucky’s words carry with them. when you force yourself to meet his eyes, you’re unsurprised to find them on you already, but it’s startling to meet their depth, the way they were willing you to turn around without your knowledge. you begin to walk toward him, feigning your purpose as handing him the blue book.

“yeah?” you find yourself replying as you step forward slowly, searching for something deeper in bucky’s face as it breaks out in a smile.

“yeah,” bucky agrees with dead-set certainty. “the universe would be insane for giving you anything less.”

you smother the bashful smile that fights to make only its whisper appear on your face, holding back the urge to look at the ground in overwhelming emotions due to the entirety of the situation—the implications that you’d thought ridiculous of you to even consider seeming more concrete with the honesty of the words that bucky promises to you, making his eyes gleam just a little bit brighter with an unbridled determination that you’d never seen before.

“anything less than what?” you ask, testing the waters simply for reassurance that might push you over an edge you aren’t sure you want to cross.

“anything less than what you deserve,” bucky clarifies. “the sweet, sappy love with the notes and pictures and gifts and safety and never letting you forget how loved you are. the basics.”

you cock your head at him, trying not to drown in the wishes you had listed long ago that tumble from bucky’s mouth. 

“oh,” you whisper, eyes flickering to the polaroids you have around your room, adorned with small, smudged words written messily in pen by bucky when he’d given them to you. there are post-its scrawled with his handwriting taped to your walls and hidden in a box underneath your bed. you can’t help but see the parallels between his explanation of the love you “deserve” and the love he constantly rains over you.

the attraction you’d begun to harbor for him yearns more at the possibility of it being returned—because here he is, laying it out for you with his reflection displayed on the plans.

“the universe would be insane to not give you that,” bucky goes on, the absolute resolve that you can make out in his words staggering. “anyone overall would be insane not to love you.”

there’s a twinkle in his eye that you’d grown used to, yet you observe when you look up at him again, what you were trying to do forgotten as you search his features. he doesn’t seem to acknowledge how deeply you scrutinize the softened lines of his face, the gentle lift of his lip as he looks at you.

you swallow, beginning to step toward him. “really?”

“yeah,” bucky replies like it’s obvious, nearly nonchalant but it fails with how deep his intent runs. 

you realize the space that separated you wasn’t all that large when you find yourself closer to him than you thought before, and your breath stalls, completely caught up in the moment. bucky doesn’t seem too different, dilated pupils unmoving from your face, tugging you closer without a single touch.

“oh,” you breathe out, goosebumps rising on your skin when bucky puffs out a gentle laugh, his hand reaching to set on your jaw.

“what?” he asks curiously, his thumb pressing soft shapes into your cheek.

it’s like honey, his touch, the severity of his stare clicking something inside of you that you’d been so afraid to open.

suddenly, you’re certain. because surely nobody can look at you the way bucky is looking at you—touch you with the care he treats you with, tell you all the things he whispers in your ear without reflecting the feelings you have for him.

“i love you,” you blurt, tangled in a breath with the relief of the admission finally meeting your tongue, watching as something passes through his face—surprise, at first, and then there’s a brief indication of relief, just a flash, gone quickly enough to let you believe it was simply a figment of your imagination. his fingers stop moving on your face, and suddenly his features harden, pulling his touch away entirely.

there are alarm bells ringing in your brain, because this is not going the way you’d convinced yourself it would. he was supposed to smile and kiss you clumsily, mumbling out that he loved you too and you would say obviously and he would laugh.

not removing himself from your reach, staring holes into your head, red bubbles of frustration darkening his eyes.

“what the fuck?” he snaps. and the words are so sudden and sharp that they nearly make you flinch, spine straightening with a velocity that jumbles your words with the speed at which they try to tumble from your lips. he either doesn’t notice or doesn’t care. 

“you what?” he demands, his tone foreign to your ears coming from the same lips that have never once let words edged with a raised tone slip past. bucky doesn’t speak to you like that. bucky doesn’t harden and bucky never raises his voice. not at you, never at you.

you swallow harshly, trying to remember the bucky that you know, convince yourself that this isn’t real—this is wrong—but his features are masked with a pinch you’d never seen directed at you, tense lines hardening his face with a chilling anger.

“i love you,” you repeat, but the words are weaker now, not as easily formed as the first time.

“no you don’t,” bucky interrupts immediately, thinning his eyes at you. “what the hell? no, you don’t—you can’t.”

you blink fast, looking away from his face, scrunched in anger, but he isn’t having it. “i do—”

“you can’t fuckin’ do this to me, y/n. i don’t need this,” he growls.

“what?” you croak. “i don’t—i thought you—”

“i don’t,” bucky snaps, forcing the lies to escape his throat. “i don’t love you.”

the words knock the air from your lungs, eyes beginning to burn with tears that don’t come easily to you. “what?” you whimper.

“how could you think i did?” he asks, ripping out your heart as it beats and shakes and sobs.

he tries to pretend like it’s not him who is saying these horrible things, as if he’s closing his eyes, hidden away from the body that continues to deny your confession for your own good. “what the hell is wrong with you?” he’s never thought his voice could be so harsh.

“i didn’t mean to—” you begin, your voice as small as you’d ever heard it, trembling with your worst fear solidifying. you should have known. how could you have been such a fool? bucky does not need to deal with one of the few friends he’s so close to in the tower having a stupid, unrequited crush on him. you’ve made things so difficult, you’ve ruined your relationship. “i’m sorry.”

“you’re sorry?” he mocks cruelly, shaking his head. “i don’t want this. i don’t want you.”

your neck snaps up when you hear him beginning to leave, rushing forward to tug his arm gently. “please don’t leave,” you plead tearily. “can we pretend like i never said anything? nothing will change, i promise. i can’t lose you.”

bucky’s laugh is cold, splintering through your heart. “how could you be so—” he shakes his head, shutting his mouth before he can finish his thought. “i can’t believe you.”

“i’m sorry,” you cry, tears bubbling down your cheeks before you can stop them in a stupor of shame. “i’m so sorry, bucky, i will do anything—”

“shut up,” he snarls, and the words die on your tongue with the venom in the way he looks at you. “i can’t even look at you right now. stop fuckin’ crying and leave me alone. i can’t deal with you.”

his words, dipped in his fury, are unrecognizable, foreign from the man who mutters jokes into your ear on movie nights and tucks pieces of hair away from your eyes, who deals with any problem with a deep breath and an assurance that it will be okay because he hates to get mad at you, he hates seeing you cry and there is absolutely nothing you could do to make him love you any less.

the sharp slam of the door of your room counters that, bringing with it the blade of the words that still thunder in your head.

your face crumples, hot droplets of tears burning your skin.

the heat of bucky’s anger burns even from where you’re standing, and the utter hatred in the way he looked at you, spoke to you, makes you shake. you stifle cries, desperate to not bother your best friend and slide down your bed to the floor, biting your lip hard enough to draw blood in a weak attempt to calm your cries.

you shut your eyes, bucky’s words displayed proudly across your dark lids. you straighten, sadness melting away into anger. you rub at your nose, face heating in your fury, and rush out of the room, not bothering to grab your phone or bag, uncaring that it’s the middle of the night and the sky is the darkest you’ve ever seen.

you pointlessly wipe your face with your sleeve as you rush into the elevator and push the button for the ground floor, your mask of rage slipping when you pass bucky’s room. your lip wobbles as you stare at the numbers above the elevator doors until you’re unable to help the sobs as your mind races to find a solution to what you’ve done.

this is your fault. this is your fault and you need to fix it or else the only person you’ve felt so much love for and so loved by will never look at you the same again. you can’t stand making bucky angry, much less causing something that will make his life difficult—especially after he’s worked so hard to create some sense of normalcy and trusting relationships—but it’s difficult to concentrate on how to fix it when the fear that you’ve ruined the best relationship you’ve had over your stupidity inks your thoughts.

you’re distraught enough to walk six blocks and never once notice the men that follow behind you.

your mind lags when you’re suddenly thrown against a wall, the hiccups from your sobs increasing because of the hand that covers your mouth. your vision is too blurry with tears for you to recognize any of the people that are in front of you, hands useless as they attempt to claw at the arms that hold you against the unyielding alley. the training tony had made you go through when he hired you as his lab tech feels useless as you choke on your grief and fear, weak in your struggles against their attack.

it’s easy for them to knock you out, and you can only feel the ache of your hurt expanding icily as your attacks cede, limbs growing limp, damp eyelids drooping shut.

-

your eyes are swollen when you come to again, and you can’t be sure if it’s from the crying you could still feel in your raw throat or the assault you couldn’t even remember anymore. you blink hard, trying to adjust to the darkness of the room you think you’re in.

briefly, tony’s voice rings in your head, reminding you to look for exits and weapons. you can only see one door in the darkness, and as far as you can make out, it does not have a doorknob. although you doubt you could muster up enough strength to escape from the binds that dig into your wrists and ankles, surely bruising your skin although you barely fight against them. the room is bare and unclean, with stains of the color of rust at your feet.

you know it’s no use screaming. all it would do is bleed your throat further and anger your kidnappers.

the name makes you flinch. the word feels so usual yet foreign in your mind. it’s unfairly common in your place of work, but never to you—not the scientist that tony keeps safely hidden away in the lab. not the tech that has gone on the field once and was stuck to bucky’s side for the entirety of the time.

the thought of him brings an ugly taste to your mouth and a new rush of painful tears. you fucked up the relationship with your best friend and now he was furious at you. he doesn’t even want to look at you. will he ever even get the chance again? would he notice you were gone? would he care?

there’s a faint commotion beyond the doors that makes your thoughts freeze in their tracks. your kidnappers are saying something.

the rightful title appears in your thoughts again, making the reality of your situation set in faster than you were expecting it to; you were kidnapped, and nobody was going to find you.

-

out of everything, it’s guilt that bucky is most accustomed to.

it’s heavy and spiteful, eating away at his mind until it’s clouded even the memories he’s tried to keep hidden away from the fog that is his sin. it sneaks into the crooks of his life—the argument his brain pipes up with when he’s debating taking the last donut, the reason that he doesn’t allow himself to enjoy himself fully—why he won’t let himself believe that your revelation was anything more than fake.

why would an honor so sweet be bestowed upon someone like him? someone with stained fingertips and a broken mind.

it screws with him, the possibility of the truth. because no matter how much the voice of logic in his mind insists that someone like you could never love someone like him, there’s the gentle light of hope that you’ve helped rekindle, nudging him toward something that will surely only end up hurting him, and most importantly, hurting you.

he brings with him pain and ghosts and you are so undeserving of it.

so no, he decides. you cannot possibly love him.

but the look on your face flashes in front of his eyes, and he realizes that the circumstance of you actually loving him back might be more dangerous than the lie of it. 

he needs to protect you—from him, from everything that haunts him—he loves you too much to let you fall into the fire that is him.

he did the right thing by rejecting you, yet the guilt continues to gnaw at him, the tears that wouldn’t stop sliding down your cheeks carrying something worse than what he expected. you’re what he has always wanted and he pushed you away, and as much as that is what he needed to do for you, he’s selfish in wanting you still. in any way.

he opens his eyes again with a sad little gasp, surprised at the chill that hits his face wet with tears he wasn’t aware of. he catches a glimpse of himself in his broken mirror, and he’s never hated the sight more, the words he spat at you tattooed on his skin in dark ink.

he shakes his head, standing from his bed to apologize until he can’t anymore and plead that you stay in his life.

he runs a hand over his face as he walks out of his room, clenching his jaw when he catches sight of the door he slammed now slightly open. he knocks softly, forcing his eyes to the ground when the door opens further.

“y/n?” he calls out hesitantly when there’s no response, finally looking up to an empty room. his brows furrow. something is wrong.

you never leave your room if you’re upset; it’s always either his room or yours, because your bed is here and everyone else is outside.

he opens the door fully when he spots your phone on your bed where he last saw it. in fact, everything is as he last saw it.

he knows he has no right after what he said to you, but his bad feeling won’t allow him to leave without knowing where you are.

“friday, where’s y/n?” he asks.

“miss l/n left her room three hours ago,” the ai responds curtly. and he swears it sounds colder than the last time he talked to her.

“three hours?” bucky repeats. friday confirms, and bucky shakes his head. “no… she wouldn’t leave her phone. where did she go? has she come back?”

“miss y/n left the building, and without her phone, i cannot track her.”

“you have to be able to do something,” bucky insists. “she’s a part of the team.”

“i am unable to do anything further without mister stark’s permission,” friday informs.

bucky’s fingers reach up to tangle in his hair, tugging in frustration as panic begins to brew. alarm bells are going off in his head and an anvil sits on his chest.

“well, get his permission,” bucky orders, but friday’s voice comes back as calm as ever as she rebuts him. he doesn’t care to stick around for the end of her sentence, taking off toward the door to head to tony.

he’s eating a granola bar with natasha and steve in a conference room when he finds him, features scrunching when bucky tells him to order his ai to track you.

“no,” he replies incredulously. “shouldn’t you know either way? you’re always attached at the hip,” he points out. bucky’s jaw clenches, mind running in every possible direction. natasha offers a scrutinizing glance, eyebrows joining. “actually, building on that—” tony starts. “wouldn’t blame her if she needed a little break.” he points the granola at bucky, but he isn’t fazed.

“something is wrong,” he says, as calm as he can muster. “friday says she hasn’t been in her room for three hours and she left her phone there.”

“so? she could’ve forgotten. maybe she left with wanda or bruce or someone. unlike you, she has more than one friend.”

“not today. not right now,” bucky snaps. “tony,” he pleads now, meeting steve’s eye. “something is wrong.”

tony’s features set as he scans bucky’s face, and suddenly something clicks, his head cocking to the side dangerously.

“what happened?” steve asks worriedly as tony finally reaches for his tablet.

“we had a fight. she wouldn’t leave for so long—without her phone, without telling anyone.”

tony listens along as he looks at the screen, typing things into the keyboard. “friday, get me all footage of y/n in the last three hours.”

“what did you do?” natasha cuts in, her words sharp as if she knew exactly what he’d said to you.

“it doesn’t matter right now,” bucky mumbles, his gaze glued to the screen. the screen showcases the hallway outside yours and bucky’s rooms, and he tenses as he watches the footage of you poking your head out from your door, greeting him with a smile.

“fast forward,” tony tells friday. bucky hoods his eyes when it lands on another screen, where he can catch his own muffled words, knowing what’s coming.

"what the hell is wrong with you?" he flinches at his own words, hating the sight of the shine of the tears streaking down your cheeks when he closes his eyes. he can feel natasha’s glare. more of his voice comes from the creaked door, your own clothed in tears.

"i don't want you." bucky squeezes his eyes shut. "stop fuckin’ crying and leave me alone." hearing the words in his voice hurts impossibly more than he thought it would. they’re sharper, more convincing than he thought, and the things he tried to comfort himself with fade away with the slam of the door after he walks out, the only sound remaining your cries.

“what the hell is wrong with you?” natasha echoes, her words echoing his from the video. “i’m going to murder you.”

“where did she go after that?” bucky ignores her. “i just need to know she’s okay.”

“you don’t deserve to know anything about her—” natasha hisses, beginning to stand from her chair, but steve sets a hand on her shoulder, directing her burning glare to the screen, where you leave your room, sniffling. the video switches to the feed inside the elevator, where buck can’t tear his eyes off of you as you sob, a hand desperately trying to wipe away your tears.

tony’s turned to bucky now, too.

bucky follows your figure when you leave the elevator and then the building, and friday fast-fowards through video feed from various different cameras until one finally slows, and you’re suddenly pulled into an alley. the angle is awful, but there’s just enough light to catch the light reflecting off your terrified face as three men push you against a wall.

the one not touching you catches sight of the camera, pulling a gun from his coat to point and shoot. the video crackles to static.

“no, no, no…” bucky mumbles, hands reaching up to his hair, beginning to tug. the clip replays, pausing on a close up of your face, cheek pressed against the wall with a force that must be painful, eyebrows joined and eyes widened in fear.

tony sets down his tablet with a quiet thump, rubbing the bridge of his nose, mulling over what he had just seen. natasha is still for only a few seconds before she’s into action, reaching for the tablet and beginning to mutter orders to friday. there’s an imperceptible shake of her hands as she allows a glance up to your face again.

“this is my fault,” bucky mumbles angrily. “fuck me. fuck me.”

“yes, fuck you,” natasha agrees, coolly and to the point, not once sparing him a look. “fuck you for saying that to her and for making her cry but mostly fuck you for not doing everything you fucking can to find her right now. fix your fucking mistake and get to work, barnes.”

he squeezes his fist, tugging on the bracelet you’d made and lovingly tied around his wrist. the emotion that had kissed his face pink and tugged his features in guilt disappears within a second, wiped clean enough for the memory of it to be hazy even if it was so fresh. he sniffs, nods curtly, and steps out of the conference room, entirely business even as he drowns in what you’ve always encouraged him to pour out to you.

“i’m gonna check the place we last had eyes on her,” he informs briefly, hearing no audible response from the distracted avengers inside the conference room.

he doesn’t let his guilt tinge his vision as he examines your blood on the wall, too terrified to let himself mess up at your expense again.

-

you gasp in air as soon as the wet towel someone had thrown over your face before dumping water on your head is removed, whimpers sewn in between desperate panting. your lashes are wet and hairs stick to your forehead, fat droplets of water running down your chin.

unforgiving fingers clasp your chin, cruelly tilting your face up to meet unfamiliar eyes. you squint against the light, wanting nothing more than to close your eyes and pretend that there is no man scanning your face hungrily, sinister amusement crinkling his eyes, contempt puckering his lips.

“such a pretty thing,” he drawls, a finger pressing into your skin. “i don’t think your avengers would be too happy to lose something as pretty as you,” he mocks.

“i’m not gonna tell you anything,” you croak.

the playfulness in his features disappears then, and his bruising grip disappears into a resounding slap.

you can’t help the gasp that parts your lips and stings your eyes, whimpers slipping past your throat when he grabs you again, pulling your face close to his.

“listen to me, little girl,” he growls. “either you tell me and i let you live or your stupid little soldier comes and i take my time killing him until you cough it up. then i kill you.”

you scan his face, swallowing hard. “you mean bucky? he’s not gonna come for me.”

“he will. and when he does, i’ll enjoy making him pay for betraying hydra. maybe i’ll have a little walk down memory lane. the doc left great notes on the winter soldier.”

you scoff, pushing past the fear although your trembling is undeniable. “didn’t you do your homework? bucky doesn’t give a shit about me. you really think he’d risk his life—his freedom for someone he doesn’t even like? you kidnapped the wrong person if what you want is bucky.” the thought is bitter enough to comfort you, the reassurance that bucky will be fine sweet enough to combat the acridity of his resent for you.

the man’s lip twitches, his eyes boring into yours as they try to find if you’re being honest. he shoves your face back, and you slam into the chair with a shuddering breath, the phantom of his grip still heavy on your skin.

he sniffs and gestures vaguely. “let’s give her the winter soldier treatment.”

your heart drops, memories of what bucky’s told you displayed across your mind until they blackout your mind completely, and the only thing left is a promise.

you are going to die today.

-

bucky feels blurry, as if he’s flickering in and out of awareness in his frantic panic. the words he says are cut and dry, carrying only information because it is the only thing he has the strength for—but it feels rehearsed, scripted.

he wishes it were. he aches for this not to be real, and what he would offer a god he doesn’t believe in for you is heavy on his mind, pleading so desperately that he begins to eye the tower, the team, and selfishly offer it all up for you.

his anger shoves him down on a chair, but his desperation is frenetic in its reminders that any second not searching for you is a second longer that you will be out of his grasp and in the thorns of someone else’s. the handles of the chair groan underneath the pressure of his fingers, wrapping around the metal in their attempts to clutch something tangible, something real and not the idea of where you are, or the leads that only end in strangled cries, the numbers that float by on the screen in front of tony. 

his arm sits heavy by his side, tapping the table curtly so as to have something to do, although bucky has never hated it more—to have something so sought after, stained with blood and tears and pain and bitter triumphs, yet be so incredibly useless when it counts.

he doesn’t want to ask what he can do because he should know. he got you into this mess and he should know how to get you out, but he’s flailing, his fingers only grazing the edges of everything he’s already done. he knows what it means and he wants to scream at the universe for it.

there’s a thin beep that echoes in the conference room, muting steve’s mumbled plans and bucky’s silent examination of any files he can get his hands on, although his eyes kept drifting to the grainy picture of you pressed up against the wall.

tony freezes, the pen in his mouth dropping as he stares at his tablet.

“what?” natasha demands, looking away from her work to catch sight of tony, all color drained from his face.

he sucks in a breath and taps at the screen. “friday, search for any identifying features, scan every pixel, do you understand?”

the large monitor in front of the table darkens for a second before a video begins to play, and it doesn’t take long for the team to figure out what’s going on. bucky’s heart drops to his stomach as he rises from his chair, breathing heavily. “no,” he murmurs, terrified. his worst fears come into fruition as he stares at your unmoving figure tied up in a chair, the shaky camera only allowing him view to the worst of your injuries—already darkened bruises littering your skin, smudged red on your face.

a different face overtakes the picture, dark eyes lit with amusement and crinkled by a smile. “a pretty thing, isn’t she?” he croaks, moving the camera back to you. he moves closer, and bucky feels bile rise up his throat.

natasha presses her eyes shut when the camera pans straight over your face, where bucky can see cuts and the indentations of fingers and hands. your eyes are shut, and you remain unmoving even when gloved fingers wrap around your chin tightly, tipping your head back.

bucky nearly follows her lead.

and then you groan. your eyes flutter open, but they only allow bucky to see the insipid acceptance that laces your irises, coated by fear.

“she’s holdin’ up better than we thought,” his tone is impressed, but as silence drags on, he becomes angrier, his hold on your jaw digging deeper until you wince and move back, but he doesn’t let you. “‘but she won’t for long.”

the camera flips back to him. “hey, winter. if you think you had it bad, it won’t be nothin’ compared to this. promise.”

the camera moves around, catching the ceiling and other frames while he seems to look for something. he hums in delight when he finds it, and excitedly waves a sharp blade in front of the camera. “she swears winter won’t come for her,” he starts, lips contorting in disappointment. the camera slips again to capture the blade against your skin. “but i kinda hope he does. for her sake. such a pretty thing… “

the conference room darkens, the video’s end calling for an entirely new wave of terror.

“we have his face,” natasha pipes up, weakly.

“‘lotta good that’s done us,” tony argues.

“we know she's alive. we have an image of where she is,” natasha snaps, stepping toward him. “and if you were as good as you say you are, his face would be all we needed.”

tony’s about to reply when friday cuts in, bringing up the frames of the video where the man was distracted. “mister stark, i have a location.”

the argument forgotten, natasha and tony snap to the screen. bucky stands, stepping toward them to see the blinking dot indicating your whereabouts. once his eyes have memorized the street names, he’s out the door and headed for his bike, the rest of the group not far behind. a plan is forming behind him, and he manages to catch the bones of it, his role outlined with enough trust for him to not question it.

the rumble of his bike underneath him allows him an anchor to reality, where he’s threatened to float away otherwise.

“i’m coming,” he whispers, speeding up as he remembers your desolate eyes and broken skin.  “just hold on, sweetheart. i’m on my way.”

-

there’s a pout on your kidnapper’s lips as he observes you, looking back to his wrist to tap his watch. judging by the ticks, it’s been too long since he’s sent the video. his jaw is tense, probably nearing realization that you were right. the thought is as satisfying as it is heartbreaking.

“i told you. you can’t get what you want from me,” you rasp.

the man scowls, nostrils flaring. his patience is thin and his anger raw, awakened with the gentle nudge of your words. he comes close enough for you to feel his breath on your face, and his fingers are around your neck when you close your eyes, unwilling to continue looking into his.

“i better,” he threatens. “that’s the only thing keeping me from screwing your mind up so bad you’ll be better off dead.”

you swallow hard, your consciousness vignetting as oxygen continues to escape you. you nearly wish it did so faster, but your torturer is too cruel for even that, releasing you as you begin to go limp.

you choke in air and cough, your tongue catching iron from the split in your lip.

he hums as he takes you in. “you’re like him. at least like how zola wrote about him,” he states, cocking his head at you.

“what?” you cough.

“the winter soldier. before he became useful,” he explains thoughtfully, eyeing you. he wipes away the blood from your cupid’s bow with a thumb. “if he won’t come, maybe we’ll make a new one.”

your blood is ice in your veins as you absorb what he’s implying. his touch is tender, careful on your skin. you flinch.

“imagine that. the wit of iron man and looks of the black widow. the ability of the winter soldier, but… no connections. no one to save the soldier this time.” his voice is dreamy, excited. “we’ll break you even worse. we’ll make you kill them all.”

“no,” you whimper, straining against your restraints. “no, please. just kill me, please.”

“i think he begged like that, too,” he muses.

-

bucky is tinged with the soldier.

he darkens his thoughts until they become locked memories with only bodies and guilt as remnants. but now, it’s bucky who pulls the trigger, who finds himself too bitter to pull punches.

he's left the guards to the rest of the group to move forward faster, sticking by natasha.

there’s a room at the end of the building, and he takes off at the same time nat does. she turns to him when they slow, catching the voice from the video. “you’re not going in there,” she tells him, pulling a gun from her belt.

“of course i am,” bucky argues, readying himself to kick the door in.

“this is your fault. you don’t deserve to feel like the hero, barnes.”

“this isn’t that,” bucky insists. “i need to feel that she’s okay.”

natasha settles an unsure glance his way, but the conversation is over, drowned by the dust that follows bucky’s easy entrance.

your kidnapper wears a coy grin, stepping in front of you, yet bucky’s zeroed in on you and the tears that streak across dried vermillion and dark purples. “winter,” he begins. “i’m so glad you—”

bucky takes off toward you while natasha ends the speech before it can start with a clean shot, watching as the man drops to the floor. she’s a quick step toward you before she stops, noting the anguish with which bucky spills over.

you're alive is all she needs to know, and she gets in a few more shots at the man who did this to you as bucky rushes to you.

his name falls from your lips in a small croak, coated in disbelief, obvious you had succumbed to the fear, slipped into the exhaustion and dreadful acceptance. but the torment displayed on bucky’s face is unlike you have ever seen before—crumpled far beyond what your mind could make up, and you allow yourself to fall into the hope you couldn’t help but hold onto, completely uncaring if this isn’t real because it’s so much better than what you will surely open your eyes to otherwise.

he is at your side immediately, face falling as he catches sight of the bruises that coat your skin. he crouches to you, undoing your restraints with ease. his strength makes you flinch, even though it’s not toward you, and he pauses when he notices, something you don’t recognize glossing over his face before he continues, attempting to be calmer.

you can’t stop looking at him, your eyes crazed as they scan the reality of him. you repeat his name softly, a beg of are you real? in the way you stare.

“i’m here,” he promises, a hesitant hand reaching out to you. the warmth of it as it comes in contact with your cheek is as safe as you remember his touch, and you lean into it, letting out a stifled sob of relief.

“you came,” you cry, throwing yourself against him. his arms wrap around you securely, pulling as close as he can with as much delicacy he can muster in his desperation. “i thought you weren’t gonna come,” you sob, grasping his shirt as tight as you can.

“‘m always gonna come,” he tells you, tightening his grip on you.

“you were mad. i thought you didn’t care. i thought—” your words cut off as you push your face into the crook of his neck. “you came for me.”

“i’m sorry,” he mumbles. “i’m so sorry, sweetheart. i love you so much, i shouldn’t have yelled—i shouldn’t have said any of that. i love you and i’m sorry i made you feel like that. i’m so sorry. i just need you to be safe. you’re safe now, i swear.”

you can only shut your eyes, unable to absorb his words in the relief that he’s here, real and solid and saving you like he always does. he mumbles his apologies as he gently hoists you into his arms and carries you out of the dreaded room, repeatedly pressing kisses into your hair between strings of i love yous and i’m sorrys.

right now, it’s enough that he’s in between your fingers, warm underneath your skin, his promises sweet against your neck. right now, the safety of him is enough.

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes ff #bucky barnes x reader fluff #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes imagine fluff #bucky barnes imagine angst #bucky barnes imagine kidnap #bucky barnes fanfiction fluff #bucky barnes fanfic fluff #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes fanfic angst #bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes x reader idiots in love #bucky barnes x reader mutual pining #bucky barnes x reader angst #bucky barnes fic angst #bucky barnes x reader kidnapping #bucky barnes reader insert

[horanghaejamjam]

Candlelight Dances - {XMH}

↪   Summary: It was a relationship that was destined to fail. He couldn’t betray his family and you were set to marry his brother. Despite this, fate had odd ways of working and you found yourself willing to do anything to be with Minghao, even if only for a night.

↪ Pairings: Vampire Prince Minghao x Reader

↪   Rating: M 18+

↪   Genre: Vampire Au / Forbidden Lovers / Smut / Fluff / Slight Angst

↪   Word Count: 18.1k

↪ Warnings/Contents: While the reader uses gender neutral terms, it is implied that they wear dresses and appear feminine. Vampire themes including biting, and blood drinking, Forbidden relationship, Mentions of arranged/forced marriage. Smut (minors dni), Unprotected sex, Switch!Hao and Switch!Reader (Mainly dom Hao), Semi public sex, Teasing with a paintbrush, Slight Primal/Prey aspects, Pet Names (Dove, Angel, Darling), Use of clothing as restraint, Nipple play, Oral (male receiving)

↪ Side Notes: If you saw this story before it is a repost! Tumblr ran into an issue with the other one and half of it basically disappeared so I had to repost it. Sorry for the spam y'all istg tumblr hates me.

This is a spinoff of my story Vampire Kisses with slight changes. While this can be read as a standalone there are some references to the other story. Also huge shoutout to the wonderful @xiubaek-13 for once again agreeing to beta read for me. I appreciate your input so much my dear.

This is also officially the longest story I've ever written. Words cannot describe my love for Minghao

↪ Click here to see my other Seventeen stories

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When you were younger, you never believed in the thought of love at first sight. You heard stories from friends and family, but you never believed that it could truly happen. Afterall, love was a very strong emotion, and you felt there was no way anyone could feel that without truly knowing who someone was. That value stuck with you into adulthood, and even more so when you found out about your arranged marriage. You were set to be wed to the first heir of a very influential vampire politician, a requirement by law to keep things balanced between humans and vampires. You had agreed, knowing your family would benefit from the union greatly, but it didn’t mean you were actually happy about it. You were doing this strictly for business, agreeing to marry a man you had never even seen before. How were you supposed to feel anything towards someone you knew nothing about? Little did you know that you would start questioning yourself the moment you moved into the Wen family manor. Before you knew it, you were falling head over heels, not for your fiancé, but for his younger brother. 

The moment you first met Minghao was vividly engraved in your mind, replaying like a movie scene on rewind. You had just begun to settle in and get used to the family when he and his brother, Junhui, had returned from a business matter. Minghao was, without a doubt, the most gorgeous being you had ever laid eyes on. From his long black hair that was tied back to show his sharp yet dark eyes, to his tall and slender figure dressed elegantly in a floor length coat. Even with the majority of his body hidden, you could already tell the rest of him was just as delicate and precise as his facial features. It gave him a mysterious aura which, combined with the confidence that radiated off his being, would normally intimidate you. In this case, however, it made him all the more alluring and you swore you felt your heart stop when he smiled kindly in your direction. You knew you were supposed to pay attention to Jun at that moment, but you couldn’t help your eyes from wandering back over to Minghao. 

From that moment forward, you found yourself seeking out the younger vampire's company whenever you could. At first it was just brief conversations in the hallway, then it was going for walks around the manor, until finally you found yourself sneaking out before the sun even went down to see him in his study. You learned a lot about him in that short amount of time, and by now you knew his schedule like the back of your hand. As the second son of the Wen family, he didn’t have as many obligations as his brother did. Most of his endeavors required assisting his family in diplomatic matters with a few side tasks here and there. When those were done, he preferred to spend his time working alone in his private study. He was usually up long before the rest of his family, already staining his clothes with paint before the sun even began to set. When you questioned him about it he simply said the daylight wasn’t a concern for him and he preferred the silence that daylight offered. He was always a man of few words so he didn’t really explain much more than that despite your curiosity. You decided not to question his strange schedule too much since it allowed you to spend more time with him without his family stealing your attention. 

You learned very quickly that Minghao had quite the eye for art and fashion, and he was extremely talented with a paintbrush. There were many nights where you found yourself curled up on the armchair he kept in the corner, watching quietly while he worked on his latest masterpiece. Occasionally he would glance back at you or ask your opinion of his work, but most of the time the two of you remained in comfortable silence until he decided to call it a night. Other nights you two would sit together and share a drink, simply talking about whatever came to mind at that moment. Minghao definitely enjoyed your presence, and you found yourself seeking his the longer you stayed with him. 

If anyone asked, you would lie and say that Minghao was helping you with your anxiety about the upcoming wedding. Not exactly a lie, but not quite the truth either. While his presence did relieve your worries, you also found that your heart beat for him in a way it never would for Jun. You wanted to be close to him, to talk with him, hear his voice, touch him, and be with him any chance you could. You couldn’t ignore the way his touch lingered on your skin, or the way his voice soothed you like a soft lullaby you would never tire of hearing. The way you could stare at him for hours, saying nothing but feeling that his presence said enough. There was still so much to learn about him, and yet you felt like you had known him for years. Your own personal mystery that you could unravel at your own pace if only you had the freedom to do so. Every time you were together, it was your own little paradise, and one you dreaded leaving every time the sun threatened to peek through his curtains. It was wrong, and you knew it, but sooner or later you would need to face the obvious truth: you were madly in love with Minghao. 

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“I had a feeling that I would find you here,” your head shot up from its spot between your knees to see the man that was currently occupying your thoughts. Minghao stood a few feet away from you, his familiar black coat flowing slightly in the breeze. He was standing under one of the many trees that lined the manors garden, the leaves shielding him from the few sun rays that started to peek over the horizon. You had been sitting tucked away behind the fountain, back pressed against the cool marble as you waited for the sun to rise, assuming that no one would follow you out. It seems you underestimated the youngest vampire though, since he was now staring down at you from his spot leaning against the tree, expression blank and his arms crossed over his chest. 

“What are you doing out here?” you asked as you scrambled to sit up, “the sun…”

“The sun is about to rise I know,” Minghao cut you off, “don’t worry I don’t plan on being out here long.” He picked himself up and walked over to where you were sitting, running a gloved hand through the water rushing out of the fountain before taking a seat beside you. “You startled everyone by running out earlier you know, I was going to wait for you to come back but after a while I got worried.”

“I’m sorry for running out like that, I didn't mean to scare you,” you muttered, “I guess I just got overwhelmed with all the sudden wedding planning.” The planning you were referring to being dress fitting and decorating that had been forced onto you when Jun got too busy. Minghao had volunteered to help you out given how much you two had bonded over design. It had seemed like a good idea at first, but you quickly became frustrated with the constant back and forth. That, combined with your mixed feelings for Minghao and the fact that he was helping prepare you to marry his brother created too much tension and before you knew it, you were rushing out the door and finding refuge in the garden. 

“That’s probably my fault,” Minghao sighed, resting a hand on your shoulder, “I was the one who got a bit too invested.” The leather of his glove felt much too thick against you, almost like a cruel reminder of the distance between you. You knew it was your own fault for falling in love with him when you were engaged to his brother, but if anything that made it harder on you. You were falling victim to your own feelings and there was nothing you can do about it.

“It’s not your fault,” you groaned, “it’s mine.” Minghao didn’t respond but the tightening grip on your shoulder let you know that he was listening. “This whole wedding has been really hard for me and I guess my emotions just got the best of me and I got overwhelmed,” you explained. Minghao hummed softly before pulling his hand away and sitting a bit straighter, the light splash from the fountain becoming a bit much for him to handle as you watched him wipe the back of his neck. You felt the soft mist as well, but if anything it was a welcome sensation that helped to calm your nerves. 

“Still I’m sure my pestering didn’t help so for that I apologize. I know this can’t be easy on you and it’s a lot to get used to, I just wanted to try and make it a bit easier.” You quickly shook your head at his apology. 

“Hao stop, nothing anyone does will make this easy on me.” You flinched as your words came out harsher than you intended, but if Minghao noticed he didn’t comment on it. 

“Why is that do you think?” he asked, causing you to sigh. You couldn’t tell if he genuinely had no idea how you felt or if he did and just didn’t want to admit it. 

“It’s complicated,” you muttered, “even if I wanted to tell you I probably couldn’t.” This time your words seemed to affect Minghao as you watched him frown slightly. He turned his head away and opened his mouth as if to say something but you cut him off. 

“It’s getting pretty bright out you know, aren’t you worried about the sun?” You looked up at the sky to see it was much lighter than before. Minghao mirrored your actions with a hand shielding his eyes, only to shrug slightly. 

“It’s not too bright out yet, I’ll be fine. I’m not as sensitive to the sun as my brother, remember?” he reminded. 

“I thought you just meant you preferred the brightness,” you confessed, “you never really explained that.” 

“What fun is it if I tell you everything right away?” Minghao teased, only to stiffen up a bit when you frowned at him, “But if you really want to know I am a halfblood vampire. Unlike my brother who was born a vampire, I was born a human and turned into a vampire when I got older. My body is still semi human because of this so I am not as sensitive to things like the sun. It will still hurt but nothing I can’t manage.” You were a bit caught off guard by his sudden honesty, but figured it was better to take advantage of it rather than question him. 

“I didn’t realize halfbloods were a thing, I thought you all were the same,” you confessed, “so does that technically make you, you know?”

“Adopted?” Minghao asked with a slight giggle, “You don’t have to be shy, I won't bite, but yes I am. My birth parents were humans who worked at the manor, and my current family took me in after they passed away.” 

“I’m sorry to hear that,” you sympathized. 

“Don’t be. That was many years ago and I barely remember them, these guys have always felt more like my family and I would do anything for them.”

“I guess in that way we are the same,” you mused, “I mean I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for my family.” Minghao sighed beside you, running a hand through his hair. 

“I know this situation isn’t the most ideal for you, but I encourage you to at least open up a bit. You are already part of the family to us, you just need to see that.” Minghao’s words echoed through your mind almost teasingly, a painful reminder of the situation you dragged yourself into. Family, that is all Minghao would ever see you as, his family. The woman who would soon marry his brother and be his sister, when you couldn’t help but wish he was the one you were marrying. You wanted nothing more than to confess that to him, have it where the wedding dress he was designing was for him and not for Jun, but you knew that couldn’t happen. You had made an agreement and you knew the political importance of your wedding. Jun was the heir of the Wen family and was required to marry a born human to keep a power balance between humans and vampires. You probably weren’t the first choice, but you were a young woman with no current political ties so to the Wens you were the perfect candidate. Minghao may still have the status of being related to the Wen family, but in terms of power he was still the bottom of the totem pole. It was something he seemed to enjoy since he had more freedom, but you couldn't help but wonder what would be different if you were allowed to choose which brother you would marry. 

“Can I ask you something?” hearing Minghao hum in reply you moved to face him properly, “You’re the second in command when Jun takes over right? So does that mean you’ll be in an arranged marriage as well?” His eyes widened slightly as your question caught him off guard, but that expression quickly changed into a smirk. 

“Why would you want to know something like that?” he teased, giggling slightly as you stuttered to try to come up with an explanation, “I’m just teasing Y/N relax. The marriage rule only applies to the head of the family. Honestly the rule doesn’t make much sense to me personally but it’s just how things run around here.”

“So it doesn’t apply to you then?” you clarify.

“No it doesn’t, I have no plans of taking over the family so I can marry whoever I want.” He locks eyes with you when he says that and you could have sworn you felt his demeanor change before he was clearing his throat and standing up. “I’d love to stay and talk more but I would prefer not to stay in the heat,” he explained. Most of his body was covered in his usual black attire, but you could see his cheeks and neck turning more red than normal. You quickly realized that the sun had fully emerged while you were talking and was probably taking its toll on the young vampire. 

“Sorry I shouldn’t have kept you outside so long,” you quickly apologized. 

“Don’t be, it was my decision to come after you,” Minghao assured, reaching out to pat your head softly, “I just don’t like the heat, and besides I do have a few things to finish before bed so I should really get back to work. I will see you later tonight Y/N,” and with that he was walking back to the manor, leaving you standing alone in the garden. You half debated running after him but decided against it, sitting back against the fountain and taking advantage of the daylight to be alone with your thoughts. 

You stayed out in the garden for what you assumed was a few more hours before eventually retiring back to your room. Closing and locking the door behind you, you quickly washed yourself off and got changed into more comfortable clothes before crawling into bed. You were actively trying to adjust to the nocturnal life living with vampires, and to do so you were taking more naps during the day. At first the sunlight had made it impossible to fall asleep, but eventually you got used to it with the help of blackout curtains that you often kept closed. With the comfortable darkness surrounding you, it didn’t take long for you to fall asleep, the conversation with Minghao still running through your mind. 

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You woke up a few hours later to a soft knocking at your door. Groaning softly, you sat up and rubbed at your eyes before carefully slipping out of bed and walking over to the door. To say you were shocked to see Minghao standing at the door was an understatement. His coat had been discarded, exposing a white button up that he had partly undone and the sleeves rolled up to expose his arms. His hair was tied back as usual and his hands were covered in various colors of paint, letting you know that he’d probably been working this whole time. You couldn’t deny how attractive he looked like this, managing to look elegant even when he was supposed to be a mess. Meanwhile you literally had just rolled out of bed and probably looked like that, making you want to shy away from the young vampire's gaze. 

“Sorry did I wake you?” he asked, taking in your appearance. 

“Not at all,” you lied with a soft yawn, “I’m honestly surprised that you’re not asleep at this time though.”

“I got carried away with my work,” he admitted with a shy smile. You mirrored said smile as you saw him rub at the back of his neck, some of the still drying paint on his skin rubbing off onto his collar. This was a side of Minghao you didn’t get to see very often and it was honestly adorable. 

“I can see that,” you teased, making him giggle, “and I’m guessing that you’re not here to take a break?”

“You know me too well, I just wanted to show you something real quick if you are not too busy?” Minghao offered. Truth be told you were still exhausted from being suddenly woken up, but you weren’t about to turn him down, not when your time together had been cut short recently. 

“Not at all, just give me a second to get changed,” you said, already starting to close the door to your room when he stops you. 

“Don’t worry we won’t take too long so you can go back to sleep right after,” he assured, taking another moment to glance over you, “besides, the outfit really suits you.” You couldn’t tell if he was joking or not, but you still felt your cheeks heat up at the comment. Minghao noticed and laughed again, making you playfully slap at him. 

“Stop teasing me!” you whined. 

“I’m not, I swear!” he mused with another laugh. 

“Like hell you’re not!” you exclaimed with another hit at him. Minghao stepped back this time and grabbed your wrist before you could touch him. 

“Alright alright I’m sorry, but seriously are you coming with me or no?” He was still holding onto your wrist, gently tugging you away from the door and out into the hall before you even agreed. You gave in almost immediately, letting him tug you out fully before closing the door behind you. 

“Yes I’m coming, lead the way.” You agreed. Minghao hummed softly and dragged you down the hall and into the library before finally letting go of your wrist. You briefly mourned the loss of his touch but continued to follow him through the many bookshelves until you made it to a familiar door hidden in the corner of the room. The wooden frame was darker than the others and carved with an intricate design of leaves and vines meeting a blooming flower at the very top. The design was carved by Minghao himself, as was his name that was carved and painted perfectly in the middle of the door. Behind the door was Minghaos personal study/studio and the one place in the house he spent a majority of his time in. 

The interior was just as beautiful as the exterior, with the same high walls and pristine wooden floors as the rest of the library, save for the fur rug that lay in the middle of the floor. The room was often dark as Minghao preferred working in natural light provided by the glass doors that led out to a mini covered area of the garden. During the night the doors were often open to let the breeze and moonlight in, but right now they were closed and covered by dark red curtains to keep the light out. The only other light was provided by a mini lamp that rested on his desk in the middle of the room. The only other furniture aside from his desk and chair was the leather armchair that was tucked into the corner right behind it. Normally that chair was covered in various art supplies or clothing articles he was working on, but since you started spending more time with him that space was now left open for you. His art supplies had a new home in an organized pile by the double doors or on his desk, save for the canvas he had currently displayed in the middle of the room. You walked into the room before Minghao and made your way over to the canvas, which is what you assumed Minghao wanted to show you. 

The painting was clearly in the early stages, mostly just a blend of color and shapes at the moment. However, you could clearly make out the outline of what you assumed would be a couple. The male figure was just a pencil outline at the moment but the female was more defined. You could make out the black paint strokes as part of a dress and even if it wasn’t anywhere near completion yet you could easily tell the detail going into it. 

“I know it isn’t much right now,” Minghao’s voice snapped your attention away from the painting. He had walked over to his desk, leaning against the wood as he looked over your shoulder at his work. “This isn’t my normal style but I’ve been really inspired recently and figured I would try my hand at something new,” he explained. 

“It looks great so far, especially for a new style,” you complimented, “though I’m curious what inspired you to make something like this?” Minghao chuckled softly and you looked over just in time to see him shake his head. 

“That’s a secret for me to know and you to find out later, I’ll tell you when I’m finished but right now I just wanted your input on it.” He explained. You wanted to groan at him still being secretive but you knew there was no point in arguing with him. 

“You really are a mystery, you know that?” you mused, making him laugh again. 

“You wouldn’t be the only one to say that,” he commented. 

“Seriously though, do you ever get tired of being so secretive?" you asked. 

“Not really, it’s just who I am,” he replied, “I’m so used to keeping things to myself, when you see and experience the things I have, it becomes hard to trust other people. You are kind of the odd one out of that equation, that’s why I wanted to show you this first.” You nodded, still not getting the idea of why he wanted to show you this, but realizing it must be important to him.

“You don’t have to show me anything though,” you mumbled, following his movement with your eyes as he moved over to the opposite side of his desk, looking through one of the drawers. 

“I want to,” he whispered to himself. He grabbed a pencil and made his way back to the canvas in the center of the room, starting to sketch a few lines into it. His back was covering the piece and you weren’t able to see it, causing you to move closer so you could peek around his frame. You watched for a moment as he tried sketching a few more details on the female's face before giving up and quickly erasing them, careful not to touch the paint. “I have a vision in my head but haven’t been able to properly portray it on paper,” he explained. “This piece is a present for someone so I want it to be perfect.”

“A present?” you echoed, “for who?”

“Someone very important to me, I can’t reveal who they are at this time but just know this needs to be perfect.”

“I see,” you muttered quietly, crossing your arms over your chest, “so that’s why you’ve been so secretive lately.”

“Yes and no,” Minghao muttered, not taking his eyes off of his sketch, “normally I don’t let people see my personal work but you are a bit of an exception, I figured you could help me.”

“Why me though?”

“You ask a lot of questions, you know that?” he responded to your question with one of his own, “because you’re the one person I can trust. This kind of stuff makes me really nervous, you know.”

“Nervous?”  you question, poking lightly at his shoulder, “that’s pretty honest for someone who's so mysterious,” you teased. He didn’t look at you but you could hear him try to suppress a soft giggle. 

“I’m not trying to be mysterious,” he confessed, “I just haven’t had the time to properly adjust and be myself with the new environment.”

“Well, you’re still young,” you recalled, “especially for a vampire if I remember correctly."

“Exactly, the transition isn’t exactly the easiest process to go through,” he lamented, “I know it was in my best interest but that doesn’t make losing your humanity any easier.” You were silent for a moment, this is the most open he’s ever been with you since you first moved here, and you weren’t even sure if he realized that. Still you wanted to take advantage of this honest side of Minghao, desperate to finally learn more about him. 

“Well there’s nothing wrong with being a bit reclusive. It’s a really powerful trait you know.” you smiled, watching him try to sketch out another piece of the canvas.

“I think I just want people to understand that there’s more to me than they think.” Minghao said, gripping his pencil tightly.

“Like what?” you urged, he opened his mouth to say something before quickly closing it. You sighed at the realization you weren’t going to get a genuine answer to that question, “nevermind don’t worry about it.”

“Sorry,” he apologized, “that’s something I need to keep to myself for now. You’ll know when the time is right.”

“If you say so,” you sighed, brushing a strand of your hair behind your ear.

“Anyways,” Minghao quickly changed the subject, returning your attention to his work, “you never did tell me what you think of the current piece.” You nudged him out of the way slightly to get a better look. Your eyes trailed across the figures on the canvas, feeling an odd sense of familiarity between them but not knowing why. 

“It looks great so far, I can’t tell what you’re going for yet because it’s not drawn out but I like the detail I see.” you praised. 

“Like I said it is still a work in progress,” he reminded, “but I think I’m starting to notice my vision so thank you.”

“Really, I only said one thing?” you challenged. 

“You helped more than you know,” he said, returning to his space in front of the canvas. His hand brushed over your arm as he nudged you to the side, and you could have sworn that you felt it linger there a bit longer than normal. His feather light touch sent tingles down your spine and made you want to reach out to him, but his voice snapped you out of your thoughts. “I really should get back to work and I’m sure you want to go back to bed.” You couldn’t help but let your disappointment show, sighing softly as you nodded and pushed away from him. 

“You’re right I should go, sorry for bothering you for so long.” you muttered, staring at the ground as you began walking to the door. You had just put your hand on the doorknob when Minghao called out to you. 

“Hey Y/N?”

“Yeah?” you turned around, a bit too eagerly for your liking to see Minghao staring back at you. His bottom lip was trapped between his teeth and he looked almost nervous, refusing to meet your gaze. 

“I- you know what nevermind it’s not important, have a good rest.” Just as quickly as he called out for you he was turned back to his work, sketching at the page with a newfound determination. You slumped down a bit, but decided to leave him be, quietly slipping out of the office and leaning against the door once it closed. 

“Minghao, why do you have to be so complicated?”

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Unfortunately it seemed you wouldn’t get an answer to your question, as Minghao basically began to avoid you after that day. You weren’t invited to his office anymore, and any time you tried to speak to him he dashed away faster than you could blink. It didn’t help that the Wen family started to insist you be more involved with wedding planning, so the minimal free time you had was now spent working with Jun. You tried to be nice to him, knowing that it wasn’t his fault you were in this mess, but you couldn’t help but get frustrated. You had been so close to finally getting Minghao to open up to you, his words replaying in your mind tirelessly, only to have it ripped away from you painfully. Now you may never get another chance because you were stuck listening to his older brother whine about some decoration for the tables you couldn’t care less about. 

“Hey Y/N, are you listening?” you snapped out of your mini sulking session to see Jun staring down at you. His eyes were soft but the frown he wore told you he was worried. If there was one obvious difference you noticed between the vampire brothers, it was that Jun was a thousand times more expressive. 

“I wasn’t sorry, what did you say?” you admitted, feeling bad that you ignored him. Instead of answering you though, Jun turned to face his mother instead. 

“Would you excuse us for a moment, I think Y/N needs a second to clear their head.” You didn’t hear Mrs. Wens reply but assumed she agreed as Jun quickly took your hand and escorted you out of the dining room. 

“I’m sorry,” you apologized as he dragged you out. 

“Don’t be, I figured we could both use a break,” he assured, “come on a walk with me, there’s something I want to talk to you about.” You could feel your blood run cold when he said that, immediately assuming the worst. That he knew about you and Minghao and you were about to get in trouble, or that he would call off everything and your family would be stuck with nothing again. “Relax, it's nothing bad, I can hear your heartbeat all the way over here,” Jun teased, smiling back at you to get you to relax a little bit. It worked, if only partially and you took a deep breath as he led you down the hall and into an area of the manor you had never been before. 

“Wait where are we going?” you asked, to which he only shook his head. 

“Patience little one, you’ll see in a second.” The two of you continued walking for a moment before stopping at a large set of double doors. Opening them revealed a large, mainly empty ballroom. The floors seemed newly polished and the only furniture visible was the grand piano that rested elegantly in the corner. The rest of the room was open, clearly giving the space for people to dance and mingle. The room was lined with multiple floor length windows, the curtains currently pulled back to allow moonlight to flood through. The only other light source you could point out were the candle holders that also lined the walls, though they were currently empty which left the moon to light up the room. 

“Wow, I didn’t know this room existed,” you mused, stepping into the middle and twirling around so you could take in everything. 

“We usually keep this room closed off unless we need it for parties,” Jun explained as he closed the doors behind him, “however Hao and I used to come in here a lot when we were younger.” He took your curious glance as a sign to continue, walking over to where the piano was, “We both grew up in this house so as kids we loved playing in here. Then once we got older and he joined the family we would just use this space to talk or think. I even tried teaching him to play the piano once but he wasn’t a big fan.” A few skillful presses of the keys sent a beautiful melody echoing through the room, answering your unspoken question of if Jun could really play the piano. It was at this moment you realized you had never really taken interest in the heir to the Wen family, so focused on trying to keep Minghao’s attention. 

“I didn’t know you could play the piano,” you commented, making him chuckle slightly. 

“There’s a lot you don’t know about me, though I just figured you weren’t interested since you spend all your time with my brother.” Your eyes widened at his comment, quickly stuttering to try and think of an explanation, only for Jun to silence you with a wave of his hand, “relax darling I’m just messing with you. I’ve known there was something between the two of you since the first week you got here, you’re not exactly the best at sneaking around here you know. ”

“Wait, you’re not mad?” you asked in shock, making him shrug.

“Why would I be?”

“Because I’m engaged to you?” you reminded, as if there was any possibility that he had forgotten that fact. 

“True but I’m not dumb you know, I know that this marriage is only for political reasons. Now if we were marrying out of love I would have been mad but you can’t force someone to love you if they never did to begin with.” 

“Well when you put it that way it just makes me feel bad.” you whined. 

“You can’t control your feelings Y/N, if you love Minghao just tell me,” Jun pushed, “the truth is going to come out sooner or later anyways.” You wanted to deny it for the sake of keeping things civil but you knew there was no point, Jun had already seen through you. 

“Fine you caught me, I love him,” you confessed, “so what? It doesn’t change anything does it?” You could see Juns expression fall and he sighed as he took a seat on the bench in front of the piano, still facing you but with his hands propping up his head. 

“Part of me wants to say that it does but honestly I don’t know,” he confessed, “this tradition has been around ever since my family came into power. As the heir to the family I have to marry a human in order to keep things balanced and vampires are like swans, we mate for life. I don’t want to force you into a loveless marriage but I am also obligated to go through with this for the sake of my family.” He noticed the way your expression fell with each word, having to bite his tongue from saying something that may upset you more. “I’m sorry if there was a way for me to end this and let you be with him I would do it.”

“It’s not your fault,” you assured him, “if anything it’s mine for getting too close to him in the first place. Besides, even if you could put a stop to the marriage it wouldn’t change much.”

“What makes you think that?” he asked. You paused for a moment and debated answering, since they were brothers after all and you didn’t want to risk him telling Minghao how you felt. However, your thoughts have been consuming you recently and this may be the only time you would have someone to talk to about it. 

“I don’t think he feels the same way,” you confessed, “something changed recently and now he won’t even look at me, it’s like we’re complete strangers and I don’t understand why.” Jun remained silent, raising an eyebrow for you to continue, which you hesitantly did, “I thought we were getting closer. There was one night where he finally started to open up to me, talking about how hard things were and this painting he was working on. However when he went to ask me something he just kind of shut down and asked me to leave, and I haven’t heard from him since.” Jun didn’t say anything for a moment, taking the time to truly process your words. You watched his lips slowly curve up into a smile before he started laughing.

“You really are a bit naive, you know that?” he teased, cutting you off before you could ask what that was supposed to mean, “Y/N you know as well as I do that Hao is a bit of a mystery. His heart is in the right place but he doesn’t always know how to express that properly so he gets shy. You just have to be patient and slowly break down his walls, because trust me he’s the sweetest guy I know once you get through to him.”

“Well of course you’d say that, you’re his brother.” you said with a soft laugh. 

“Yes but before I was his brother I was his best friend and I’ve been in the same situation you are in currently. I want to say we were 16 or 17 when I finally got him to open up to me. Not to dissuade you though because I’m pretty sure you managed to make more progress than I have in only a few weeks.” 

“You really think that?” you asked, wanting to believe him but also still being unsure of yourself. 

“I know it,” Jun assured, standing up and making his way over to you, “look Y/N I don’t want to get your hopes up about anything because neither of us can go against our family. That being said, I think you owe it to both yourself and Hao to be honest with him about how you feel.” 

“I want to, I really do, but what good will it do if we can’t be together?” you confessed. Jun smiled sadly at you and reached out to squeeze your shoulder.

“Like I said, no promises, but there may be a few strings we can pull so everything works out,” he whispered, almost as if he was telling you a forbidden secret. In all honesty, he probably was as he was basically confessing to willingly trying to go behind his parents backs. It wasn’t something you had time to question however, as Jun squeezed your shoulder one last time before walking past you to the doors. “I have to get back before mom gets too suspicious, but you’re welcome to stay here and think about what I said. I’ll tell her that you were tired and went to bed early.”

“Thank you Jun.” you called out, looking back at him over your shoulder. 

“Don’t thank me just yet,” he warned, “also do me a favor and make sure the room is still clean when you leave, my family will have my head if we let it get messed up.” With that he left you alone, letting the door click softly behind him. You let your gaze fall onto the piano bench for a moment, where he had been sitting, before turning your attention to one of the large windows. It looked almost like a door and you could see a small balcony behind it, much like the one in Minghao’s study. The thoughts of Minghao and what Jun said flooded your thoughts as you moved towards the window on autopilot. Your fingers traced gently over the frame before finding the latch and undoing it to let the glass pane swing open. The soft breeze tickled your face as you pushed the door open enough to slip past and make your way out onto the balcony. Despite the soft breeze, the night air was warm, a contrast to the cool marble railing that you leaned against. Unlike the study, this view reached out to the front of the manor, allowing you to view the main courtyard and the road that lay just beyond the large gates. In the distance you could see the lights from the city, the place you used to call home before your arrangement with the Wen family. Bittersweet memories they were, as when you first moved in you found yourself longing to go back home to your friends and family. You hadn’t spoken to any of them in months, and likely wouldn’t until your wedding day, so you hoped they were alright. At the same time though, you had slowly grown used to living in the manor, so now it was the city that felt foreign to you. Even when you did go out, it was usually at night and accompanied by one of the staff or family friends. One wouldn’t think a city run by vampires would be much different than that of humans but they would be mistaken. Most of the shops were the same with a few minor adjustments, but the atmosphere felt significantly different. You didn’t know how to describe it, but the world of vampires felt more polished in a sense. At first you were worried you would never get used to it, but now you didn’t want to leave it. 

“It’s quite the view isn’t it?” whipping your head around, you were shocked to see Minghao standing behind you. His body leaned against the wall with his hands tucked into the pockets of his coat. His hair was down for once, allowing you to really see how long it was. His bangs were pushed out of his face but a few strands rested in front of his eyes, the rest tickling his neck as the wind pushed it back, though if you had to guess it was almost to his shoulders. You couldn’t help but mentally curse this man for looking more beautiful every time you saw him. 

“Hao,” you muttered as you finally got control of yourself, “what are you doing here?” 

“Ran into Jun in the hallway, he told me I could find you here.” he explained. 

“Were you looking for me?” you asked, albeit a bit too eagerly. 

“Actually I was,” he confessed, “I feel like I owe you an apology, I know I’ve been acting pretty strange recently and I didn’t want you thinking it was your fault.” Those words came as both a relief and a surprise to you. At the same time though, you couldn’t help but worry that he was only doing this because Jun ratted you out. 

“Jun didn’t set you up to this, did he?” you asked, making him huff a bit. 

“Darling he didn’t tell me anything I didn’t already know, so no I came after you myself.” You couldn’t help but blush at the nickname, something Minghao clearly noticed. You were about to ask what exactly Jun told him when he turned to look back inside the ballroom, “Come inside with me for a minute, I want to show you something.” To say you were confused would be an understatement, especially since the way he was acting was pretty out of character for him. Still you didn’t say anything as you followed him back inside, making sure to close and lock the door behind you. Minghao motioned for you to stand in the middle of the room as he grabbed a small box from his coat pocket, which you quickly realized was a box of matches. “This used to be my favorite room in the whole house,” he explained, lighting one of the candles before putting the match out and trailing the wall to light the rest, moving quickly but cautiously. “As the decades go by the house has become more and more modern to fit the changing times. This is the only room that has remained perfectly untouched since its construction,” he explained, “I don’t mind the modern touch of course, but there is something so elegant and romantic about a candlelit ballroom don’t you think?”

“It is rather beautiful, I can only imagine how extravagant the events hosted here are.” you commented, taking your eyes off of Minghao to glance across the room once again. 

“There are not many as we save it for the most important milestones but they definitely are something,” Minghao agreed, setting the last candle back into its holder. The room was now lit with a soft glow, the shadows dancing as the flames flickered softly. “I’ve been around for a few but one in particular will always be my fondest memory.” he continued. 

“Oh, what would that be?” you asked. 

“For my parents the day I was turned and initiated into the family was a big deal,” he explained, undoing his coat and walking over to the piano, “they threw a large ball for me in this room to celebrate, almost like a coming of age ceremony I guess. It wasn’t the easiest transition for me so that celebration meant a lot to me and I will never forget the first dance I had on this ballroom floor.” He paused for a minute to lay his coat down on the bench, revealing a maroon red sweater he had tucked into his usual black pants. You had never seen Minghao in any color other than black and white, and the contrast of the red against the rest of him was striking. “The first dance was with my mother,” he continued as he brushed his hands across the piano keys, “all eyes were on us as a special song played, I still remember the melody like it was yesterday.” Minghao lightly pressed on a few of the keys, the melody sounding quite familiar to the one Jun played earlier, only this time it kept playing when he pulled his hand away. The song continued as if someone was playing the piano, a distinct melody that made Minghao smile as he walked away. You weren’t sure whether to be in awe of the song or shocked by the seemingly magic piano. “What, never seen a self playing piano before?” Minghao teased when he noticed your expression. 

“Evidently not,” you exclaimed, “how on Earth is it even doing that?” 

“Simple mind trick,” Minghao explained as if it was nothing, “all I have to do is focus on the song and it’ll do what I want.”

“So what, you’ve been able to move things with your mind this whole time?” you questioned, wondering why you never knew of this ability until now. 

“Yes and no, I wouldn’t even begin to know how to explain it but that’s beside the point,” he brushed it off again as he walked back over to you, “do you know how to dance?” The question took you by surprise, looking at him as if he just asked you what the meaning of life was. 

“Come again?” 

“It’s a yes or no question dear, do you know how to dance?” Minghao repeated, smiling a bit as you nodded your head. 

“A little bit but I haven’t danced with anyone for years.” you confessed. 

“Don’t worry little dove, I will lead the way,” he said with a smirk, extending his hand to you with a soft bow, “may I have this dance?” You were really starting to question if this is the same Minghao you had spoken to a few days prior. His whole demeanor was different and there was an air of confidence to him that you had never seen before. It was like a switch was flipped inside of him and now he was finally opening up and showing you his true self, which you had to assume was Juns doing. Still, you didn’t want to throw away this chance with him so you quickly took his hand and allowed him to guide you into a steady waltz. 

It was a bit rough for you at first, not remembering the moves and getting stiff every time you misstepped which only made Minghao laugh. “Just relax, feel the moment.” he repeated each time until he finally felt you do so. You closed your eyes and focused on the song playing as Minghao guided your movements, until you were both in perfect sync with each other. Minghao hummed softly to the melody as he pulled you closer, wrapping his arm around your waist and pressing your body into his chest as your dance turned into simple swaying. Almost out of instinct, you leaned further into him and rested your head on his shoulder, taking in the sweet scent of roses and a hint of red wine that radiated off of him. Even through the sweater you could feel him, the way his body was cooler but seemed to take in the warmth from your touch. How his own heart wasn’t beating but you could feel your own pulse through his touch, as if he was molding to you. Minghao didn’t push you away, instead he welcomed the almost embrace as you two swayed together, taking in your own scent and closing his eyes. By this point the music had stopped but neither of you seemed to care. This is the closest he had ever been to you, and sadly it was the closest he would probably ever be. 

“I’ve never been this close with anyone outside of my family.” he confessed after a moment, his voice nearly a whisper. Your eyes opened at his words, but you didn’t dare to pull away from him. 

“So why me then?” you asked, almost afraid of hearing the answer. 

“You’re special,” he confessed, “you make me discover parts of myself and feel things that I didn’t know existed. I didn’t know how to handle it, I couldn’t even bring myself to tell you because I was so scared and confused. That’s why I shut you out, because I had hoped if I did that these feelings would go away and things would go back to normal.”

“But they didn’t.” you said, not having to ask since this moment was proof enough. 

“No they didn’t,” he agreed, “and then Jun came into my room and told me what you said, and how you felt and I knew I had to say something, I couldn’t have you getting the wrong idea.” He pulled away from you just enough so that he could look down at you, his eyes carrying every unspoken emotion he was feeling. You were positive that you looked no different, wondering if you were dreaming. Not even a day ago you would have been positive that Minghao hated you, and yet now he was here holding you and looking at you like you were his whole world. It almost felt like too much for you to handle. “Y/N?” he said, getting your attention, “that day in my study, what I wanted to tell you was-’

“You don’t have to say it Minghao, I already know.” you cut him off. He opened his mouth to protest but you cut him off again this time by grabbing his collar and pulling him down so your lips connected. He let out a surprised yelp at the action nearly backing away until he processed what was happening. You reached up to run your hand through his hair just as he relaxed and began to kiss you back, his arm tightening around your waist as the other reached up to cup your cheek. His touch was cold, but you ignored that in favor of focusing on how soft his skin was. His hair glided easily through your fingers and you heard him giggle as you played with the ends, tickling him slightly. His kisses were just as soft, but you could still feel the passion behind them, especially as his fangs poked out to graze at your lower lip. The sensation made you gasp and that was when Minghao finally pulled away, allowing you a moment to catch your breath. He had a shy smile on his face and you were positive he would be blushing if he could, while you felt like you could melt on the spot from how hot your face was. 

“That was definitely unexpected.” he said with a shy giggle. 

“Did you not like it?” you asked, almost afraid that you went too far. 

“No no, I loved it,” he promised, stroking your cheek with his thumb, “I just never expected you to react that way.” You leaned into his touch and closed your eyes, wanting to savor the moment for as long as possible. 

“I’ve been wanting to do that since I first met you,” you confessed, “I love you Minghao, I would want nothing more than to spend every day like this with you.” You had expected him to reciprocate your feelings since you had assumed that’s where this night was leading, but instead you were met with silence. Minghao didn’t say anything which made you open your eyes again. His expression had fallen and he looked almost defeated. 

“I had a feeling you would say that.” he whispered, slowly letting go and backing away from you. You tried to reach back out for him but he avoided your touch. 

“Hao, what’s wrong?” you asked, your heart pounding as you mentally begged him to come back, not to pull away from you again. You finally had him, you didn’t want to let go of him now, you wouldn’t be able to handle it. 

“I’m so sorry Y/N,” he apologized, turning his gaze to the floor so he wouldn’t have to face you, “this may have been a mistake.”

“What do you mean by mistake?” you practically shouted, unable to hide the pain in your voice, “what the hell were these last few hours then, everything you just said? You can’t honestly tell me that you didn’t feel anything this whole time!” 

“What? Of course I felt something I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t,” he tried to defend, his voice raising a pitch despite his calm composure. “Look I’m sorry but I can’t let this go any further, if my parents found out about this then…”

“That’s what this is about?” you cut him off, “you can’t be honest with your feelings because of some stupid tradition with your parents? Who cares what they think, Minghao? It’s just a stupid wedding. I'm sure they can find someone else if they really needed to.”

“I care, Y/N!” he exclaimed, “to you this may not seem like a big deal but to me it is. I owe my life to my family because if it wasn’t for them I wouldn’t even be here talking to you right now. You think it’s easy for me to sit here and be a bystander watching you give yourself to my brother when I would give anything to be in his place? I love you I really do, but I can’t betray my family like this, not after everything they’ve done for me.” By the time he finished talking he was stiff, shoulders bouncing as if he was out of breath and his eyes had an unfamiliar red tint to them. You took a few steps back, having never seen him this worked up before. Normally you would have been over the moon to hear Minghao say he loved you, but now it felt like a knife stabbing into your heart. By this point you were crying, tears streaming freely down your cheeks that you didn’t bother to hide. The sight pained Minghao, and he wanted nothing more than to reach out and brush them away, but he knew he shouldn’t. 

“You know,” you finally spoke after a moment, “if you really loved me you would put your pride aside and actually fight for me instead of shutting me out like everyone else.” It was cruel to say that and you knew it, but you were hurting and you wanted him to feel the same pain you were, if not more. Minghaos jaw tightened at your words, refusing to look at you as he regained his composure. 

“And here I thought you would be different.” he muttered to himself, but you were able to hear him clearly. His words didn’t have time to process before the room went cold and dark. As quickly as he had appeared, Minghao was gone, the sudden gust of wind and slamming of the door the only indication that he had even been there. You looked up at the candles, watching the smoke rise up from them before falling to your knees and sobbing. You felt suddenly trapped in the large room, suffocated by the darkness as you hugged yourself and continued to cry, not caring if anyone heard you. You wanted to scream and beg for Minghao to come back but you couldn’t, he was gone and now you were positive that he wasn’t coming back. 

ღ ღ ღ ღ ღ

Sure enough, you didn’t see Minghao for nearly a month after that night. You knew he was there, as you overheard the staff speak about him and could hear him working in his study any time you passed by. A few times you had knocked on the door, apologizing through the wood and begging for him to let you in, but he never answered. It was evident he was avoiding you, and while you wanted to be mad at him, you couldn’t lie and say you didn’t miss him. 

You weren’t sure if he told Jun what happened, but it was clear the older at least knew something was up judging by the sad smile he gave you whenever he saw you looking around. He never spoke to you directly though, only ever giving you gentle pats on the head or shoulder whenever he walked by you. You were half tempted to ask him if he knew something, but with the wedding only moments away it was impossible to get the oldest son alone. You were starting to feel like you were back to how things were when you first moved in. You were confused, frustrated, and, worst of all, alone. You also started distancing yourself as much as possible, locking yourself in your room whenever you weren’t needed for wedding planning. Mrs. Wen had noticed your behavior and tried asking you once at dinner if everything was alright, but all you could do was tell her you had a lot on your mind and left it at that. 

Tonight was one of the nights you were staying locked in your room, curled up on your bed staring out the window when you heard a knock at your door. At first you ignored it, assuming it was one of the staff, until the knocking got more frequent. Groaning, you forced yourself to get off the bed and make your way to the door, opening it to reveal a very frantic Jun. 

“About time you opened the door.” he whined, pushing past you and into your room. 

“Well hello to you too,” you uttered sarcastically, closing the door again, “I thought you guys needed to be invited in to enter a place?” 

“First off, that is an awful stereotype of us, and second of all it’s my house I can enter any room I want,” he pointed out. 

“Fair enough I guess, but why are you here?” you asked, crossing your arms. 

“You know if I didn’t know better I’d think you hated me,” he whined before straightening up again, “but last time I checked you also wanted my help with Minghao correct?” That got your attention and you immediately perked up.

“Are you saying you actually can help me?” you asked, suddenly hopeful. 

“I’m not 100% sure but there’s a chance it will work,” Jun explained, “do you remember when I told you that vampires mate for life?”

“Yeah, why?” you asked, confused as to what he was getting at. 

“Well there’s a process for that,” he explained, “I probably should have told you this earlier because it would be part of our wedding, but we claim our mates with a bite that seals our bond. Normally we do this during a certain point called a blood moon because the energy is higher.”

“First off that sounds like something wolves would do, not you guys,” you point out, “secondly yeah knowing that earlier would have been nice.”

“I’m going to ignore the wolf comment for now but yeah I’m sorry for not telling you,” he brushed you off, “but long story short if the mating ceremony is done outside of a blood moon usually that means the bond between us fails. However, if the feelings between a vampire and their mate is strong enough then it can work, and we would never break a mated couple apart.” It was finally starting to click with you what he was saying, a look of realization brushing over your features. 

“So what you are saying is that if I end up mating with Minghao, we can call off the wedding?” you questioned, “No offense to you of course.” 

“None taken.” Jun assured, “But yes if your bond is strong enough my family will have no choice but to accept it. However, if it doesn’t work then there’s nothing else we can do and it’ll be over.” 

“What are the chances of it working?” you asked.

“I’m not sure, I’ve never witnessed it myself, only heard of it.” he confessed. You knew it was a huge risk, but the more you thought about it the more it was a risk you were willing to take. If it meant you had a shot with Minghao, you would have been crazy not to try. 

“It’s worth a shot.” you stated, already making your way to the door to go find Minghao. 

“Hold up,” Jun stopped you, “you can’t just make him bite you, it doesn't work that way, the emotional bond has to be there as well.” That made you pause for a moment, given the fight you guys had, you didn’t even know if Minghao wanted to be around you anymore. 

“Emotional bond, got it,” you repeated with a deep breath, “well, wish me luck I guess.”

“Don’t overthink it Y/N, you got this!” Jun called out after you, but by that point you were already out of the room. You needed to do this now, while you were still determined and not psyching yourself out. 

The library seemed much colder than you remembered it to be, though perhaps that was your imagination. The welcoming atmosphere that usually invited you was replaced with a distant sense of dread. It hit you like a splash of ice water and made you freeze for a moment, almost debating turning around and returning to the comfort of your room for the night. However, you were determined to finish what you started, so you took a deep breath before continuing on your path. Almost on autopilot you navigated through various bookshelves and desks until you reached the familiar wooden door. You didn’t bother knocking, inviting yourself in and gently closing the door behind you. 

Minghao wasn’t at his desk like he normally was, instead you found him leaning against the wall as he looked out through the floor length window into the garden. His body was turned towards you, but his gaze remained focused on the view before him, giving you the perfect view of the man you loved. His shirt was still tucked in, though the first few buttons were undone and his sleeves were rolled up past his elbow, his cloak having been tossed carelessly onto his chair. One hand was tucked in his pocket while the other was mindlessly twirling a wine glass. His rings shone in the light and casted a reflection on the glass, only covered by the sloshing of the remaining red liquid inside. His expression was as sharp and stoic as ever, but you knew him well enough to know he was hiding something. There was a distance in his eyes, gazing at nothing as he was lost in his own thoughts. His bangs fell into his eyes and cast a shadow over his face, something he normally hated but right now didn’t seem to bother with. He looked just as beautiful as he always did, but you could tell he was hurting and that made your own heart hurt in return. 

Minghao knew you were there, he could sense your presence before you even walked into his study. The familiar aura you carried that had once been warm and inviting, but was now a dull blade stabbing at him every time he even thought of getting close to you. You could feel it too, the distance that had torn you apart over the last few weeks, the pain of wanting him to hold you and promise he’ll never leave but knowing he couldn't. You knew that he saw you, his eyes flicking over to you if only for a moment before returning back to the window. He didn’t move or make any effort to acknowledge you, merely pretending like you weren’t there. It hurt to be ignored by him this way, though you figured that you deserved it. Honestly you didn’t know what reaction you had been expecting after what happened, but you weren’t prepared for it to hurt this much. Perhaps coming here was a bad idea after all, that’s what you told yourself with a defeated sigh. You were about to turn and leave when you heard the male clear his throat. Looking back, you watched as Minghao straightened up and finished the rest of his wine before finally speaking.

“What are you doing here?” his voice was cold and emotionless, and you hated the way you flinched at it. 

“Hao I-” you froze, not sure what exactly you were supposed to say. He didn’t respond, merely keeping his gaze on you as he moved back to his desk, setting the empty glass to the side as he sat down, resting his chin on his hand. You took a moment to look around the room, realizing how much of a mess it was. His art supplies were carelessly scattered all over the place, and you noticed the painting he was working on had disappeared. Even his desk was a mess of random notes and sketches. You tried to glance at them but he noticed and quickly swiped them out of your view. “What happened to your painting?” you asked, glancing back at the mess where it had once been. 

“I lost my muse.” he replied flatly, “You didn’t answer my question.” You hated how cold he was being, but you supposed you deserved it. 

“I needed to see you.” you confessed. 

“Want to yell at me more? Toss my emotions aside?” he scoffed, though you could hear the pain lingering in his voice. 

“No, I came to say I’m sorry, I never should have yelled at you like that. I let my emotions take control and I know that I can’t take back what I said but I need you to know that I didn’t mean it, and I’m sorry.” Your apology took him by surprise, a startled noise getting caught in his throat as he sat up. 

“I see,” he muttered softly, “I appreciate the apology, and I am sorry too, what happened that night was my fault. I shouldn’t have let things drag on.” You sighed softly and made your way over to him, kneeling down on the other side of his desk and reaching for his hand. He stiffened up a bit, but didn’t stop you which you took as a positive sign. 

“I did mean one thing though, I love you Minghao and I’m not giving up on you.” you said, making him sigh. 

“I love you too Angel, I really do, but I told you we can’t let this go further.”

“I know that once the wedding happens it’ll be over, but that doesn’t mean we don’t have right now,” you argued, “one night Minghao, that’s all I’m asking for.” He raised an eyebrow at you, urging you to continue, “I want a redo of the night we spent in the ballroom. I want you to dance with me for real and not pull away from me. After that I will leave you alone but please the least you can do is give me that.” Minghao took a moment to ponder what you were asking, absentmindedly rubbing the back of your hand with his thumb. 

“This is dangerous, you do know that right?” he asked after a moment, shaking his head when you nodded, “We could get in a lot of trouble for this.”

“I’ve thought a lot about this, I just can’t let you slip away from me anymore.” you said, determined to make him listen. 

“You’re after something aren’t you?” he realized, you didn’t want to give away your intentions but you couldn't help but smirk a bit which was the only response he needed. Another moment of silence passed and for a moment you were worried that he would reject you, but finally you saw him nod his head. 

“Fine, this is the least I can do I suppose,” he agreed, “meet me in the ballroom tomorrow at sundown, if you’re not there by the time the sun sets fully I’ll leave.” You couldn’t help but smile at his agreement, squeezing his hand softly before standing up. 

“Thank you, I’ll be there I promise!”

ღ ღ ღ ღ ღ

The ballroom felt even bigger than before, but maybe that was due to your nerves. This was your last chance to get Minghao, and if you failed then you would lose him, probably for good. The thought alone was enough to hurt you and it hadn’t even happened yet. Your shoes clicked softly on the polished floor as you stepped inside, glancing around the room. Minghao had definitely been here already, the candles lit, some of the curtains pulled back to cast shadows on the floor from the still setting sun. The piano was even playing already, a new melody that you never heard before. It was beautiful for sure, but also more melancholic than the one that had played when you first danced with Minghao. Speaking of, the vampire in question was nowhere to be seen. Spinning around the room once, then twice, you trailed your eyes over every corner in hopes to see him, but there was nothing. Minghao was nowhere to be seen, and you couldn’t help but deflate a bit at the thought that he left already, despite the fact the sun was still out. 

“I was wondering when you would show up,” startled, you twirled around to see him only a few feet behind you, appearing practically out of thin air. He was dressed in all black, even having the shade brushed lightly on his eyes to make them pop. The only color being the jewels that decorated his ears and fingers, twinkling against the candlelight. You were used to seeing Minghao in all black, but something about the way he looked now made him even more beautiful. 

“Where did you come from?” you asked, “I swore no one was here when I walked in.” 

“Hiding in the shadows is pretty easy, just needed to make sure this wasn’t a trick.” 

“Why would I trick you?”

“I know you’ve been talking with my brother,” he replied, “who knows what you two have been up to.” Before you could argue that there was nothing, he was speaking up again, “It doesn’t matter though, you are here now so, shall we?” He offered his hand to you, much like he did the last time and you quickly took it, falling into step with him as you began swaying to the rhythm. It didn’t take long for the dance to pick up, and the two of you were soon gliding across the floor, matching each other's movements perfectly and falling in sync with ease. Minghao seemed a bit stiff at first, being so close to you, but he soon relaxed as the melody from the piano became softer, almost hypnotic. You closed your eyes for a moment and just allowed yourself to feel the music, letting it guide you and him in turn. 

The sun gradually set as you two danced, until moonlight replaced it shining through the window, making the flicker of the candles more dramatic. The room felt more romantic without the extra light, more intimate as you willed yourself to get closer to Minghao, wanting to feel him and engrave this moment into your memory. It nearly worked, and for a moment you were at peace, until he spoke up again. 

“So, do you want to tell me what this is really about?”

“What do you mean?” you asked, glancing up to meet his gaze, though your eyes quickly fell back to your feet. His expression was soft, and yet his eyes were burning through you like he knew something you didn’t. Judging by his attitude, you wouldn’t be surprised if that were the case. 

“I wasn’t born yesterday Y/N, I know you didn’t drag me here just because you wanted a dance,” he pointed out, “you’re up to something and I want to know what it is.”

“I’m not up to anything, I just want to be with you,” you confessed, “I just want to love you and have you love me in return.” 

“You know that I love you, I’ve loved you since the first night we spent together in my study.”

“Then why won’t you show it? I know you’re worried about your family and all of that but does their approval really matter that much. Clearly Jun is okay with us being together and I’m sure your parents would come around to it,” you were basically pleading with him at this point. You didn’t care what the consequences were any more, you just wanted to be near him, hold him, love him the way you knew he deserved. You knew he was holding back and hurting himself in the process and you hated seeing him like this, you just needed him to open up. 

“My love, believe me I would do whatever it takes to be with you,” he promised, leaning down to rest his head against yours. 

“Then do it,” you urged, “you and I both know there’s a way.” Minghao was confused for a moment, until it finally dawned on him what you were implying. 

“Love, you can’t seriously be asking me to-”

“Mate with me,” you cut him off with your answer, “I know the chances of it working are low but if it does then your family would have no choice but to accept us!”

“You do know what you’re asking for right?” Minghao questioned, “this is not a simple process and it could put you under a lot of stress. I don’t want to hurt you.” 

“Who said you would hurt me? I’ve done my research Hao, I know what I am getting myself into.” 

“There are so many ways that this could go wrong,” he argued. 

“I know but think about what it would mean if it goes right,” you rebutted, “you do want to be with me, don’t you?”

“Of course I do but I don’t want you to potentially ruin everything for yourself, if it works that means you will be bonded to me forever,” Minghao reminded. As much as he would love for it to work, he knew the risks better than you did and he didn’t want you making a choice that you would regret. 

“Hao please,” you pleaded, lifting your arms to cup his face, “what will it take to convince you?” You could see the gears turning in his mind as he melted into your touch, his own hands coming up to rest on top of yours. 

“Are you sure this is what you really want?” he asked, almost in a whisper. 

“I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life.” 

“Very well,” Minghao agreed, “I’ll make you a deal. I will give you a taste tonight of how that feels and give you time to think about it. If you decide this is what you still want, then we can give it a shot, but know that I can’t promise you it will work.” It wasn’t the exact outcome you were hoping for, but you supposed it was better than having him turn you down completely. “So little dove,” he continued, grabbing one of your wrists and turning his head to press a kiss on your pulse point, “do we have a deal?” You nodded at first, only to sigh when he gave you a stern look stating that he needed a verbal answer. 

“If it means you’ll give me a chance then yes, we have a deal.”

“Very well,” Minghao pulled away from you slightly, still holding onto your wrist as he gave it a once over. “You haven’t been bitten by a vampire before, right?” he asked, unable to hide his smirk when you agreed, “the wrist is an easier spot for your first time. I’m only going to do it long enough so you can get a good feeling for it though. It may hurt at first, but after a few seconds it should start to feel almost warm but not in a bad way.” He looked up at you to make sure you understood, stroking your skin with his thumb as you took a second to calm your nerves. Though you weren’t sure if you were nervous because of the new experience or because Minghao was the one doing it. 

“I’m ready,” you assured, giving him a confident smile. 

“Good, if it hurts or you feel dizzy at all I want you to pull at my hair and I’ll stop,” with that he pulled your wrist towards his mouth. You got a few seconds to prepare as he pressed a light kiss against your pulse point, letting his fangs brush over it before carefully biting down. You gasped at the sensation, tensing up as it felt like you were being stabbed with needles. Minghaos grip on your wrist tightened as you squirmed, keeping you still and looking up at you to make sure you were okay. The pain lasted for a few more seconds before turning into a dull throbbing, and then finally you felt the warm sensation he was talking about. It started at your wrist before flooding through the rest of your body, making you tingle and relax against his touch. You never expected the sensation to be this pleasurable, almost feeling like you were too hot and yet it was a sensation you never wanted to end. Minghao couldn’t help but moan softly at the taste, an action you mimicked as his pleasure only seemed to heighten your experience. 

The second you felt your legs go weak was the moment he let you go, brushing his tongue over the newly formed bite mark and wiping his lips with his free hand. He was quick to catch you as you felt yourself lower to the ground, bringing him down with you as he looked at you in concern. 

“Are you alright?” 

“That was amazing,” you breathed out, “honestly I didn’t want you to stop, that felt way better than I thought it would.” Minghao giggled softly at your confession. 

“I didn’t want it to end either, but if I didn’t stop then I’m not sure I would have been able to, your taste is so addicting.” You looked over at him, noticing how his pupils were blown and his lips were parted, fangs still poking out as if he was desperate for more. You weren’t sure if it was because you were coming down from your mini high still, or if it was how attractive he looked, but you couldn’t stop yourself from jumping forward and crashing your lips onto his. The contact clearly caught him off guard and sent both of you crashing to the ground, Minghao on his back with you on top of him. He let out a surprised yelp and for a second you were worried you had hurt him, about to pull away and apologize when he wrapped his arms around you and pulled you closer to him to deepen the kiss. 

You could still taste the remains of your blood on his lips, but the rest of Minghao was so intoxicating that you couldn’t bring yourself to care. You bit on his bottom lip and swiped your tongue across his fangs and the inside of his mouth, careful not to cut yourself. He tried returning the passion in your kiss but you quickly overpowered him and he was left a moaning mess on the floor, desperately gripping onto you as you kissed him like your life depended on it. You adjusted yourself so you were straddling him, grinding your hips down against his when you felt the bulge forming in his trousers. The friction had Minghao whimpering against you, breaking the kiss and throwing his head back as you repeated the action. As you sat up to catch your breath you finally realized the position you found yourself in. The normally calm and composed Minghao was now a shuddering mess beneath you, his hair messy and makeup smeared, his shirt also coming untucked at the front which gave you a peek at his abdomen. All of this coming from a simple bite, and it made you want to ruin the man beneath you. Claim him as yours and see how far you could unravel him until he came undone. You were never one to claim a dominant role in your past relationships, but something about the man beneath you brought out a new found confidence. 

“I want you so badly,” you whispered, grabbing his hair and lightly pulling his head back so you could kiss and suck at his neck. 

“Then take me,” he pleaded, “Darling I am all yours.” His words were rewarded when you bit down on his neck softly before returning to kiss him again, giving his hair one last tug before letting go and moving your hands beneath you to begin undoing his shirt. You could feel his hands tugging at your own shirt, debating pulling it off before giving up and sliding his hands under the fabric instead. His touch was cold in contrast to your heated skin, sending shivers down your body and making you gasp into his mouth. His fingers expertly traced your skin, gently scratching down your lower back before reaching further up to pinch and tug at your nipples. The sensations had you arching your back, making you grind your hips further into his and making him groan. 

“You are so beautiful, you know that?” you asked, pulling away from the kiss to finish undoing his shirt. This was the first time you were ever seeing Minghaos body and he was even more attractive than you had imagined. You knew that he was on the slimmer side, but his body was still toned enough that you could see the outline of his muscles. His skin was soft and unblemished, feeling almost unreal under your touch as you trailed your hands up his body, taking your time to feel him and memorize every curve. Minghao sighed softly at the touch, leaning his head back against the ground and letting his eyes close so he could enjoy the feeling. 

“You’re one to talk,” he responded after a moment, giving your nipples another tug which made you squirm above him, “sensitive too I take it.” 

“Don’t get too ahead of yourself, I’m the one in charge here,” you reminded, sliding down his legs a bit so that you could undo his belt and trousers. Minghao lifted his hips enough to help you slide them down along with his boxers, opting not to take them off all the way since you were desperate to feel him. Minghaos length matched well with the rest of his body, on the longer side but more slender. It seemed you had already gotten him pretty worked up as he was already leaking precum and his tip was red. Minghao gasped and shuddered as you took the base in your hand, giving him a few experimental strokes to get a good feel of him. 

“Even this is pretty,” you teased, swiping your thumb across his slit causing him to tense up, “I would love to get a taste of you.” 

“As much as I would love that Darling we might want to hurry things up, we are still in the ballroom and I would rather not have anyone walk in on us,” Minghao reminded. You spared a cautionary glance towards the doors, taking a moment to listen for any footsteps. Based on what Jun and Hao had told you, the chances of anyone walking in were slim, but that didn’t mean they were zero. After a moment you decided it was safer not to risk taking too long and sighed. 

“Next time then,” you hummed, climbing off of Minghao for a second so you could remove your bottoms then climbing back on top of him. His hands found their way to your hips as you positioned yourself over him, spitting on your hand and using that to coat his length before slowly easing him inside of you. The stretch wasn’t too bad, but it was still enough for you to feel it, causing you to moan as you stilled with him inside of you. Minghao cursed at the feeling and threw his head back, pulling his bottom lip between his teeth in an attempt to be quiet. 

“Oh god you feel so good,” he moaned out, tightening his grip on your hips as you gave yourself a second to adjust. It took all of his willpower not to thrust up into you, but he refrained and allowed you to go at your own pace to make sure he was comfortable. It only took a moment for you to get used to him, grinding your hips down on him before starting to lift yourself up and bouncing on him. You went at a teasingly slow pace, almost frustratingly so, but it was worth it to see Minghao tense up in an attempt to not take control and pound into you the way you were sure he wanted to do. “Angel,” he huffed out, “as much as I love this time with you I am dying here, please go faster.”

“Aren’t you already dead?” you teased, but you obliged and sped up your pace anyway, causing the both of you to moan out. Your hands landed on his chest for support and his began roaming your body, making sure to feel every inch of your skin. Eventually he settled for gripping onto your thighs, squeezing at them as you continued to bounce on him. Unfortunately, it was hard for you to keep up the pace as you quickly began to grow tired, movements faltering a bit as you struggled trying to keep going. Minghao quickly noticed and chuckled softly to himself, taking advantage of your exhaustion to grab you and flip you both over so now he was the one on top. 

“Alright little dove, now it’s my turn,” he purred, grabbing your hands and pinning them beside your head as he began thrusting into you at an almost inhuman pace. The speed and force had you crying out in pleasure, tightening your grip on his hands and closing your eyes as you lost yourself to the feeling. Minghao pressed his lips to yours again to help keep you quiet, swallowing your moans as he continued the same pace. It wasn’t long before you felt that familiar knot forming in your stomach. 

“Hao, I’m close,” you moaned out, pulling away from the kiss. 

“Don’t worry Angel, I got you just let go,” he whispered, burying his head in your shoulder as his own moans got louder, signaling that he wasn’t far behind you. With a few more thrusts he was pulling out and releasing over your stomach, biting down on your shoulder to quiet himself. The sensation of his fangs buried into your skin again was enough to send you over the edge, vision going white as your release took over you. 

The last thing you remembered was Minghao calling your name and feeling his fingers graze your cheek before you passed out. 

ღ ღ ღ ღ ღ

To say you were confused when you woke up in an unfamiliar bed was an understatement. This bed was bigger and much softer, with you tucked in under a black, silk comforter as opposed to the velvet one in your room. You felt dizzy and the side of your neck was throbbing, brushing your fingers over the area, you winced when they touched an evident mark. The same place Minghao had bitten you right before you passed out. Speaking of Minghao, the male in question was nowhere to be seen, the only sign of him being the scent of him that lingered in what you had to guess was his room. Your suspicions were confirmed when you rolled over and saw a note resting on the pillow. You could recognize his handwriting anywhere as you read the note apologizing for going too far and having to leave you alone. It said he needed to attend to a few things but for you to rest and relax and he would be back soon. You couldn’t deny that you were a bit disappointed waking up without him, but at least he didn’t abandon you. 

You slowly sat up and pulled the comforter off of you, revealing that you were also wearing one of Haos dress shirts, the fabric doing very little to cover your figure but at least it was something after your own clothes had been ruined in the ballroom. Also it smelled like him which served as a great comfort to you. You couldn’t help but notice how he seemed to overwhelm your senses, and yet you wouldn’t dare pull yourself away from it, almost as if you were drawn to anything that reminded you of him. You shook that thought away though instead deciding to glance around the unfamiliar room. You had only ever seen his study and not his actual room, so you couldn’t help but be curious. Besides, you assumed Minghao was still busy and wouldn’t be back for a while so there would be no harm in looking around as long as you were careful, right?

You carefully slipped out of bed, taking a moment to stretch before making your way to the other side of the room. Most of the lights were off, but the lamp on his bedside was on which provided enough light for you to see clearly. Minghaos room had the same dated touch as the rest of the house, but it was also distinctly his. It had the same off white walls that you recognized from the rest of the rooms, but with more notes of gray and black in the furniture. The floor was hardwood, but there was a large gray rug in the middle that you swore was the softest thing you ever felt. The walls were decorated with various paintings, some of which you recognized as his own while others were likely collected from his trips. There were also various artifacts and statues on the shelves that seemed fragile so you were careful to stay away from those. The windows in the room were smaller, mostly covered though one was open to let a soft breeze into the room. The room was fairly simple, but it also had an elegance to it that had Minghaos name written all over it. The one thing that really caught your attention though, was the black easel that was tucked into the far back corner, facing away from you so you couldn't see what was on the canvas. Unlike his studio, the supplies in his room were neatly organized on little black shelves, all surrounding that one corner. You had seen his work a million times before, but something about this one in particular was calling out to you. 

Cautiously, you walked over to the corner, careful not to knock anything over as you carefully turned the canvas around. A familiar outline came into view and you realized why you had been so drawn to the painting, it was the same one that Minghao had shown you back before your fight. You had assumed he had gotten rid of it, but now it was standing right in front of you, and much more detailed than you had remembered. In fact, it looked like he was nearly finished with it. You could clearly make out the details on the two figures, and it dawned on you why your opinion on it mattered so much to Minghao. 

“That’s…us,” you muttered, ghosting your fingers lightly over the painting to trace the noticeable figures. He had painted the two of you dancing together, catching small details like your eyes, your hair, the way you smiled at him, everything. You also very quickly recognized the outfit as the dress he had designed and was planning to make you for your wedding. You couldn’t help but get emotional looking at it, wondering how long this had taken for him to do and how long he had been planning it. 

“Going through my stuff I see,” you whipped around to see a smug Minghao standing against the door, hands tucked in his pockets as he watched you. You didn’t even know he was back, let alone hear the door open. 

“Hey, when did you get back?” you questioned in an attempt to change the subject. It wasn’t like you were doing anything wrong but you still felt awkward getting caught. Not to mention the look he had was enough to make you feel small under his gaze. 

“Just now, I got called into a family meeting. I’m surprised you’re awake. I've only been gone an hour or so,” he said. 

“I see,” you replied, “how did that go?”

“That’s not important right now,” he brushed you off, “want to explain what you’re doing?”

“You didn’t get rid of the painting,” you stated as if that wasn’t obvious, the response causing Minghao to laugh.

“Of course I didn't, I just needed a more private space to work on it, you know you weren’t supposed to see it yet.”

“But I already have seen it.”

“Were you able to tell it was us back then?” he asked, shaking his head at your moment of realization, “honestly when I started working on it I had planned to confess to you with it but things got a bit complicated so I locked it away in here, and yet here we are.” 

“You’re the one that brought me to your room,” you reminded. 

“Well what was I supposed to do hm? Leave you passed out and half naked on the ballroom floor?” Minghao teased. You couldn’t help but blush at the memory of what happened only a few hours prior, something Minghao noticed even in the dim lighting. 

“You could have taken me to my room if you didn’t want me to get curious,” you teased back. 

“I could have but I like having you here, I think I may just keep you here from now on.” He was clearly amused by the situation and as much as you loved the idea of staying with him, there was also a defiant part of you that wanted to push his buttons and mess with him. 

“What if I don’t want to stay here?” you questioned, moving over to the door and attempting to push past him. You didn’t even make it a step further before his arm was around your waist, pulling you against his chest. 

“You weren’t saying that earlier,” he whispered, “and I’m afraid that’s no longer an option.”

“Well I change my mind,” you muse, clearly not serious as you pull away from him. Minghao lets you go, but you hear him groan as you do. 

“This is a dangerous game you are playing, you know that right?” he huffed, tone lowering as he spoke, “if you walk out that door there will be trouble.”

“For me or for you?” you taunt, already opening the door. You weren’t sure what you were expecting but there was a new thrill emerging from the idea of running from him. Would he chase after you? Given the way he was acting it was almost a guarantee and that thought had your mind racing. Also, in a weird way this felt like revenge for all the times he ran from you. 

“Darling I’m giving you five seconds, don’t make me chase after you.” Minghaos voice was stern, but you could hear the amusement laced behind it. He was challenging you, he wanted you to run away because he wanted the thrill of chasing after you. Who were you to deny him? Minghao started counting down and you wasted no time in running out the door and down the hall. You paused for a moment, looking around the hall and wondering where you could go where Minghao wouldn’t catch you. The garden would have been your default but you assumed that was too obvious, but you didn’t know a large majority of the house so you weren’t sure where else you could go. Not that you had much time though, as you looked over your shoulder to see Minghao already making his way towards you. He wasn’t running, but his stride was long and you knew he would easily catch up to you if you waited too long. “If I were you my little dove, I would start running,” he called out, causing you to turn and immediately rush down the stairs. 

You could briefly hear Minghao yell something after you, but his voice quickly vanished as you put enough distance between yourself and him. Knowing the young vampire though, he probably wasn’t too far behind you and had a few tricks up his sleeve to mess with you. Eventually you decided the library would be your best bet, yeah it was obvious but had enough space for you to hide and potentially run away from Minghao. With that in mind, you crept your way over to the familiar door and snuck inside, careful not to make too much noise. Moving a bit slower to make sure you didn’t run into anything, you tucked yourself into a corner behind one of the bookshelves. You kneeled down and positioned yourself so that you could peek around the shelf. Not that it mattered much as you couldn’t see anything due to the darkness. You couldn’t deny the thrill you got from waiting, wondering how long it would take for him to catch you already knowing he would. 

It only took a few moments before the door was opening, light pouring in and showing his shadow before the door was closing again. You covered your mouth and pressed your back into the wall as you heard his footsteps echo through the room. You could hear him hum and giggle softly as he made his way around the shelves, clearly undeterred by the darkness. 

“Quite a predictable hiding spot don’t you think?” he called out, voice echoing as he looped around one of the bookshelves, “I’m starting to think you don’t even want to win.” You couldn’t help but huff at that, the sound catching Minghaos attention as he made his way to the corner. You could barely make out his outline as he stalked towards you, giving you enough time to react and slide around to the other side of the shelf. Keeping your movements as silent as possible, you darted past him, heading to the area of the room he had just vacated, hoping to throw him off your trail. Minghao seemed to notice this as you heard him laugh. “Where are you hiding my little dove, I know you’re in here,” he called out, the playfulness in his voice evident.

You pressed yourself against the wall, suppressing a giggle, feeling the adrenaline rushing through your veins. You knew Minghao was a master at this game, but you were determined to outsmart him. Your heart was pounding in your ears as you tried to stay as quiet as possible. The sound of footsteps stopped, a moment of silence followed before his voice rang out again, “Well played Darling, but it's no use, I will find you soon enough. We are linked, you can’t hide.”

You giggled quietly, tiptoeing your way to the door in hopes that you could sneak out past him. It seemed that Minghao was two steps ahead of you though, as the second you went to open the door you found yourself pinned against it. You gasped as your wrists were pinned to the door beside your head, Minghao pressing himself against you so you couldn’t escape. 

“Found you,” Minghao purred, flipping you around so you were facing him. 

“You did indeed, now what?” you hummed, squirming against him. 

“Now,” Minghao breathed, leaning in so your lips were brushing, “I claim what's rightfully mine.” As he connected your lips he pulled you both away from the door, savoring your taste for a second before pulling away and throwing you over his shoulder with what you assumed was inhuman strength. You let out a noise that was a mix between a squeal and a laugh as you were carried back up the stairs and into his room, Minghao kicking the door closed before carefully dropping you onto his bed. “Since we’re alone I can finally take my time with you,” he mused, carefully undoing his shirt and sliding it off his body as he walked around to the other side of the bed. “Stay put,” he ordered when he saw you reach out for him, staying out of your reach as he went through his various drawers looking for something. Before you could ask him what he was doing he had returned with what he needed, crawling onto the bed and setting whatever it was off to the side before pinning you to the bed and kissing you again. His hands made quick work of the shirt you were wearing, practically ripping it off to expose your body to him. 

“Beautiful,” he praised, pulling away to admire you before reaching behind him, “do you trust me?”

“Of course,” you whispered back, making him smile and show you the object that was in his hand, a long silk tie that you assumed he got from his closet. 

“Good, now be good for me and put your hands over your head,” he ordered, to which you eagerly obeyed. It was a bit of a struggle with the shirt still in the way, but that only seemed to amuse Minghao as he helped you put your arms up, your hands still caught in the sleeves. If anything, this only worked in his favor as he wrapped the fabric around your wrists in a makeshift restraint, finishing his work off with the tie to make sure that you couldn’t easily escape your binds. “Comfortable?” he asked, to which you eagerly nodded, “perfect, now why don’t you do me a favor and close your eyes.” Once again you agreed, squirming with anticipation as you wondered what he had planned. 

The realization came a few seconds later as you felt something soft brush along your inner thigh, causing you to gasp. You heard Minghao hum in delight as the sensation brushed along your thigh once again before moving to your hip and up your body, purposefully missing the spots he knew you would be sensitive. Once the bristles tickled your stomach, you recognized the sensation as being one of his paintbrushes. The tip barely grazed your skin as he brushed random patterns all over your body, going down to your thigh before moving back up and lightly brushing around your nipple, causing you to whine and open your eyes. 

“Hao,” you whined out, “stop teasing me please.” He ignored you though as he moved the brush up your stomach, swirling it around your nipple. You hated how sensitive you were, reacting to the lightest touch by arching your back and silently pleading him for more. 

“I have no idea what you are talking about Darling,” Minghao murmured, “I’m just working on my latest masterpiece.” You whined again as he continued trailing the paintbrush across your body, paying close attention to your nipples but refusing to touch you. You were growing increasingly frustrated at the teasing, rubbing your thighs together and pulling at your hands. You almost succeeded in pulling them out of the shirt when his free hand reached up to grab your wrists. “Nice try Angel, you’re not getting away from me that easy,” he hummed. You exhaled sharply as he set the paintbrush to the side gripping your thigh as  he trailed his kisses down your chest, stopping to swirl his tongue over your nipple. You gasped softly and arched your back, giving Minghao better access to your chest. He continued with his actions, flicking your nipple with his tongue before wrapping his lips around it and sucking, making you moan softly. 

“So sensitive,” he muttered, grazing the skin lightly with one of his fangs before letting it go and switching to give the other side the same treatment. His one hand stayed pressed against your wrists, keeping them in place as you tried pulling away. 

“Minghao please,” you begged, “I need you so badly, please do something!”

“Well since you asked so nicely,” he replied, making quick work of his pants and boxers, kicking them to the side and positioning himself at your entrance. Mimicking your actions from before, he spit on his hand to lubricate himself before slowly pushing into you. You threw your head back against the covers and moaned at the familiar stretch, Minghao groaning softly as he bottomed out. He started out with slow thrusts, just feeling you and letting you get used to him before gradually speeding up until he was thrusting into you with the same inhuman speed as before. You already knew you weren’t going to last very long, already feeling your stomach tighten as you closed your eyes and pulled at your makeshift binds, desperate for something to hold on to.

Minghao noticed this and within seconds your hands were free, allowing you to wrap your arms around his neck and pull him against you. Your nails dug painfully into his shoulders but that only seemed to encourage him as his movement continued and his head fell to your shoulder. 

“You are so perfect,” he moaned out, making you shiver as his breath tickled your skin, “I love you so much, I don’t think I could ever be without you.” His words made your heart swell, but you were too gone to acknowledge them at the moment, more focused on your rapidly approaching release. 

“Hao,” you whined out, “please, I want you to bite me again.” Your words caused his movements to falter a bit, Minghao raising his head to look at you. 

“Darling, are you sure?” 

“Please, I’m so close please bite me again!” your wish was granted as he buried his fangs into the already formed bite mark while picking up his pace again. The combined pain and pleasure had you cumming with a silent scream, holding onto him like his life depended on it. Minghao slowed down his pace a bit to help you ride through your orgasm, licking at your neck until you settled down. You took a second to catch your breath before sitting up, having to pause for a moment as your head was spinning. Minghao tried to push you to lay back down but you stopped him, “You didn’t finish.” 

“Don’t worry about me Angel, I’m more worried about you,” he assured, but you shook your head and pushed him so he was leaning back on his arms. 

“Let me help you, I did say I wanted to taste you.” You leaned down and wrapped your fingers around his length, placing a few experimental kisses on the tip. Minghao tried to protest, telling you that it was fine but his words were cut off when you took him into your mouth. His body tensed and he inhaled sharply as you took as much of him in as possible, careful not to gag as you hollowed out your cheeks and began bobbing your head. You could taste yourself on him, but that quickly faded until all your senses could process was Minghao. The way he tasted, the way he smelled, the way his voice sounded as he moaned out praises and encouragement, the way his body tensed whenever you paused to swipe your tongue over his slit. It was intoxicating and you swore you could stay like this forever. Forever didn’t last very long though, as Minghao grabbed your hair to stop your movements, bucking his hips lightly as he released into your mouth. You couldn’t help but moan at the taste, swallowing as much as you could and licking the rest off of him. Minghao shivered at the overstimulation and quickly pulled you off of him, giving you a quick kiss as a thank you. 

“You really are something,” he commented, moving to get into bed and pulling you under the covers with him. You immediately snuggled into his chest, wrapping your arm around his waist as he moved to play with your hair. “You are okay though right?” he asked after a moment, “I’m worried I may have gone overboard.” You hum softly and snuggle further into him, wanting to be as close to him as possible. His presence was comforting, and you could feel your heart beating through him, almost as if it was his own. Minghao felt it as well, feeling like you were an extension of his being. Someone he never wanted to let go of, and at least for now he didn’t have to. He knew what this meant, but it wasn’t something he could bring himself to think about right now, wanting to savor the moment instead. 

“Hey Hao?” you ask after a moment, “what about that promise you made earlier?”

“Don’t worry about that right now, we’ll talk about it when you’re rested,” he replied. 

“Promise?” 

“I promise.” You yawned softly, allowing your eyes to close as you realized how tired you had become. You didn’t want to fall asleep, worried he would be gone by the time you woke up. However, your fight to stay awake was in vain and you quickly gave in, hugging Minghao tightly and pressing one last kiss to his cheek. 

“I love you Minghao,” you whispered, “I never want to be apart from you again.”

“I love you too darling,” he responded, “and don’t worry, you won’t.” You two would deal with the aftermath of your actions when you woke up. For now you just wanted to enjoy each other's presence for as long as possible. 

Seventeen Taglist: @woo8hao @amethyistheart @exfolitae @lexix001

To be removed please message me.

#the8 #the8 x reader #the8 smut #seventeen fanfic #seventeen smut #seventeen x reader #seventeen #xu minghao #minghao fanfic #minghao angst #minghao smut #minghao fluff #the8 angst #the8 fanfic #the8 fluff #vampire au #kpop fanfic #kpop #kpop x reader #kpop smut #kpop fluff #kpop angst #fluff #angst #smut #seventeen au

[zarvasace]

Out-of-Fandom Longfic Recs

Looking for something good that you can sink your teeth into? Not necessarily LoZ? I can recommend some masterpieces and favorites. :) all these are complete!

Harry Potter and the Problem of Potions by Wyste. 180k. Yes yes HP I know. It was still a formative part of my adolescence and this is just fanfiction. Very satisfying fanfiction, in which Harry becomes a real character who desperately wants to be a potion master despite Snape's every attempt to dissuade him. Lots of fun.

Harry Potter and the Methods of Rationality by LessWrong. 661k. Longest thing on this list but HOO BOY is it worth it. Written by a guy to teach people about... well. Methods of rationality. Applies the scientific method to the HP-verse, makes Voldemort actually smart, and is a lot of fun the whole way through. You can read on FFN or by downloading an epub or PDF. At least try the first chapter I am BEGGING YOU.

The Dragon-King's Temple by Kryal. Avatar: the Last Airbender (show) & Stargate SG-1, 200k. I knew nothing about SG-1 going in, had only seen the movie, and really enjoyed this. Once again, the worldbuilding and the mystery are very very good. Like legitimately. Zuko & Toph focus!

Thrower of the Dart by Vathara. Avengers & Artemis Fowl (books) crossover, 100k. Picks up after the first Avengers movie and AF book 5 (the demon one.) Very nice plot, good character interactions, fun worldbuilding, mostly in the AF side.

let the shadows fall behind you by Sweetbriar15. Disney's Descendants (just the first one), 155k. Did you ever feel like the movie was a bit of a waste of a good story premise? This will help. Picks up after modifying the end of the first movie, introduces a lot of awesome character and worldbuilding information. Mal-focused, but not too heavily.

Phantom of Truth by Haiju. Danny Phantom, 58k. DP is full of whump fics, and this is probably one of the very best. Its sequel, Shadow of a Doubt, has stopped updating on AO3, but it should still be on FFN. SoaD is, iirc, 100k+, and quite good, dealing with the aftermath of the first.

Bandits and Bravery by LettdViolet. Fire Emblem: Three Houses, 28k. Linhardt/M!Byleth, modern college AU, the events of the game are played out by a group playing knockoff D&D. Themes of grief and mourning a parent's death, and finding comfort. Linhardt is like a sleepy version of Vio without as much evil. Shortest on this list but I LIKE IT OKAY

Carpetbaggers by cofax. Chronicles of Narnia, 120k. Fills in some of the time post-LWW with adventures and working on gaining trust. Feels a lot like a continuation of the book, though without the heavy-handed allegory.

#fic rec #harry potter #atla #sg1 #mcu #avengers #artemis fowl #disney descendants #danny phantom #fe3h #chronicles of narnia

[katethewriter]

Just Come Home

sequel to Wish We Could Be Like That

Pairing: WandaNat x Reader

Words: 11k~

Summary: Absence makes the heart grow fonder.

Inspired by the song Where's My Love by SYML

Warnings: bad words, bad guys, canon typical violence, an extremely long chapter

A/N: Remember when I said its gonna get worse before it gets better? hehehe... This part includes a long-awaited confrontation! I also hope this is a satisfying ending for the story. I don't really have anything planned next for this series, but I'm not against adding to it. If you have any ideas, hit me up! I might see if it can fit into the series. I'm almost certain this is the longest single chapter I've ever written for a fic. I hope you guys enjoy! Let me know what you think!

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

Part One - Part Two - Part Three

Near silent foot steps announce Clint’s return.

For the last two hours, he had left to pick up the next shipment you are to pass to the tracksuits. As he enters the room, he looks at you sheepishly. His hands mindlessly fiddle with a small piece of paper with every step.

You barely spare him a glance before returning to the notes you were studying.

The two of you have barely spoken since that morning you finally broke the news of your relationship. Beyond the few questions he asked you about the timeline of your relationship, not much has been said about the matter. The longer the information sets in, the more he contemplates the last year and his interactions with you specifically.

You can see the guilt setting in more and more with each day. You want to give him the benefit of the doubt. He had only been trying to be a good friend. He thought he was looking out for Natasha. That’s what he was trying to do, unknowingly causing the pain he was trying to prevent. You try to remember his intentions were in a good place, despite bring terribly misguided.

However, the sting of betrayal still lingers. The last six months spent with no contact from Natasha and Wanda, without even a chance to say goodbye, all because he meddled into a relationship that wasn’t his to meddle in to begin with.

He comes to a stop in front of you, holding the folded page between you. “This was with the shipment,” Clint breaks the three day silence, “its for you.”

When you look up, he doesn’t meet your gaze. You stare at the offered paper for a moment before finally reaching out to take it from him. As the archer shuffles back to his side of the room, you turn the page over in your hands. Unfolding it slowly, you instantly recognize the handwriting, and your breath catches in your throat.

Y/n,

 I wish I could just speak to you directly. I know it would do me good to hear your voice right now, Wanda too. We meant it when we said we are incomplete without you. Unfortunately, this note will have to do for now. We understand this mission is very important, and you have to do what you have to do. However, we miss you more than words can describe and want nothing more than for you to come home as soon as you can. Work fast, but please be careful. Your safety is paramount. We will wait however long we must to be with you again.

We love you.

-N

You don’t notice you are crying until a tear has landed on the paper. You quickly swat away the tears, very aware of the archer still in the room with you. You look up and lock eyes with him. By the look on his face, you know that he read it. He must have to know that it was meant for you.

“I’m sorry,” Clint whispers.

Silence stretches between opposite sides of the room. You need to talk. Decisions have to be made, plans discussed and orchestrated. The next exchange is tomorrow night, and they will want your answer by then.

You fold the paper and tuck it beneath your pillow, “I know.”

“For all of it,” he responds, “for dragging you on this mission, for how I acted, for what I did that night.” He’s had time to think, practiced a few speeches in his head. The apology he owes you. The apology he owes Nat. He can’t seem to come up with the right words, but he tries anyway. He knows you need to clear the air, so you can complete the mission and get home where you belong. “None of it was ok,” he clears his throat.

It’s a big change, an almost complete 180. He wouldn’t blame you for not forgiving him. He knows he doesn’t deserve it. He hasn’t earned it, but he wants to.

“Why didn’t you just tell me?” Clint asks, “that night or even after?”

Incredulous, you look across the room, “would you have believed me?”

He’s quiet, contemplating his answer. He wants to say yes, that he would have believed you and reacted differently. If he’s honest though, he doesn’t know. Was he too blinded by his protective instincts to have seen the truth? “I don’t know.”

You nod. You can appreciate his honesty at least. “I was insecure,” you admit, “I was worried that you were right. That my involvement in our relationship was hurting them.” Your hand raises to your chest, running your fingers over the rings. Reminding yourself of the reassurances they promised you.

“I was wrong,” Clint nods towards the note under your pillow, “they’re obviously better off with you than without. I’m sorry I didn’t see it.”

You nod silently. As day turns to night and the sky goes black, you remember the mission and what you have to do tomorrow night. “I have to go,” you state, knowing that he will understand what you mean, “we both know that.”

Clint shakes his head, “I can’t let you.”

Groaning, you roll your eyes, “Clint-“

“Y/n,” he interrupts before you can even say anything, “I can’t. If I send you in alone, Nat will never forgive me.”

“You’re a little late for that, bud,” you retort with a raised brow.

He pauses for a moment, contemplating the cryptic message in your response. “She knows?”

You nod in response.

“Does she know about that night in the hall?” he specifies, “about the bruises?”

You nod again.

He furrows his brow, “but she never said anything.”

“She found out the night before we left for the mission,” you explain, “Wanda too, at the bar.”

Clint’s face falls even more, “was she pissed? Nat?”

A chuckle escapes your throat, “I believe her exact words were ‘I’m gonna kill him.’”

He nods solemnly. He knows he deserves it.

Silence falls once again. You both know what you have to do, though he doesn’t want to admit it.

“I have to go in,” you repeat, “it’s the only way we’re going home.”

Clint nods reluctantly, hoping this won’t be the last nail in his coffin.

~I’ve got a fear, oh, in my blood.~

When Wanda rolls over in the morning, she is met with cold sheets as usual. Natasha left long before for her morning run. The sokovian buries her face in the pillow, inhaling as much of your scent as possible.

Late in the night, she had made her way to Y/n’s room. Unable to sleep until she was wrapped completely in her girlfriend’s bedding. When Natasha had woken with Wanda’s movement, she quickly followed. Lying in Y/n’s bed, they were almost able to trick their brains into believing that she’s here.

As she sits up in the bed, Wanda can’t ignore the sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach. Something doesn’t feel right, but she can’t put a finger on what it is. The worry settles into her bones as she gets up and begins the day.

Maria and Steve are standing in the same spot looking over the same display boards they always are when Natasha makes her way into the command room. Instantly, she can feel the energy is different today.

The pair are tensely focused on the information on the screens, hushed words exchanged quickly with a sense of urgency. Worry pools in the widow’s stomach like it never has before.

“Any news?” she asks as she quickly approaches the pair.

They startle at her sudden entrance. They turn to her, and then quickly look to each other in silent hesitation.

“What’s going on?” Nat asks after they are silent a moment too long for her liking.

Maria takes a deep breath looking to the ex-assassin, “Y/n missed the check in.”

The worry in Natasha’s gut quickly turns to panic, but she tries to remain calm. She can’t help if she can’t maintain control. “When?” her voice is tight. Her jaw clenched.

“Two nights ago,” Steve relents.

“Two nights?!” The Russian can’t control herself as the panic slips into anger, “What do you mean two nights ago?! Why haven’t you done anything?! Why am I just now hearing this?!”

“They had an exchange with the tracksuits the night before last. They were to check in immediately following,” Maria quickly informs her. “There was a possibility the exchange would lead to further interaction with the group. Clint checked in after and confirmed Y/n got the progress with the group.”

“We should have heard from her last night,” Steve added, and the tone of his voice told Natasha all she needed to know.

Y/n has gone dark.

“What about Clint?” she asks quickly.

Maria turns, “we’re trying to reach out now. We’ve been waiting for him to contact us back.”

 “Is he not with her?”

Steve shakes his head, “he said they only agreed to work with her.”

Nat’s stomach drops somehow further than it already had. Immediately thoughts start spiraling in her head.

Clint hates y/n. Is he telling the truth? How much can they trust him? He threatened her. Was he really capable of leaving her in a dangerous position? He hurt her. Could he have put her in harm’s way on purpose?

Is that damn secret gonna cost her and Wanda the love of their lives?

TWO NIGHTS EARLIER

The warehouse is empty when you arrive, as always.

Clint parks, but neither of you exit the car. This could be the last chance to talk before this mission takes a serious turn for you.

“Are you sure?” he asks again. He’s hoping you’ll say no. That this exchange will be just like all the others. They will come, take the shipment and then leave the two of you to make your way back to base together.

“Yes,” you nod. “It’s the in we’ve been waiting for.”

He sighs, “I still say we should wire you.”

This….. again….

“We’ve been working with them for almost six months,” you parrot the same debate you’ve been going through for the past two days. “They’re barely starting to trust us. They’re gonna check for things like a wire. They’re too paranoid not to.”

The archer shakes his head. He hates the plan but knows there is nothing he can do to change it. “You have got to be careful,” he faces you directly, “I won’t be in there to cover your six. Get the information you can and get out as fast as possible. My phone will be in my hands at all times, but don’t try to reach out unless you know you’re alone. Once you’re out, call me. I will meet you whenever and wherever I need to, ok?”

For the first time in months, you look into his eyes and see your friend staring back at you. The guy he’d been before he questioned your involvement with your girlfriends. “Thanks,” you say, actually trusting the words he said to you.

“Let’s get this over with and go home,” he half smiles.

The flash of headlights grab your attention, signaling the arrival of the tracksuits. The two of you exit the car as the three vehicles come to a stop before you. The men start emerging from the cars, and you are met with the usual crew. The last to exit the car is Kazi. The boss’s #2, and the one you were leaving with tonight.

“Long time, no see,” Clint quips as he opens the trunk of the SUV revealing the crates of the substance you are particularly familiar with after months and months of study and handling.

Kazi’s men begin checking the shipment before loading it into their vehicles. The young man in charge approaches you, “I hear you have an answer for me.”

“What’s in it for me?” you bargain, knowing a blind acceptance is suspicious to men who only give when they take first.

Kazi’s lips curl into an amused smirk, “I think you’ll find you’ve been well compensated.” He nods in the direction of Clint and his men.

Once all the goods were transferred, one of their guys pass your partner a large envelope, like they always do at the end of your exchanges. Clint opens and counts the bills, quickly realizing there was more than was typically provided in their previous transactions. The archer looks up to you and nods.

“…and there’s more where that comes from if the boss is impressed.”

You lock eyes with Clint one last time. This is the point of no return. You will officially be on your own. You nod at him, before turning back to Kazi, “well what are we waiting for?”

“Alright,” he grins. He turns towards his car, raising an arm in a silent invitation. Kazi’s guys load into the other two cars and drive off. When you reach the car, he quickly opens the passenger side door for you. You sit down and buckle up as he closes the door and rounds the car.

Clint watches the two of you sit in the car before pulling away to follow the others. Once he can no longer see the taillights, he climbs into the SUV quickly pulling out his phone to check in with the Hill.

~She was carried up

into the clouds high above~

The car ride across town was comfortable enough. Conversation flows pretty easily between you and Kazi. You listen to him explain a little bit about the power structure of the group. He quickly names and describes a handful of the people you were going to meet and work with. He cracks jokes and spills a little bit of gossip amongst the group.

He actually doesn’t seem like that bad of a guy, you think to yourself. You could actually see yourself hanging out with him, if only he wasn’t a criminal.

Eventually he pulls into a parking garage beside what used to be a KB Toy Store. Its only a couple blocks from the abandoned office building you have called home for the past six months. You file that information away, just incase you need to hide quickly.

You exit the car and follow Kazi as he walks to a door on the adjacent wall. They’re steel double doors with large windows in the top half of the door. The view inside is blocked however with several layers of what looks like newspapers.

He stops in front of the door, turning to face you. “I gotta check you first,” he waits for just a moment before elaborating, “can never be too careful.” He chuckles in a way that you know you have no chance of refusing.

Lifting your arms in compliance, “by all means, check away.”

He quickly pats you down quickly until his hand lands on the hand gun strapped to your hip hidden beneath your jacket. He quickly lifts an eyebrow.

You cheekily lift one as well, “can never be too careful.” You smirk, trying to act smug to hide the pounding of your heart.

After a moment, Kazi breaks out a satisfied smile, “boss is gonna love you.” He turns back to the door, knocking three times, pausing for a second, knocking twice, pausing, then knocking three times again. After the sequence, he steps back, and the door is pushed open from the inside.

Kazi leads you through the door and immediately a guy is on you, beginning to pat you down. Kazi holds up his hand, “I already checked her.” He grabs the guys arm and shoves him off you, “she’s clean.”

“Except for the piece on her hip,” a booming voice echoes against the walls. You turn in the direction of the sound and see probably the biggest man you’ve ever seen (with the exception of the hulk) approaching you. You recognize him immediately. Its Fisk, aka Kingpin.

The younger man beside you huffs in amusement, “tell him what you told me.”

“New York’s a big city,” you state confidently, relying on the adrenaline to keep you going, “a girl can never be too careful.”

Fisk cracks smile, “fair enough. Name?”

“Unimportant,” you try to brush off the question.

He fixes you with a stare, “we use names here.”

You suddenly feel rather small under his gaze, “Y/M/N.” Not your official real name that you use, but close enough to not be a lie that could be easily forgotten.

He nods over his shoulder, “right this way, Y/M/N.” He leads you through a short entrance way that you can easily identify as the abandoned toy store. After a moment, you enter a larger room, that looks like a thrift store’s version of a chemistry lab. Tables are covered in tools, test tubes, and large containers of different substances. A wide array of materials, chemicals, powders, unidentifiable liquids and gel like substances. You quickly recognize a few. The one you have provided for the past six months, and others that you learned were often combined with it.

Several men are working meticulously measuring, combining, observing the different ratios as they try to create something. What they are trying to create, you have no idea. They pour over pages and pages of notes.

Kingpin holds up a page that lists detailed instructions for a certain combination of the materials you see scattered about the counters. “This is what we’re wanting,” he offers you the sheet for you to examine more closely, “but these idiots can’t seem to work it out. The subjects don’t survive the first 5 minutes of the transformation.”

At his critique, the men working in the “lab” look up in clear worry.

“Your reputation precedes you,” he taps you lightly on the back, “I hear you’re something of an expert in this area. Maybe you can show this crew how its done?”

You are far from the expert he’s described, but right now, you need to be. Quite literally, your life may depend on it. You may not be an expert, but you have learned quite a lot over the past six months. Enough so that as you glance over the notes quickly, you can almost instantly know what you’re looking at.

It’s a formula for a serum, specifically a very early, rudimentary version of the super soldier serum.

You had become very familiar with it, while studying the component that you have been supplying. Wherever they found these notes, must have been very outdated. This formula didn’t work. A few of the ingredients had later been replaced for better alternatives, some had been dropped altogether because they were not necessary for the serum’s effectiveness.

The biggest problem with this particular formula was that none of the subjects survived. With the perfect ratio, the subject would gain the strength and endurance of a super soldier, but due to unforeseen side effects, it had a very short shelf life. Usually within the following 24 hours, the subject would suddenly seize and eventually succumbing the side effects of the serum.

That’s why they can’t figure it out. The formula was just simply flawed beyond repair.

In an instant, your blood turns cold. The only way out of this building for you is to successfully manufacture the drug. If you did that, who knows how many innocent people will be at risk. Fortunately, quick thinking grants you the best plan of action.

Fix the formula just enough so its successful for a very short amount of time. You don’t need much, just enough to display the effects and get out before the serum kills the subject.

“Well, your problem is that these directions are almost over 100 years old,” you walk to one of the counters. Quickly grabbing a pen, you adjust the ratios, “this was one of the first attempts for the serum. They had to adjust the formula to make it successful.”

Once you are finished writing in the necessary changes, you fully enter the “lab” and begin gathering what you’ll need. The men, who had been working tirelessly, watch in shock as you confidently work circles around them.

This irritates Fisk beyond words, “start taking notes, idiots.” All of them hurriedly grab the closest pen and piece of paper available to them. Their focus then sets directly to you and every move you make.

The creating of the serum takes a few hours, requiring certain periods of heat and cold to activate different components. Once you’re finished, the sun has risen again. Neither you, the other men in the lab, or Kazi have slept at all during the process.

When Kingpin returns in the morning, you have a vial of the perfectly effective serum. You know you need to leave soon, but Fisk insists you stay through the first test.

They lead in a man with his mouth gagged. He is forcefully strapped to a chair for the injection. A part of you pities the man frantically trying to break out of confinement and as far away from your needle as possible. Then you remember, he’s a tracksuit, and the entire city depends on you getting out of here in time to gather the team for a strike.

Once you’ve injected the subject with the serum, it takes only a few seconds to fully work its magic. A small audience has gathered to observe the first trial of this new serum. He begins to thrash violently, even more so than when he was dragged into the room.

You all watch as his muscles swell, until the point a handful of the restraints burst under the force. It takes about 5 minutes for the initial effect to come to a stop, but then, he manages to break free of the restraints that remained like they were nothing. You turn your attention to the others in the room to gage their reactions.

Kingpin slightly smirked with victory. Kazi smiles at you, mentally congratulating himself for being the one to find exactly who they needed to make it work. The other lab workers stare awestruck that in a few hours you had accomplished what they have tried to for the better part of a year.

“Well done,” Fisk is impressed and anxious. He finally has what he needs to push is plan of city wide domination. “Put the formula in writing for our guys, and you are free to go.”

Instantly you do as your told. This new super soldier is a ticking time bomb, and you need to be far away when it explodes. After answering a few questions from the lab workers, you make your exit. Kazi stops you, asking if you need a ride somewhere. When you say that won’t be necessary, his face drops much like a kicked puppy.

…maybe Clint was right. You do have an admirer.

The moment you step foot outside of that store, you walk quickly in the direction of your base. You wait until you are a block away before pulling out your phone and call Clint.

Before he can even say hello, you interrupt him.

“Super Soldier Serum,” you say as soon as he picks up the phone.

“What?” he asks as he watches you walking further away from the building.

“That’s what they’re trying to make,” you continue, “the super soldier serum. They’ve accrued enough materials to inject over two thirds of their organization.”

When you round the corner, leaving Clint’s line of vision, he quickly makes his way down the building he was currently in, and he begins to make his way to meet you at the base. “With kind of man power…” he thinks out loud.

“They could level the city,” you finish the sentence for him. “I had to fix their formula-“

“You gave them the recipe?!”

You roll your eyes even though he can’t see you, “not exactly. I had to give them something to get out of there. I gave them one of the first, unsuccessful, instructions. The subjects won’t survive the next 24 hours.”

The archer can sense where this info goes to, “how long do we have?”

“Don’t know. Its different with each person,” you explain, “could be very late tonight or he could already be dead.”

Walking faster now, Clint feels a new level of urgency, “we need to get to the compound now.”

“and raid the store front. They’re already working on the next round of injections,” you warn, “They could inject a large number of them before they realize their poisoning themselves. At that point, they’ll be so pissed they won’t care what they do in the city.”

“Meet me at base.”

“A block and a half away,” you confirm, walking a little quicker desperate to get there now. So busy relaying the information, you don’t notice the two guys trailing you from across the street. Both are tracksuits; they sneak behind you waiting for their shot.

You’ve only just hung up the phone and turn down an alley to reach the back entrance of your building when a sharp pain pierces your abdomen. There’s no sound. No gunshot. No disturbance; nothing that should have stopped you on your way home. However, the next thing you know, you’re on the ground laying in a quickly growing pool of blood.

~If you’ve bled, I’ll bleed the same.~

“What’s wrong?” Wanda asks frantically entering the command room. All of the intense thoughts from everyone in the room had cut through any train of thought she had. Something is clearly happening, but the thoughts overlap and intertwine so much that she can’t make sense of any of it.

Nat turns to her girlfriend, “Y/n missed her check in two nights ago.”

The sokovian’s eyes go wide as she looks frantically between all three of them, waiting for more. “What?”

“She didn’t check in that night; there was a possibility that she wouldn’t. If she missed it, she was supposed to check in the next day, yesterday,” Maria quickly explains. “She didn’t.”

“and Clint?” the witch asks. One of the tings that worried her the most is that y/n was out there with him.

Steve responds, “we’re trying to reach out to him now. They were separated. He was supposed to check in after she got out sometime yesterday.”

“He hasn’t answered his damn phone,” Nat growls.

The four of them are in deep conversation, searching for any traffic cams or security cameras with in a five block radius. They’re so deep in conversation, the miss entirely the entrance of the very person they were trying to contact.

“Why aren’t they together?”

“Because I was sent to assemble back up,” a voice immediately sends their attention straight to the door. All of their eyes land on the archer.

A flurry of emotions race through Natasha and Wanda, fear, confusion, shock, panic, and lastly pure hot anger.

They haven’t seen him since that night at the bar, since they found out how he had hurt their girl. On sight, the betrayal and anger bubble to the surface. Wanda’s hands and eyes glow red unintentionally. Natasha immediately walks up to him.

The widow grabs his bicep the same way he had grabbed y/n. With everything in her, she swings him around to the closest wall. When his back hits the wall, he winces in pain.

The others are shocked still at Natasha’s violently angry outburst. “Hey Nat, cool it,” Steve attempts to deescalate the situation and break up the fight, but Clint holds out a hand, stopping him before he can really intervene.

“No, Cap,” he half groans, half whispers.

Natasha is not oblivious to the exchange. “No, cause you know you deserve it; is that what you did to y/n? Is that how you grabbed her?”

“Yes,” he admits to his friend’s face.

Natasha grabs him by the collar, pulling him away from the wall, just to slam him back into it, “how does that feel?” She only gives him two seconds to respond. When he doesn’t, she repeats the movement: pulling him away and shoving him back. “…and you deserve it. Don’t you? You deserve and she never did.”

Clint can only nod, “I do deserve it, but Nat this has to wait-“

She pushes him against the wall again, “Tell me, did you even give her a chance to defend herself before you started throwing her around?”

He has no words for his actions, no excuse. He sighs, “no.”

Natasha leans closer until she is in his face, “then why should I give you that curtesy?”

“Because Y/n needs us right now,” Clint states urgently.

She wants to keep going, wanted to punch him, give him a share of what he had inflicted on y/n, but at the sound of her name she pauses for a moment. She pushes off him, unwilling to risk y/n for her anger.

“Where is she?”

 “Hiding near our base. I had to leave her and come get the team,” he looks over each of them quickly. “We have to go raid the old KB Toy Store and get back to her as soon as we possibly can.”

Maris from the place she had been observing quietly, steps up and asks, “why the KB Toy Store?”

“The tracksuits are using it as their front. Y/n got in, and they’re trying to make the super soldier serum,” he locks eyes with Steve for a moment. “She had to help them to get out of there. She gave them a formula that lasts max 24 hours before it kills the soldier. He wants inject a large number of his men within the next few hours. We have to stop them, before they realize they’re dying and take it out on civilians.” Maria quickly jots down everything that he says, so she can begin to organize a team.

“Where is she?” Natasha hisses, “why didn’t you come back together?”

He opens his mouth to speak, but his voice hesitates to form words. “She told me to leave her and come back for her. She wouldn’t have made the trip.”

“Why?” its Wanda who asks this time. Her eyes have begun to fade, but her hands still glow bright red.

Clint looks between the two of them anxiously, “because she got hit. GSW to the abdomen.”

Once again, rage erupts in Natasha, “you left her out there?” She takes him by the shirt and throws him on the ground. Kneeling over him, she only gets a few good punches in before Steve is pulling her off of him.

Wanda steps between them, while Steve continues to hold back Natasha until she has calmed down as much is possible considering the current state of events.

Clint shakily raises to his feet, np sporting a split lip and an already swelling face, “she made me come back for help.”

“How can we believe you?” Wanda questions. He had hurt her before, in her mind, it is entirely possible he would do it again.

“Because she gave me this,” he reaches into his pocket and produces a necklace, but not just any necklace. He holds up y/n’s necklace with two rings hanging like charms on a bracelet, the one they had given her as a promise of her place in their hearts.

In an instant, the necklace is wrapped in red light, ripped from his grasp, and flies to Wanda’s outreached hand.

She hates the thought of him having this in his possession. It was meant to stay on y/n’s neck always until they present her with a ring of her own.

“This doesn’t prove anything,” Wanda says through gritted teeth.

The archer sighs, wondering what it will take for them to listen and heed his warnings. An idea come to mind, “read my mind, Wanda. See the memory for yourself. If that will convince you that we need to move fast.”

Wanda closes the distance between them, and she wants to use her powers to throw him against the wall as Nat did. But she wants y/n home and safe more. Raising a hand, she taps the side of his head. She slips with him deep into his subconscious and more specifically, the memory in question.

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

Clint never heard a gun shot. He just rounded the corner to find Y/n on the ground rapidly losing blood.

“Y/n?” he runs over quickly. When he kneels down and sees you’re awake enough to talk to him, he feels a moment of relief, but only briefly. Taking in the blood loss, he knows you need help immediately, “its ok, y/n. You’re gonna be ok. I’m gonna get you out of here.”

He quickly does his best stop the flow of blood. He rips the bottom of your shirt to pack the wound, and another longer strip he wraps all the way around your stomach to keep as much pressure on the wound as possible.

Even despite the blood loss, you have enough cognitive function to think clearly about the situation, “Clint, you gotta go.”

“We will, give me one more second, then we’re on the move,” he continues to work on the improvised medical attention, frantically doing everything he can to get you well and stable enough to hurry across town.

“Clint, we’ll never make it,” you shake your head, “if this was Kingpin, he’ll have people, maybe even super soldiers all over the place canvasing the city searching for me. You need to go get back up and stop him before he succeeds.”

“No,” he shakes his head stubbornly, “I gotta get you back to Nat.”

“This is how you do that, Clint,” you try to reason, the clock is winding down. It may already have ran out. You try again, “I won’t make it across the city. I’m a breathing bread crumb trail that with lead them straight to you. You can come back for me.”

He halts his movements for a split second to look at you, “what would I even say to them? If I come back alone, they won’t believe me. They’ll think I left you for dead.”

You have to admit he has a point there. He needs proof. Something that will make them know to listen to what he has to say. With shaky hands covered in blood, you reach up to unclasp your necklace. Once its off, you clasp it again, and hold it out for him to take.

“Take this.”

“No,” Clint denies.

You don’t give in, “give it to them, they’ll listen if you have it.”

Tying one last knot in the make shift bandage, he’s almost ready to set you on your feet the best you could manage. “Give it to them yourself.”

“Clint please,” you beg with a despair in your voice that cracks his resolve, “I didn’t get to say goodbye.” Tears roll down your cheeks, suddenly facing a fear you never knew you had, “please, I can’t die, Clint. I can’t die without... I never got to say goodbye.” Your hand shakes as you hold up the necklace once more, “please. It’s the only chance I’ll see them again.”

He finally relents, taking the necklace from your grasp. He quickly looks around the alley, trying to fins a place that leaves at least somewhat hidden. He quickly lifts you and sits you beside the dumpster about five yards away. He finds the remnants of a cardboard box. Takin the larger pieces, he leans them over you and against the side of the dumpster. “Stay here,” he urges you, like there’s anywhere you could go. “This should keep you pretty hidden,” he says to you before placing the last piece over your face, “just incase they come back. Try to stay quiet and awake. We’ll come get you as soon as we can, I promise. Just stay with us.”

After that he covers your face, like he did with the rest of your body. Clint stands quickly reaching for his phone so he can call for backup, but he can’t seem to find it. He takes off down the alley without it. He doesn’t have time to look for it.

Y/n doesn’t have time for him to look for it.

Dodging the tracksuits while traveling across the city, proved to be much harder than Clint had anticipated. Several times, he had to hide low for a while, until the person moved on. All in all, it’s the next morning by the time he runs the compound doors.

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

Wanda exits Clint’s memories and is thrusted back into the present. Immediately, her face crumples, and she buries it in her hands. She pivots falls back into Natasha’s embrace.

~If you’re scared, I’m on my way.~

No one needs to ask what that means. Everyone knows that Clint must be telling the truth.

“We have to go,” Wanda lifts her head, “We have to go now.” Natasha nods, pulling the younger woman close to her again.

A brief lock of eyes between Natasha and Steve is what finally tips the ball into rolling. The super soldier immediately sends out an urgent message announcing an emergency mission. Everyone is to suit up immediately and report to the command room right away.

Natasha and Wanda are the first to make it to the command, wanting no needing to be out there right now. Clint is a close second.

When he enters, the couple were staring at a monitor. A video clip plays on repeat. It’s a bit below average in quality, but they don’t care. They watch you exit the front and walk down the sidewalk until you walk out of frame.

 They barely spare the archer a glance, before turning back to the video.

“I’m sure you don’t want anything to do with me, and I totally get that,” he pauses briefly as he formulates his next sentence in his head, “I just need to say I’m so-“

“You can apologize after we save her, and not a moment before,” Natasha cocks an eyebrow. Clint has come to know that facial expression well over the years, but never has it been directed at him. “Understood?”

He nods in solemn confirmation. They wait for the rest of the team, filled with anxious nerves and deathly silence.

Around 10 minutes later, the entire team is in the command room. Steve explains briefly the rolls for each person. You were splitting into groups, each group going after their respective objectives.

The vast majority of the group will be raiding KB Toy Store.

While Natasha, Wanda, and Clint will be on the second objective:  locate Y/n and get her back to the compound as fast as possible. Wanda and Nat were assigned this group for the obvious reasons. Clint was chosen solely because he knows where he hid her. Not to mention that he volunteered himself for this team.

They take a helicopter across the city to avoid the delay of New York traffic. They landed on the rooftop of a building equal distance from KB Toy Store and where Clint left y/n. Everyone pours out and runs to do what they need to, knowing how time sensitive the whole situation is.

~Did you run away?

Did you run away? I don’t need to know.~

Clint leads Natasha and Wanda to the alley behind base.

When they turned down the alley, neither of them saw y/n, but they did see the rather large blood mark that still stains the concrete below. Sensing their panic, “Its ok, I moved her.”

The three of them run to the far side of the dumpster only to be met with several pieces of cardboard with some blood stains.

“I left her right here!” the archer exclaims. He told her to stay put, that he was coming back. A nagging feeling in the bag of his throat suggests that maybe she was picked up. However, they have no clues as to who would have done that. It could be anybody, the tracksuits, an ambulance, some other random stranger that just happened across a pretty helpless woman.

Wanda takes a deep breath trying to remain as calm as possible, even when it feels like her world is crumbling in front of her eyes. “I can’t feel her,” she’s unable to hear y/n’s thoughts.

“She might be unconscious,” Natasha reassures Wanda and honestly herself too. The widow is in deep contemplation of where y/n may have gone. “How far could she have gone if she left on her own?” Nat asks.

Clint shakes his head slightly, “not very far. I had to carry her from here to there,” pointing between the large blood stain and the side of the dumpster.

“So we start close and work our way out,” the widow takes a look at the surrounding buildings, “is she familiar with any buildings in this area?”

“Yeah, this building is our base,” he nods in the direction of the base. “but I doubt she could manage to get herself in there in the state she was in.”

“Have to start somewhere,” Nat tries to pull open the door, but is met with a resistance that will not budge.

“Wait,” Clint quickly comes up behind her holding a key, “we’re gonna need this.”

Nat takes a step back so he can get to the door, “does she have a key?”

“She does,” he turns the key and pulls the door open, “but I don’t know if it was on her person.

 Upon entering, Nat and Wanda understand why this is the place is a perfect base while undercover. It doesn’t look like anyone has been here in years and years.

“Ok there are 14 floors,” Clint states, “our set up is on the eighth. We’d probably get the best results if we split up”

“Agreed,” Nat nods. “So, here’s the plan. Clint, go to the top floor and work your way down. Wanda, start from the ground floor and work your way up. I’ll start at 5 and work my way up. Everyone ok with that plan?”

Wanda and Clint quickly agree, and the three of them scatter. Each going to their separate way to search for y/n.

The archer is intimately familiar with the building so he quickly clears the top floors, making it all the way to the eighth floor. Once there, he runs into their setup hoping y/n has somehow managed to get herself up there. Unfortunately, the room is empty. Still determined to find her, he sits at the desk and begins searching through the security feed of the building, hoping it can show him where she went.

Natasha floors 5, 6, and 7. As she sweeps through 8, she hears what sounds like the typing of a keyboard. She follows the sound to a set of double doors; one of which is propped open. She takes a deep breath before entering the room and aiming at the room’s occupant. All she finds is Clint sitting at a desk. Lowering her weapon, she relaxes a bit.

“Have you already checked every floor above us?” she asks. All she gets a nod in response. Quickly she does the math in her head. How had he cleared 6 floors while she had only made it through 3? “… and you’re positive she’s not up there?”

Clint doesn’t even turn his eyes from the computer screens, “Nat, I have lived in this building for the last 6 months. The floors are clear.”

The widow approaches the desk and peers over his shoulder. Her eyes go wide when she sees the security footage he is looking through. He has all angles of the building. If y/n was anywhere in the building, they should be able to  find her with the footage.

Wanda searches floors 1, 2, and 3 with no luck. She’s trying to move as fast as she can, while also being as thorough as possible. Its that thoroughness that keeps her from clearing the rooms as quickly as she likes.

Once she is certain the third floor is empty, she enters the stair well to move up to the fourth. She takes the first set of steps two at a time. When she turns to raise the next set of steps, she freezes mid-step, and stares.

“Y/n?”

At the top of the steps, you lay unconscious, leaning against the wall.

“Y/N!”

Immediately, Wanda flies up the stairs and drops next to you. She takes you into her arms. She cradles your head in one arm, while the other hand strokes your cheek. Your skin is ghostly pale, a clear sign of the amount of blood you’ve lost.

“Come on, detka,” Wanda calls to you, trying anything to wake you. She switches from stroking your cheek to patting it. “Please lyubov, wake up,” she desperately wants to see your eyes. “Open your eyes,” she tries to shake you awake, but your eyes remain closed, “Y/n please.”

Her voice waivers in terror. Pressing two fingers to the soft spot just below your jaw, she prays to feel a pulse. For a moment, she feels nothing and fears the worst. “No please,” her lip quivers in anguish, “… please detka, no.”

Wanda presses harder, willing herself to find it, and she does. Its weak and frighteningly slow, but its there. She’ll take it. She immediately raises her hand to press the com in her ear, “I found her! I’ve got her. We’re in the stairwell between the third and fourth floor, far east side of the building.”

On the eighth floor, Nat and Clint jump up from the desk, sprinting out of the room. “Is she…” the widow can’t bring herself to finish the question.

“She’s alive,” Wanda answers, not needing words to know what Nat meant. “She’s unconscious and nonresponsive, but she has a pulse,” Wanda looks up from your face to look towards the door she believes they will come through, “she needs medical attention now.”

“Get her to the chopper,” Steve’s voice rings through the com, “and take her to the compound.”

She shakes her head, even though no one can see her, “I don’t think she’ll make it to the chopper-“

“Wanda?”

Your girlfriend’s attention snaps down to you. She had been so busy trying to communicate with the others, she had missed you opening your eyes and staring up at her. Tears of relief flood her face, and she smiles down at you, “hi detka.” She cups your cheek gently stroking it with her thumb.

Leaning ever so softly into her touch, you try to return her smile, “I love you.”

A happy laugh falls from her lips, “I love you too.” She leans down to press her lips to yours for the first time in many months. Her lips are soft against your dry, chapped ones, but it’s still the best feeling you’ve had since the beginning of the mission.

She pulls back to look at you again.

“Which stairwell?” Nat’s voice pops into her ear, bringing Wanda back into the moment.

“There’s three on that side of the building,” Clint elaborates.

The witch brings her hand back to her com, “the northeast corner. She’s awake; she’s talking.”

“Nat?” you ask weakly.

“She’s here,” Wanda nods down at you, “Nat’s coming; she’s on her way.” She never released her com, so the team can hear her reassure you.

As she continues running through the building, Nat has an idea, “Wanda, give her your com.” The sokovian smiles to herself, knowing what Natasha is wanting to do.

You watch her rip the tech out of her ear and transfer it to yours. She holds the button, so they can hear you just as much as you can hear them. There’s only silence for a moment, then Nat’s voice fills your ears.

“Detka?”

It’s only one simple word, but it brings tears of joy to your eyes, “Natasha?”

“Hi lyubov,” you can hear the smile in her voice, despite her rapid breathing from running, “I’m almost there, love. I’m coming.”

“I love you,” you whisper, as the tears spill from the corner of your eyes.

“I love you too,” she immediately repeats back to you, “just hang on a little longer for me. We’re gonna get you out of here. Ok? You’re gonna be ok, just hang on.” Her voice is laced with urgency.

“Ok,” you promise.

 There is more talking. Something about someone leaving the raid, to take you back to the compound immediately. You can barely make it out as your awareness begins to slip again.

Your eyelids are heavy, and despite your effort they begin to droop. Wanda notices this and begins shaking you again, “stay awake detka. I need you to stay awake right now.” You can only nod, as she gently strokes your colorless cheek.

The door to the stairwell flies open.

Natasha barrels through it, with Clint close behind. Wanda smiles up at her in clear relief to be with you again. Without pause, the widow falls to the floor next to you on the opposite side of Wanda. Her hands cradle your face, and her smile beams down at you, “Hey lyubov.”

“Hi.”

“If you ever leave without saying goodbye again, you are in so much trouble,” Nat playfully scolds you.

“I’m sorry,” you whimper at the pain you must have caused them.

They both shake their heads firmly. “Shhhhh,” Natasha leans forward to press a long kiss to your forehead.

From the doorway, Clint watches the reunion. A clear display of how wrong he has read the situation for the past year.

Natasha rests her forehead against yours, relishing your presence. Wanda pulls both of your heads close to her chest. They cling to you, like you might disappear if they don’t hold you tight enough. Not that you were complaining at all.

“Hey love birds.”

Wanda and Nat break from the embrace to face the door.

Tony now stands in the doorway behind Clint with only his face not covered by his suit, “I heard someone needed a lift.”

The two women look back down at you. “Tony’s gonna fly you to the compound,” Nat lightly scratches your scalp.

“We’re right behind you,” Wanda promises. You nod in confirmation. You don’t really want to separate from them right now, but you know that you can’t delay treatment any longer.

Natasha leans down to kiss you. She nestles her face in your neck briefly, trying to soak up as much you as she can before you part again. Once she leans back, Wanda takes her place. She whispers sweet nothings in your ear, then brings her lips to yours.

After they’ve said goodbye, they help Tony gather you in his arms. He lifts up and begins flying to the nearest exit. Once you’re outside, he rises and propels the two of you through the air.

“So, please tell me,” he says as you travel above the city, “exactly how did you manage to land not one, but two hot women? What’s your secret? …asking for a friend, of course.”

You chuckle despite your current condition, “I think I’ll ask Pepper about this ‘friend’ of yours first.”

~If you ran away,

If you ran away, come back home.~

The room is quiet. The only sounds heard are your measured breaths and the beeping of your heart monitor.

Nat and Wanda have not left your bedside, since you all returned to the compound yesterday. You haven’t woken up since the surgery to remove the bullet fragments in your abdomen. Cho has assured them that you are stable and expected to make a full recovery. All you needed now was rest while your body mended itself back together.

Wanda sits near your head. One hand holds yours close to her chest, while the other delicately strokes your face. After two blood transfusions and an iv for rehydration, your skin is full of color once again. Your cold, chapped lips are now soft and full. The change is comforting to both of your girlfriends. The y/n they know slowly returning to them.

Natasha is resting in a seat on your other side. She rests an elbow on your bed, propping up her head. Her other hand firmly grips yours on the bed. She’s fighting to keep her eyes open. The adrenaline has faded and exhaustion of not only the day before, but also the constant worry of the past six months finally catches up to her. Her eyes close despite her best effort.

They sit like that and wait and wait for you to wake up once again.

A soft knock on the door pulls Wanda’s attention from you. Natasha however has managed to doze off. Steve enters carrying two plates with a sandwich and some carrots on each.

“I brought you guys something to eat, when you’re up for it,” he sets the plates on the small side table near the end of your bed.

“Thank you,” Wanda smiles appreciatively.

Steve nods, “any changes?”

The sokovian deflates slightly, “not yet. Cho said it should be any time now.” She looks over your face, “just up to her now.”

He nods. He’s glad to have you back. The change in Wanda and Natasha is tangible. Your presence beginning to return them to their normal selves. He knows the moment you’re awake and well, they will finally be ok again.

“We got them,” he says, remembering part of the reason he ventured in here. “The tracksuits,” he continues, “we took them down before they were able to inject any others with the serum. Thanks to her.” He nods in your direction.

Wanda smiles proudly, “she’s pretty great right?” The super soldier agrees with a smile. “… though I may be a little partial,” she playfully adds.

“Rightfully so,” he takes one last glance at you, “keep me posted about any updates. Also, let me know if you need anything.”

“We will,” she smiles, “thank you, Steve.”

With one last nod, he slips from the room. Leaving the three of you in silence again.

Wanda’s attention returns to you. She hums softly and her fingers find their way to your cheek again.

Another hour passes in this way. You and Natasha both sleep, while Wanda memorizes every one of your features.

She’s so deep in thought, that she thinks she imagined it when your brow furrowed slightly. She continues watching as you lay still again. When your eyelids begin to flutter, she knows she didn’t imagine it.

“Natasha,” she reaches over to wake her.

The Russian startles awake. She lifts her head, looking at Wanda, then following her gaze to you just in time to see your eyes flutter open. “Lyubov,” she stands quickly to lean over you.

You blink against the harsh light as your eyes adjust. You are faintly aware of someone calling your name as you slowly take in your surroundings.

“Y/n?”

Looking up, you find Wanda and Nat looking down at you in hopeful hesitation. Their smiles only grow when you fully lock eyes with them.

“Hi-“ you try to say, but your voice is so dry. You’re sent into a small coughing fit.

Almost instantly, Wanda produces a cup of water from somewhere. “Here,” she offers bringing a straw to your lips. You drink greedily, taking large mouthfuls until your throat is no longer burning.

“Thank you,” you rest back into the  bed, and a sharp stabbing sensations blooms on your stomach. You wince and try to lay as still as possible.

They notice this of course. “Are you in pain?” Natasha asks. When you nod, she reaches for the call button on the side of your bed.

A nurse quickly enters the room.

“She’s hurting, can you give her anything?”

The nurse nods, “I’ll be right back.” He then exits the room swiftly.

Once alone again, they turn back to you.

“The tracksuits?” you ask. You need to know that the danger has been neutralized.

“Gone,” Wanda smiles, “the team took them down before any more of them were injected. SHIELD confiscated all of their materials. Its all locked away. Everything has been taken care of.”

You nod gratefully, but worry and guilt stirs within you, “I didn’t want to help them.” You look between them, hoping they will believe you, “I had to give them something, but I didn’t want to-“

“Hey, hey,” Natasha hushes you, “its ok, you did the right thing. You bought us time to take them down.”

Wanda quickly jumps on the end of Nat’s words, “the mission was a success, and that’s all because of you.” They gently soothe you until your worries are squashed.

They’ve finally calmed you down when there’s a knock at the door. You all look up to see Yelena smiling in the doorway.

“Hey, you’re awake,” she enters and stops at the foot of your bed, “how are you feeling?”

You tilt a bit, “well I’ve been better.”

The blonde nods with a smile, “yeah, I bet.”

There’s a moment of silence, and the energy in the room feels awkward. No one quite knowing what to say. This is the most Yelena has spoken to you in you can’t remember how long. Her friendly tone throws you off a bit, but it is a welcome change.

“I need to apologize,” Yelena finally breaks the silence. By her face and tone, you can tell that she knows about your relationship. Her guilt is clear on her face.

“Its ok-“ you try to say, but she cuts you off.

“No, its not,” she stands resolute, “I never should have treated you that way. You didn’t do anything wrong. It was so uncool of me to assume the worst without knowing the whole story.” As she speaks, you can feel the sincerity of her words, “you were my friend, you deserved better than that. I know I don’t deserve it, but I would like to be your friend again, someday.”

You smile. This is the Yelena you have missed since she became suspicious of you. “Is this the part where you give me the shovel talk? ‘You better not hurt my sister or else!’?”

The blonde looks between her sister and Wanda, “I’ve been told I used up all of my protective sister speeches.” She pauses for a moment, “… plus, I trust you not to hurt her.”

Her words hit you straight to your heart. Emotion starts to gather in your eyes; you lightly squeeze Nat’s hand prompting her to bring yours to her lips. She leaves a tender kiss on the back of your hand.

Yelena takes this as her cue to leave you three to each other. “I’ll get out of here, so you can rest,” she smiles to each of you, “if you need anything, you know where to find me.”

“Thank you, Yelena,” you say. She gives you one last half smile before slipping back into the hallway.

Once alone again, you look up to them and sigh, “I missed you so much.”

“We missed you too,” Wanda leans down to kiss you lightly, “more than you know.”

Natasha then leans up to press her lips to yours. She’s happy not only that you’re home, but you’ll also be treated the way you deserved to be from the beginning.

“Am I interrupting?” a familiar voice asks from the doorway.

“Yes,” Natasha grumbles and breaks the kiss to acknowledge the new visitor.

 The three of you find Clint standing awkwardly with flowers in his hands, but you don’t notice those. You are too preoccupied by his appearance. His face is all beat up. A busted lip, swollen eye, and a litany of bruises adorn his face.

“Woah, what happened to you?” you ask. None of those injuries had been there the last time you saw Clint, when he hid you beside the dumpster. You know he had been there when they found you, but you never saw him, too concerned reuniting with your girlfriends and trying to maintain consciousness.

“Nothing I didn’t deserve.”

He steps into the room. “These are for you,” he places the flowers on the side table next to two plates of food you are just noticing for the first time. Were those for Nat and Wanda? When was the last time they ate?

He then stands looking between the three of you. Wanda and Natasha are very much still angry with him. They barely spare him a glance. Natasha specifically fighting to keep her hands to herself.

“I want to apologize,” he starts, “to all of you. I’m sorry for dragging Y/n on that mission, for all that time you suffered being apart. Nat, I’m sorry I didn’t just come to you and ask what was going on. Y/n, I’m especially sorry for lashing out at you. That night in the hallway…”

At the mention of the incident, both Wanda and Nat snap their focus on him. Their need to protect you pushing itself right to the front of their brains.

“… it was uncalled for,” he finishes, “and way out of line. I don’t expect or deserve your forgiveness, but if there is anything I can ever do to make up for some of the suffering I’ve caused, I will do it without question.” Your girlfriends don’t say anything; they just return their attention to you.

“Just you wait,” you break the silence, “once I’m cleared, we’re gonna spar, and I will not be pulling my punches.” Despite the anger they still feel, your remark brings an amused smirk to their faces.

Clint chuckles lightly, “I think that’s more than fair.”

Just then the nurse finally returns with the medication to help with your pain.

“I’m gonna step out,” the archer says, “I’ll see you around.” Without anything further, he exits the room.

The nurse approaches the side of your bed, and Natasha steps back to give him room to work. “Alright Agent Y/L/N,” he adjusts your iv and begins to push the medication into the line, “this should help with your pain. It has a sedative effect, so any drowsiness is completely normal.”

You nod as you feel the effects of the drug throughout your body.

Once he is finished, he resets your iv with fluids, gathers the discarded vial of medication and makes his exit, “if you need anything, just press the call button.” With that he is gone.

Your girlfriends settle back beside you like they were when you were asleep. Nat runs her fingers through you hair, while Wanda takes your hand between both of hers. You relax back into the bed as the medication fully sets in. Your side no longer hurts, and your brain feels a bit fuzzy.

Your thumb runs across a ring on Wanda’s finger, and she is reminded of the item in her pocket.

“I have something for you,” she says softly, reaching into her pocket. You furrow your brow curiously. When she holds up the necklace with their rings, you can only smile. She reaches around your head to put it back in its place, and you lift your head to give her more room. “There,” she says once it is secured around your neck.

Nat reaches and adjusts the rings until they are centered on your chest. She fixes you with a stare, “if you ever take it off again, you’re sleeping on the couch.”

A genuine laugh bubbles up your throat, “I won’t.” Your eyes feel heavy once again. The longer the drug is in you, the more it works its magic.

“Sleep,” the widow urges you, “you need it to heal.”

“We’ll be here when you wake up,” Wanda promises, “sleep now.”

Unable to fight the drowsiness, you relent, “ok.” Though you catch sight of something, right before you can close your eyes, “will you do me a favor?”

“Anything detka,” they agree before you even ask.

You smile cheekily, “eat those sandwiches before I wake up again.”

Now, they are the ones laughing. Nat rolls her eyes but agrees, “ok.” She resumes playing with your hair, while Wanda hums quietly again.

 The combination quickly drifts you off to sleep again.

~Just come home.~

Learning Curve

Series Master List

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

…so they keep telling me my taglist is too long, and I’m not allowed to tag that many people in a post, SO I’m gonna try to tag the rest in the comments. If you know a way around the 50 tag limit, let a sister know please 🙃

tag-list: @simp4nat @mostlymarvelsstuff @youralphawolf72 @originallovementality @an-evergreen-rose @mmmmokdok​ @localarcherwriter​ @boowhobabe​ @womenarehotsstuff​ @gay-trash-in-a-paperbag​ @lifeontop​ @wandamaximoff-simp​ @kaitlynroseb​ @diablloblood​ @ang3lmask​ @marvelwomen-simp​ @nightimemommy​ @smromanoff @nothisismax​ @splatasha-jumpinoff @natashaswifeu​ @nattyswidow​ @dumpaccdontmindme​ @natty-taffy​ @iliketozoneout​ @nowthisisliving27​ @theoowo @tvseries-writings​ @trikruismybitch​ @s1ut4nat @xinied @souanick @melatonindaydreamz @angel-of-snow @chailivi @lainjupi @gay-fandom-menace @trashbod @lonewalker17 @daenerys713 @tigerlillyruiz @winters-witch-bitch @wizardofstories​ @karmasgxrl​ @kyoka-jirou​ @m-r-nicely​ @marvelfan-2022 @its-just-greek @anonreader346 @justarandomreaderxoxo​ ​ @smallworld123 @finleyfray​ @maernys @loveshineslikethesky @peachesandhoneyb @danicarpediem @ministark @imthenatynat @bapplenana @alwaysgoodnight @oh-thats-cute @jowshuaayee

***if your url is not listed above or in the comments below and you would like to be added to the taglist, please go to the series master list and comment there. ​Its easier for me to have all the tag requests in one location. Thank you, y’all are the best 🥰

[prettygoododds]

Thanks @wellbelesbian and @artsyunderstudy for the tags

Friday is Hockey Fic day so I’ll give you a sneak peek at what is to come *smirks in intended pun*

“This mole right here,” I say, as I thumb over said mole on his collarbone. “It has driven me mental since the first time I laid eyes on it.”

“What? Last night when I had the gull to sleep without a shirt on in your bed?” He asks with a laugh.

“No,” I lean in and kiss the spot I’m referring to. “The first time we got into it on the ice. I grabbed your sweater and pulled. I spotted it right away and nearly lost all my senses. I wondered what other treasures laid hidden beneath your uniform and pads. My dreams couldn’t prepare me for the real thing. You are a sight, Simon.”

I’m still looking at his chest when I feel his fingers softly touch my chin, raising it up so he can lean down and kiss me. Claiming my mouth with his, as if there was any doubt to whom my body belonged to. He’s still touching me softly, but his mouth, oh his mouth, is doing the filthiest things to mine. Licking and biting. I’ll be bruised for days.

I love it.

He has one hand firmly planted on my jaw, moving me how he wants. The other has made its way down to my trousers and I can feel him unbuckling my belt with one hand. Before I know it, he has it undone and is sliding it through my loops in one fast motion, making a snapping sound as it leaves the final loop.

It is the single sexiest thing I’ve ever witnessed.

“Fuck,” I mutter into his mouth.

“That’s the idea,” he grins at me.

It’s probably the longest chapter I’ve ever written and the most in-depth smut. It’ll fine, I’m fine. Thanks @dohrnaira for reading through it and settling most my fears.

Tags before I spiral: @ic3-que3n @dohrnaira @thewholelemon @facewithoutheart @imagineacoolusername @shemakesmeforget @ivelovedhimthroughworse @ionlydrinkhotwater @rimeswithpurple @aristocratic-otter @cutestkilla @blackberrysummerblog @nausikaaa @supercutedinosaurs @nightimedreamersworld @valeffelees @iamamythologicalcreature @shrekgogurt @ileadacharmedlife @martsonmars @you-remind-me-of-the-babe

#work in progresss wednesday #prettygoododdsfic #prettygoododds #sugar we’re going down swingin #simon snow #baz pitch #carry on fandom #simon snow series #snobaz #carry on series #simon and baz #snowbaz #simon baz #hockey fic #or should i say hickey fic

[marbled-polecat]

20 Questions for Writers

Thanks for the tag @cacodaemonia I think I've done this one too, but some things have changed because I've written more. :D

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

I have 97 works posted on ao3. About 15 of them are fics and the rest are art, ficlets, drabbles, or combinations.

2. What's your total AO3 word count?

My total count is 257,934 with nearly 100k for this year already!

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Star Wars, mostly The Clone Wars, but also The Bad Batch, SW Legends, and combinations.

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

the longest klick (TBB, Mayday&/Crosshair)

say you feel the same way too (TCW, Echo/Fives)

cabin fever (Star Wars, Cody/Obi-Wan)

codpiece chaos (TCW, Echo/Fives)

nearly a skywalker (TCW, Gen, lots of Rex!)

5. Do you respond to comments?

Yes! Sometimes it just takes me a while.

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Hmmm, I tend to not write fics that end angsty. I usually like to have my angst with a happy ending. I honestly can't think of any... *shurg*

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Ummm, most of them???Maybe the longest klick because Mayday deserves so much better? I mean, they all do, but he just pulls at my heart strings so heavily.

8. Do you get hate on fics?

No yet! *crosses fingers*

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

Heh, heh, heh, I doooo! It's mostly clone/clone and I give them a hard time *snickering*, but I did write Ahsoka and an OC, a while back. I've never posted it and I'm not sure I ever will. I've got to get everything else out of my hear first.

10. Do you write crossovers?

Other than within Star Wars? Nope, not yet.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

*knocks on wood again* Not yet!

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Nope, but that would be really cool!

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

I have and it was a hoot to write. <3

14. What’s your all time favorite ship?

Probably Echo/Fives, but Codywan was my gateway drug to tcw. I think Finn/Poe was the first Star Wars ship though.

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

Want to finish? Uhhh, all of them, but the 'want to finish' and the 'probably never will' are two separate piles.

16. What are your writing strengths?

Not my wrists. XP Ummm, I really like to do research and try to make Star Wars things seem more plausible. Is that a strength? *shrug*

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

Writing in the wrong tense for paragraphs or even pages without realizing it. Typing.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

I like to write bits and pieces of Mando'a and other Star Wars languages (some I make up), but unless I have the other person confused and then the whole thing translated, I feel like it's harder to read.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

Pacific Rim (never published) ... although, now that I think about it, I could just post it anonymously? *thinky face*

20. Favorite fic you’ve written?

A toss up between the longest klick and in the wake of darkness

Tagging!

No pressure tagging for @seascribbling @flowerparrish @frostbitebakery @insertmeaningfulusername @spiritofthenortheners and anyone else who wants to take a crack it it.

The template is under the cut.

20 Questions for Writers

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

2. What's your total AO3 word count?

3. What fandoms do you write for?

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

5. Do you respond to comments?

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

8. Do you get hate on fics?

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

10. Do you write crossovers?

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

14. What’s your all time favorite ship?

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

16. What are your writing strengths?

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

19. First fandom you wrote for?

20. Favorite fic you’ve written?

#tag game #20 questions for writers

[leiascully]

Twenty Questions for Fanfic Writers

Tagged by @sunflowerseedsandscience! Thank you!

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

740, but I have a few ficlets I have yet to add.

2. What's your total AO3 word count?

1,708,613

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Uhhhh, a lot. Here are the top 10:

The X-Files (279)

Battlestar Galactica (2003) (91)

Doctor Who (2005) (79)

House M.D. (78)

Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling (46) (I don't write for this anymore, but I haven't orphaned my stuff)

The West Wing (23)

Leverage (US TV 2008) (20)

The Avengers (Marvel Movies) (18) (I don't write Marvel anymore either)

Welcome to Night Vale (18)

Green Wing (15)

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

I'm sticking just to XF fics here:

Visitor

Baseball Metaphors

Resident

I Want To Believe (It's Not Lead Poisoning) (XF/WtNV crossover)

Ceremony of Innocence

5. Do you respond to comments?

Yep, pretty much every single one, even if it's just :). If someone takes the time to comment, I try to at least thank them. But I totally understand why other authors don't have the bandwidth. I'm also not a popular author in a juggernaut fandom getting hundreds of comments a week - I set aside a little time a few times a month if needed.

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

I've written a bunch of apocalyptic fic(lets) where it's heavily implied they die at the end or at least that death is imminent, so probably those.

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Probably Baseball Metaphors.

8. Do you get hate on fics?

Not often. Sometimes people will leave rude comments, but it's rare.

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

Yes, I believe it's a fascinating way to explore characters.

10. Do you write crossovers? What’s the wildest one you’ve written?

Yeah, I do. I wrote a Battlestar Galactica/XF crossover once with @dashakay. I wrote a House MD/XF crossover too, and the Welcome to Night Vale crossover mentioned above, and one for The Fall.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not as far as I know in terms of things that had my name scrubbed off them. I've had other writing stolen or borrowed, and people have uploaded my fics to other sites without permission.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

I think so, but I can't remember which one(s).

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Many times! My wife and I used to co-write fic all the time when we were young and silly and wrote hundreds of thousands of words of self-insert universes.

14. What’s your all time favorite ship?

MSR has lasted the longest besides Han/Leia. Also I strongly ship River/Doctor. The big vibe is "ships that feel queer".

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

I mean at this point literally anything. I'd love to finish The FBI's Most Unwanted.

16. What are your writing strengths?

Banter, character voice, poetic prose, ambiance.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

I keep hearing about this thing called plot. Never met her, though.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

I've written a whole fic in another language, so why not.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

Star Wars. Nothing worth reading, though.

20. Favorite fic you’ve written?

Oh gosh, I can't choose.

@suitablyaggrieved I would love to hear your answers! And anyone else who's intrigued.

#ask memes #writing

[charrfie]

howdy laika! for that ask game, spamton with 17, 22, 23, 24?

LONG POST INCOMING PLEASE READY YOURSELF

17. What's a ship for this character you don't hate but it's not your favorite that you're fine with?

See this is a tricky question bc I wouldn't say I truly LIKE any spamton ships really; they all don't work for me for one reason or another. But I'm fine with seeing some* of them regardless because I do view a majority of them as having been a part of his history? Like him and swatch for example. I do not enjoy that ship or actively take part in it but do I think there was something going on there during spamtons big shot years??? Yeah. Do I have a problem with anyone that does enjoy it? No. Kind of a non-answer but it's the best I've got

* = "Some" excluding any addison ships (bc I personally view them as siblings) and also ones that aren't morally gross, obviously

22. If you're a fic reader, what's something you like in fics when it comes to ths character? Something you don't like?

OH BOY AM I A FIC READER. For the past month or so as my hyperfixation on spam has ramped up in severity again I've been trying to read every spamton centric fic that's ever been written and wow has it been a journey. So as for what I like!! The easiest answer to this is probably just the general statement of "when people write him how he is in canon." It's surprisingly rare to see him written in such a manner but is always a nice surprise when he is. Not only do I say this in relation to his character as a whole, but his speech patterns too! Which- admittedly- are extremely difficult to get the hang of! So I understand if people aren't super well versed in it and can't write him accurately in that manner. But it's my favorite thing ever when people do.

As for the second part of this question, I think the most glaring thing I hate when it comes to fics about him is just how often he's infantilized. It's SHOCKING how often it happens. Sure sure, he can be silly no doubt about it, but he's a grown man in his 40s and has experienced so much awful shit. Can we knock it off with treating him like he's a newborn or is stupid?? In the same breadth is when people make him excessively kind or sweet right off the bat... like is he not kind of an asshole??? I think its perfectly fine to embrace that fact; him being morally gray adds SO much to his character! Dare I say a lot of people who enjoy his character wouldn't have been intrigued by him without it, so I don't know why that element of his character is so often neglected. Same with his small moments of kindness/humanity; they wouldn't hit as hard if he was like that the whole time. Idk. I'm kind of picky about writing and literature so I have a lot to say sorry lol

23. Favorite picture of this character?

If we're talking about canon art of him only then I will forever be thinking about this gif of him. It makes me crazy. Same with this drawing toby did of him, you people have no idea the damage it does to me

If fan works are included... then this piece by @fatspamton is my absolute favorite picture of spamton EVER and it has been for the longest time, no question about it. It's exactly how I see him in my head and he looks so charming in it T_T <3 All of this artists spamton art (and other art/music too!!) is absolutely worth looking at if you ask me; the way he draws spam is unbelievably perfect, I think about all of its works of him very often :"^]

24. What other character from another fandom of yours reminds you of them?

Going to be honest I've been stumped on this one. I don't think I have any answer?? There's no guy that takes up my brain space which is similar enough to him for me to say in full confidence "yeah x is like him," sorry!

#THANK YOU FOR ASKING THIS LOVE U #also to the artist whose works i included: #please let me know if youd like me to take down the actual picture and just leave the link to it up! ^_^ #laika answers #should i put this under a read more. is it too long. lmk #long post #you can ask me about spamton and I do not shut up

[chocochipbiscuit]

20 Questions for Fic Writers

I was tagged by @anneapocalypse, thank you Anne! <3

And I would like to tag @replicafatale. @formlessvoidbeast, @bittylildragon, and @meikuree if you are so inclined!

Blank questions for your convenience! My answers are below the cut.

1. how many works do you have on ao3?

2. what’s your total ao3 word count?

3. what fandoms do you write for?

4. what are your top five fics by kudos?

5. do you respond to comments?

6. what’s the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

7. what’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

8. do you get hate on fics?

9. do you write smut? if so, what kind?

10. do you write crossovers? what’s the craziest one you’ve written?

11. have you ever had a fic stolen?

12. have you ever had a fic translated?

13. have you ever co-written a fic before?

14. what’s your all-time favorite ship?

15. what’s a WIP you want to finish, but doubt you ever will?

16. what are your writing strengths?

17. what are your writing weaknesses?

18. thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?

19. first fandom you wrote for?

20. favorite fic you’ve ever written?

1. how many works do you have on ao3? 178, over almost 10 years! Though I suspect if I actually went back to tally them, the vast majority would be skewed towards my early years, back when I’d crank out a fic or two every week for the kink meme then post with minimal editing. Ah, youth.

2. what’s your total ao3 word count? 910,453! Again, I strongly suspect they’re skewed towards the beginning.

3. what fandoms do you write for? I started out pretty intensely monofandom for Fallout, but I write a lot of Dragon Age these days. Which is ironic because I don’t consider myself ‘that’ big a Dragon Age fan, but the fandom exchanges are fun and I’m familiar enough with the setting and characters that I don’t mind picking up pinch hits or writing impulsive ‘what if’ fics.

In general, I almost exclusively write for video game fandoms. (with a few books thrown in…)

4. what are your top five fics by kudos?

The Vashoth and The Qunari (Dragon Age, The Iron Bull/F!Qunari Inquisitor, rated E)

Belief (Fallout 4, Cait/F!Sole Survivor, rated G)

A Dream of Red (Dragon Age, Leliana/Morrigan, rated E)

And They Say Size Doesn’t Matter (Fallout 3, Fawkes/F!Lone Wanderer, rated E)

Data Collection (Fallout 4, Cait/F!Sole Survivor, rated E)

Basically: they’re all older fics, mostly smut, and mostly written while the fandoms were still new (or new-ish) and popular. The Vashoth and the Qunari was written before Inquisition even came out, and was written mostly from frenetic fandom speculation. I wouldn’t call it my best fic, just one that happened to strike while the hype machine was still active.

And They Say Size Doesn’t Matter has the questionable distinction of being the longest mutie smut fic on AO3, mostly because each chapter was written for various kink meme fills and then put somewhat in order. It makes me cringe a bit to reread it (I could do it so much better now! I could write with so much more nuance! I would have made less questionable decisions about characterization and description, or at least different questionable decisions!) but I still look back fondly on it.

5. do you respond to comments? Absolutely, though I’m rather late to respond sometimes! The only ones I don’t respond to (and usually just delete) are comments that make demands without any other attempt at interaction. (Ex: “next time write X/Y with New Kink” or “tag your trans characters” when there’s a perfectly nice author’s note at the beginning if you feel shocked or scandalized by the existence of trans characters in a fic that doesn’t focus on being trans and where the trans characters are minor or background!)

…anyways, mild aside: I consider tagging to be both warning (“please don’t read if X, Y, or Z bothers you, or at least prepare yourself”) and advertisement (“please do read if Tropes A, B, or C are appealing to you!”) rather than simple description. If I went out of my way to describe everything that might be relevant in a fic, including every single minor character who gets a single line of mention, then my tags bloat beyond what I consider useable. I try to include notes at the beginning to clarify or mention content that I don’t think needs to be warned/advertised for. Which is part of why I find it weird and borderline hostile to have specific identity tags demanded without explanation.

(And that said, I tag myself biracial bisexual….nah.)

6. what’s the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending? I don’t write a lot of angst, but I do have a story that ends ‘unhappily for now’!

Schroedinger’s Pussy (The Locked Tomb, Gideon/Harrow, rated E) is a fic about yes, pussy spanking, but also denial of feelings and ends with an unresolved sex thing that Harrow refuses to talk about, and Gideon in an empty room. In my head they’ll work through it (eventually) but obviously, not in this fic!

The weirdest dark fic I’ve written was an older kink meme fill, and it’s something that I promised from the beginning would only end in pain.

Pain (Fallout: New Vegas, Vulpes Inculta/Rose of Sharon Cassidy/Boone Craig, rated E) is morally dubious not-actually-a-love-triangle fic with under negotiated BDSM and an ambiguous ending that most likely ended with Vulpes’ off-screen death at Cass and Boone’s hands. It’s a fic I still think about sometimes, not because I think it was the best, but because I feel like it shows when I was more willing to be weird and experimental around fraught topics and messy dynamics. I don’t write that sort of thing now simply because I don’t enjoy it, but I’m still glad I had the experience of experimenting. 

7. what’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending? I love happy endings, but don’t often enjoy fluff! By which I mean: I want a happy ending to feel earned. I prefer desserts that have a little salt or bitterness to cut through the sweet and add balance. I want a fic to feel the same way.

That said: I think most of my fics have happy endings, if not always fluffy one.

That also said, I think never gonna say I’m sorry (Borderlands 3, Amara/Tyreen Calypso, rated E) fits the bill because it’s both a fix-it fic and villainous decay arc and I love that for Tyreen, the emotional journey and character growth she goes on from wanting to destroy the world to being willing to destroy herself in order to save it, and ultimately being pulled back to be told no, sometimes you gotta live even when it feels so much harder.

Fun fact: this fic has two endings, one in which Tyreen murders her brother (because just because she’s trying to be a good guy doesn’t mean she’s actually a good guy yet!) and one in which she tries the harder and messier path of not murdering him. I originally wrote the murder chapter because I didn’t think Tyreen would be at the point of being willing to forgive her own brother for attempting to kill her, but @bittylildragon made a note that essentially Troy was being punished for twink crimes, so I decided what the hey, I’ll try an alternate ending. And now I think that’s actually my favorite!

8. do you get hate on fics? Not on AO3. Some on Tumblr before I closed my inbox to anons. A couple on the old kink meme, back when it was self-destructing from the weirdly polarizing “Gay Wasteland” vs “the icky hets” arguments.

Funnily enough, I don't think I ever received a homophobic comment from a straight person! (Straight hate?). But I sure got comments accusing me of being ‘secretly het’ or a ‘proghet’ or ‘trying to trick lesbians into reading Big Dude/Smol Lady’ fic! Because fandom forbid being a bi woman who prefers to read and write fic that centers women! Even if that means that sometimes this means reading, writing, or recommending F/M fic instead of M/M!

Anyways. My AO3 bookmarks and works list are free for anyone to peruse, in case you want a statistical breakdown of my preferences for F/F >>> F/M > M/M so you can yell at me about not prioritizing M/M. /sarcasm

(And as always: I do read, write, and enjoy fics that feature nonbinary characters. I always feel weird including that as an aside, because there’s so little nonbinary rep in general that it feels weird trying to analyze anything from that, and ‘nonbinary’ is a big enough umbrella that even as someone who sometimes prefers they/them, I don’t necessary resonate with or feel represented by all nonbinary characters in fiction. Which is fine! When there’s so few examples, it feels even more fraught because no single character or person can Be All The Rep, and it feels like a weird sort of pressure to presume that they are, can be, or should be. Sometimes a character should just be allowed to exist, be interesting, and be nonbinary, without going ‘oh they’re such a good role model!’)

9. do you write smut? if so, what kind? I cut my teeth on a kink meme, of course I write smut! As for what kind…whatever catches my interest, really? Which means mostly F/F, if there are dudes involved at all they’re usually Real Big Dudes. There’s usually loving attention to oral sex. Often size kink. I also like including bondage and anal sex.

I’ve been writing a lot less smut in recent years. (I’ve also been writing a lot less in general, or at least posting a lot less, for various reasons. Mostly because now that I’m no longer working graveyard shifts and am out of a time-consuming bad relationship, I have more time for non-fandom hobbies!) Partly it’s because…well, repetition. When I first started writing for kink memes, my purpose was just to write; pick a prompt, bang something out, post. It was the exhilaration of writing, of starting something new.

Now: if I’m going to write, I want to do it in a way that feels new or fresh to me, whether that means in terms of prose, emotional depth, or characterization. There’s also, admittedly, some self-consciousness: I’m no longer ‘just’ writing for prompts on a kink meme, I have the (gasp) terrible responsibility of admitting that I wrote a thing just because I like it, or think it’s interesting! It’s the tension between realizing that nah, I haven’t written anything that truly makes me blush in ages, and then the mortification of going “but who else is gonna be interested in this weird goofy playful fic where Piper sits on a birthday cake???”

10. do you write crossovers? what’s the craziest one you’ve written? I’m not usually a fan of crossovers; I prefer looking at a character in their ‘home’ story and setting and how their environment shaped them. Some crossovers can be interesting if they add a new depth or layer to the existing canon (which I think is one of the reasons that Pacific Rim AUs were so popular for a while; drift-compatibility is an interesting way to explore characterization and relationships!) but I don’t often write them myself.

That said, ‘often’ doesn’t mean ‘never.’ I’ve written some AUs (unfinished Cassandra/Leliana werewolf fic, the moody cannibal mermaid AU with Aveline/Isabela) but full on crossovers are a different entity.

The closest to a crossover that I currently have is the still untitled Fallout Necromancy AU, in which I merge some of The Locked Tomb’s approach to necromancy with Fallout 4 for some incredibly unhealthy cav/necro codependencies for necromancer Hancock and cavalier Danse. It’s more true to Fallout’s canon than TLT, and still unfinished. Alas.

11. have you ever had a fic stolen? I’ve had some of my fics scraped and posted to shady publishing sites (“only $5 for all the stories you want!”) and submitted takedown requests. No in-fandom stealing that I’m aware of.

12. have you ever had a fic translated? Yes! Here is a Russian translation of what we don’t talk about (Mass Effect, Zaeed Massani/Karin Chakwas), which I was absolutely tickled pink to receive!

13. have you ever co-written a fic before? Technically, yes. The fic has been subsequently deleted and I have abolished all ties to that person, so that might be a warning. /tongue in cheek

More seriously: I don’t think I can. I’m idiosyncratic and particular about my process, and I just don’t think I’m very good at co-writing with someone. I can take an idea and feedback and process that into my fic, sometimes very heavily, and I can work off someone else’s outline or prompt, but to the level of co-writing, assuming we’re taking equal claim and responsibility for the work? It feels profanely intimate in a way that makes me deeply uncomfortable, which unfortunately probably says more about me than anyone else!

That said: I have been fortunate enough to have truly excellent friends who have also played cheerleader and beta for me, sometimes offering me substantial notes that meant I had to fundamentally rewrite portions of a story. Does this make them co-writers? I don’t think so, but it’s definitely a more intense collaboration than I usually request, and it’s something I reserve for only a few people.

14. what’s your all-time favorite ship? How dare you ask this of a multi-shipper!!!!

I don’t know that I have a real answer for this. In my head, I try to split it by fandoms (but wait! Would I consider Dragon Age Origins, Awakening, DA2, and Inquisition to all have different fandoms?), but some fandoms are only occasional urges and others are more consuming passions, so….

I’ll leave it at this: if I’ve written it, I probably ship it on some level. And not all ships are “oh I think they’re gonna live happily ever after,” some ships are “hm, that could be interesting” or “oh, they could be so bad for each other in such compelling ways,” and others are “they’re good for each other at this point in time, but maybe not beyond that,” etc etc.

15. what’s a WIP you want to finish, but doubt you ever will? If I want to finish it, I assume I eventually will. ‘Eventually’ may take a while. Life is short, love is long, and I do love stories.

16. what are your writing strengths? *hour-long fart noise* Strengths? Idk. I always feel strange talking about my strengths to begin with, and this year has been particularly rough for that because I’ve been taking more deliberate time doing writing exercises and reading different books about writing. It makes me more critical of my own work.

But if I must: sensory immersion. Character interiority. Basically, I try my best to love a character—or at least find something I can love about them, something that evokes care and pity if not admiration—and let that shape how I write them, even if they don’t love themselves. If that makes my authorial bias a bit kinder, then so be it. I feel like the world needs a little more kindness.

17. what are your writing weaknesses? *hour-long fart noise* What about my love of obscure words? If I had a nickel for every time I tried to sneak ‘palimpsest’ into my prose and been called out by a beta, I’d have two nickels! Which isn’t that often, but weird that it happened twice! (Other amazing words I often fight over including or not: phosphenes, mordant, triptych, chiaroscuro, bellicose, gelid. I get a daily word of the day from Merriam-Webster and I don’t know if it’s actually improved my vocabulary or only made me more insufferable!)

I fully admit that sometimes I get overly compelled to write something ‘pretty’ and linguistically clever than fully in the character’s voice. I jump around with sentence fragments and don’t link my scenes; sometimes it works (choppy, disjointed prose for characters who themselves are extremely angry or disconnected from their environment in some way) and more often it doesn’t.

I have mild synesthesia and an idiosyncratic interpretation of certain stimuli, and often need to revise to ensure it makes sense to anyone else. Or if I can tweak it just enough to sound refreshing and vivid. (Example: low musical notes feel ‘blue’ to me, and often bitter. Higher notes can be sharp-sweet or acidic, but usually don’t have a color association. Yellow is rancid. This only becomes a problem when I’m sleep-deprived or highly-caffeinated, as when I once had to stop my playlist because the rapid taste/sound/smell combos were making me nauseous.)

I often want to write characters as softer, kinder, or gentler than they are in canon. Does that sand out their complexity? Yes. Is it because I want them to have a kinder, softer, or gentler future than what their story gave them? Also yes.

18. thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic? OH BOY DO I HAVE THOUGHTS.

Okay, so! First of all, I need to foreground this: as a Chinese-American living in the US, I find it extremely off putting when I read a story and the mere choice of capitalization and italics make it clear who the author thinks their intended audience is, and who is ‘other.’ If an author bothers capitalizing or italicizing “Pad Thai,” “Sushi,” or “Shu Mai,” (as in: “I ordered some Shu Mai.”) but not, say “Pizza,” “Burrito,” or “Croissant,” there are some pretty big assumptions going on already that make me feel alienated from the text. (As always, there’s some room to play with: if the author is intentionally writing their POV character as having those particular biases, that’s one thing. When it’s a completely unexamined bias, that’s another.)

Translated text doesn’t need to be italicized or marked as other, unless again, there’s a specific reason that the POV character might see it as ‘other.’ Most people won’t interpret their home language or heart languages as ‘other.’ A dialogue tag like ‘said in Cantonese’ or ‘said in Spanish’ is sufficient, I’ll trust in the reader to pick it up!

I am a first-generation Chinese-American who can’t read the Chinese syllabary. (And what little I speak is Cantonese, not Mandarin. The loss or use of heritage languages across the diaspora is an entire topic by itself, so please understand that this is one person’s view and experience.) Some Chinese writers prefer to write with hanzi; I prefer to write Romanized versions but what goes in a fic will depend on the POV character’s relationship to the language and how intelligible (or not) it’s meant to be to the reader. I generally include context or a note if it’s meant to be clear; if it’s something that the POV character won’t understand, I often prefer to leave it as “speaks in another language” or “said something in another language.”

In general, I find most fictional languages to be intellectual masturbation (there, I said it! :P) and am less interested in those than in how real-world languages are depicted in fiction, especially when read by people who may or may not be familiar with those actual languages and the people who speak them.

19. first fandom you wrote for? While the first fandom I ever posted for was Fallout…very technically I suppose the first fandom I ever wrote for was Pokemon. Because back when I was 9 or 10, I was very invested in Misty and Jesse because they were the only two girls who got a lot of screen time in the anime, and I just really wanted them to be friends!

In hindsight…I don’t think I was consciously thinking of it as shipping terms or romantic interest, but I thought it sucked that the only two girls who really showed up couldn’t at least be friends. So I wrote a lil’ story in which they got trapped in a cave…and obviously they had to camp together…and save each other as they looked for a way out…

Scandalous!!!!

20. favorite fic you’ve ever written? I try to love every fic at least a little before I share it with the world! But this one’s my newest baby:

(love is) the suture and the wound (Dragon Age, Leliana/Morrigan, rated E)

Thank you for reading this far! Now please drink some water and get up and stretch. :P

#choco's premium original content #20 questions for fic writers #tag memes

[takadasaiko]

20 Questions For Writers

I was tagged by the lovely @illegalcerebral !

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

303

2. What’s your total AO3 word count?

2,425,506

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Are we talking about right now or overall? Right this moment I'm actively writing on a Star Wars fic and I have been poking at both an old and a new Once Upon a Time fic. Send help. Somewhere in here I need to write on my own project.

4. What are your top five fics by kudos?

Second Chances (Avengers)

Howl Until it Hurts (Dirk Gently's Holistic Detective Agency)

The Price to be Paid (Once Upon a Time)

A Flicker of Light (Star Wars)

Everything Back to You (The Blacklist)

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

I try to! I'm much better at responding to comments on current projects (especially the most recent chapter that's been posted).

6. What’s the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

I really don't know... While I count a story a success if you're reaching for the kleenex box, people that read my stories know they can count on what I refer to as an earned ending. It's a good/happy ending with a ton of pain to get us there, but all in all I have a strong and proven habit of bringing characters back from the dead and giving the ships in my stories a solid ending.

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Again, most of them are.

8. Do you get hate on your fic?

Oh sure. I'd say the most I received was in the Blacklist fandom. I got everything from asking me to change the name of my fic because it was the same song lyric the other author had chosen to being told I was an abuse condoner because I shipped a Mr and Mrs Smith styled couple. That was a truly wild fandom back in the day.

9. Do you write smut?

I don't. I'm very much a fade-to-black kind of writer.

10. Do you write crossovers?

Not really. Every great once and a while something might line up, but in general I keep things in-world.

I will say that one of my favourite fics ever was a crossover between OUAT and the Hunger Games that @toseehowthestoryends wrote.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Maybe? I feel like someone posted fics over on a site without my permission. If memory serves, they left my pen name on it though, so there are worse things.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

I've had people ask if they are allowed to, but if they ever finished the project I don't know.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic?

Yep! I used to co-write very reguarly.

14. What‘s your all-time favourite ship?

Listen now. That's like asking me to choose a favourite child. What kind of rudeness is that? :P

I'll go with some of my longest running and ships I've loved for many years, how does that sound?

SkyJade (Luke Skywalker and Mara Jade from Star Wars)

Keen2 (Tom and Liz Keen from The Blacklist)

Dick Grayson/Robin/Nighting and Barbara Gordon/Batgirl/Oracle from Batman

Rumbelle (Rumplestiltskin and Belle from OUAT)

Romy (Remy LeBeau/Gambit and Rogue from X-Men)

15. What’s the WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

I keep looking at Burn the Worlds (OUAT) and thinking about picking it back up again. It was such an interesting and, dare I say unique premise that I'd love to finish it. I actually poked at it a bit the other day, so there's hope yet.

16. What’s your writing strengths?

I've always leaned into dialogue. I enjoy it, I've been told I'm pretty good at it, and when it flows it can make a scene. You can learn so much through what's said and all the little spaces between those words.

Interestingly enough, I think one of my weaknesses has become one of my strengths over the years. I used to be terrible at fight scenes, but I forced myself to write them and found that, eventually, I became better. Now I really enjoy them. They're fast pace and snappy and flow oh so nicely if everything fits into place :D

17. What’s your writing weaknesses?

For the life of me I can't keep a story contained? I'm also very bad at 'killing my darlings', as they say. Unless it's either a character I hate or a super minor character, I'm not fond of killing them.

I'm looking forward to Palpatine's eventual demise in AFoL....

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?

I guess it depends on the situation and how much dialogue. There are characters that littler foreign phrases regularly like Remy from X-Men and his sporadic French, but I wouldn't be comfortable in trying to write blocks of French dialogue. The opportunity to screw it up is just too large and it's too difficult for the audience to read.

Saying that, I have a vague recollection of doing it for a story and adding the translations at the bottom of the chapter. Can't remember what story it was for, but in general I try not to make a habit of it unless the story demands it.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

Oh wow... I was going through some old stored documents the other day at my folks' place and found a collection of pages for what kiddo me was referring to as Lion King 2. Does that count?

I think Gundam Wing is probably the real answer. You know, when I knew what fanfiction was.

20. Favourite fic you’ve ever written?

Again, you're asking for the favourite child. Rude.

I have some that have a very special place in my heart:

Everything Back to You (The Blacklist), Such Great Heights (Wynonna Earp), A Flicker of Light (Star Wars), Second Chances (Marvel), and Courage of the Stars (Once Upon a Time)

Thank you again for the tag! No pressure tags going out to:

@theherothechampiontheinquisitor, @rebelmeg, @nimata-beroya, @jedimordsith, @clawedandcute, @ice-whisper, @intricatecakes, @exlibrisfangirl, @strivia, and anyone else!

#fanfiction meme

[lunarriviera]

2023 ao3 wrapped

last year @programmedradly and i asked each other some questions, rather than try to field the entire thing. so we did the same thing this year! and here are my answers. i had a wild little annus mirabilis and somehow posted more work than i ever have before, so there was lots to choose from.

•

3. What work are you most proud of (regardless of kudos/hits)?

tragically, one of my dead doves: the wu xie/li cu fic “you bear your scars, you've done your time.” no one reads it because it's an age-gap pairing, and it's inherently tragic (post-sha hai fucked-up wu xie). it has 17 whole kudos and it fought for every one. but like a lot of my badwrong pairings, it's honestly some of my best writing. i wrote it fast and the action scenes are solid, the dialogue is good and even funny, and the sex scenes are miserable and scorching. oh well, they can put it in my norton critical edition after i'm dead lol.

5. What work of yours got more feedback than you expected?

readers seemed to like the pingxie kissing fic, which was funny to me because it's literally just…kissing. (i wanted to put in plot and/or sex but mumble was very stern with me: “this is a KISSING fic.”) i guess we all are still battered by canon and just want wu xie dozing by the carp pool and getting kissed.

6. Favorite title you used?

“the subtle fire," with its title from the calamus poems by walt whitman; all its subheadings are from whitman too. sadly otherwise this was the year of taylor, and i exhausted midnights and all the vault tracks. new year's resolution: moratorium on fic titles from tay.

8. Pairing you wrote the most for this year?

somehow there were 18 dmbj fics. 😳 pingxie won out with 9 fics, followed by 6 heihua fics and then a smattering of rare pairs (not to say dead doves lol). there were 5 under the skin fics; at this point i post one of those like every two damm weeks because i'm down that bad.

10. What work was the quickest to write?

probably either of my drabbles—a little rpf prose poem for zhu yilong/unnamed photographer (still my most beloved pairing) or shen wei smoking a cigarette and zhao yunlan being horrified (and a little turned on).

11. What work took you the longest to write?

without a doubt, the 31k guardian fic i just posted. i got freaked out by its complexity and dropped it for a year, and then had to TOIL over all the canon details, because i didn't remember ANYTHING apparently (zhang shi who? fu you? li qian? what?). it took for fucking EVER to finish and i will NEVER write such a plotty monster again. the worst part was when ma gui randomly said, “oh there's a fifth hallow” at which point i was like “there's a WHAT NOW.” ironically that turned out to be the title. i hate characters that TALK and SAY SHIT.

15. What WIP are you taking into next year with you?

the pingxie epic 😭 i'm not sure if i even can ever finish it because it involves google searches like “recent tomb discoveries china” and “can you survive c4 explosion.” also it'll be another dead dove because it starts with wu xie divorcing bai haotian, and the iron triangle being broken up. and that's just the beginning. everyone will hate it, and instead read cute fics about liu sang being a fox, probably.

17. Your favorite character to write this year?

it's gotta be du cheng from under the skin. he embodies what is turning into my favorite character archetype, Big Dumb Hot Cop. so butch. so loyal. so stupid. just a blast to narrate. wu xie and hei xiazi have similar idiot energy but are also paradoxically very intelligent so that's more challenging. (writing xiaoge's dialogue is difficult as fuck. he can't just say "wu xie" ALL the time.)

28. Favorite work you wrote this year?

possibly, after everything, the end (for me) of the zhu yilong/unnamed photographer series. other people may keep adding to it but i needed to let them go. they exist in such a liminal unsettled never-together bittersweet place for me and i felt grateful to have spent time with them, as weird as that is to say. i'll always love unnamed photographer, and his aesthetic yearning. MY ONE RPF SHIP THAT WENT CANON. 😭

29. Favorite line/passage you wrote this year?

indulging myself and submitting a few:

Even Huos had to sleep sometime, or hang upside down, or whatever it was they did to restore themselves. [x]

•

Once he has him flat on his back again, with breathtaking pragmatism Shen Yi drips lube all over him, sinks down on him and then rides him so hard Du Cheng sees not just stars but entire constellations. [x]

•

Xiaoge kissed his hair. "Hold still," he said, and Wu Xie could do that, no problem. He fell asleep that way, curled against Xiaoge’s naked skin, and dreamed he was watching Xiaoge plant moss in the moss garden, in impossible colors: turquoise, bright orange. A richly saturated luminous violet. [x]

•

Xiazi added so much condensed milk to Xie Yuchen’s coffee that he finally had to arrest his hand forcibly. “Stop trying to give me diabetes.” Xiazi’s smile was worse than the cloying milk. “It’s to match the sweetness in your soul, my little flower." “Oh my god,” said Xie Yuchen faintly, as Geya listened, to all appearances visibly entertained. “What do you want? Because I assume you want something. Money? Work? Is this a hostage situation?” Xiazi just smiled harder, but at least he put the milk down, in favor of giving Xie Yuchen another pain au chocolat. “Why does he get all the pastry?” Geya said, sounding disappointed. “It’s to build his strength,” Hei Xiazi told him, and the patently, horribly uxorious look on Xiazi’s face made Xie Yuchen want to hit someone.) [x]

•

Xiao Hua manages to bite back a tart comment about how challenging it is to keep looking younger than forty when one’s companion will never look any older. It takes more than expensive rose hip and argan oil and ceramides; it takes never skipping the gym, and always skipping dessert. It means going to bed at nine-thirty when he’d rather stay up reading, and above all it means not letting Hei Xiazi know about any of these little maneuvers, lest it not seem effortless. [x]

•

As Wu Xie started enthusiastically laying out the details—and why was he awake at this miserable hour?—Hei Xiazi pulled the pillow away from his face and started gently hitting Xie Yuchen with it. “Wu Xie, let me call you back later,” he said, arresting the pillow’s movement with one hand. “I have something I have to deal with here.” “Sure,” said Wu Xie, cheerful. Then: “I bought Pangzi an espresso machine, and he taught me how to use it! Xiaoge’s not here, I wish he’d come home. I had five cups! You should take Hei Xiazi with you, just in case things get complicated. They might. Get complicated, I mean. I'll tell you all about it. When will you call me?” Xie Yuchen fought not to laugh. “After sunrise, probably. Drink some water. And tell Pangzi I’m going to kill him.” [x]

•

Su Wan seems lost in thought for a minute. “I always thought maybe one day I would like guys, but I don’t.” Li Cu elbows him. “What about Hei-ye?” Su Wan looks horrified. “Yali, no! What a thought!” “Okay, okay,” says Li Cu, and drunkenly tousles his hair. “Calm down.” Yang Hao puts out his hand for the bottle. “Hei-ye is pretty cool, though,” he says, which is high praise from him. It’s true. They sit without saying anything for a moment, in silent contemplation of Hei Xiazi’s inarguable coolness. [x]

•

The things about you that other people find unsettling, those have somehow never bothered Wu Xie. You’re spooky, Hei Xiazi told you frankly, once. I am too, but I drown it out by talking. You’re so silent, our little Yaba Zhang. People are afraid of you. Xiazi had been right, and you knew it. But Wu Xie has never been afraid of you, not even once. You think about the first time you came back from behind the gate, how furious and desperate he’d been to know why you hadn’t come straight back to him. Demanding answers, wanting to know why you went, what you saw. And you remember gazing back at him, still mute with the magnitude of it. He could never have understood, but no one could, not even Wu Xie whose intelligence shone as clearly as an aura around him, glowing, burnished—still innocent, still young enough to be passionate. Whereas even at the time you felt every single one of your hundred years lying on you like a burden, like fallen trees pressing you into the loam, the moss, the muck. [x]

•

He’s still half-asleep, is the only thing that could possibly explain why Zhao Yunlan ducks under some low-slung branches and strolls right up to the water’s edge only to see Shen Wei, stripped naked, hip-deep in a pool of still clear water, combing through his unbraided hair with his fingers. Why is this a surprise. What was he thinking. And above all, why is he still walking towards him on automatic, as if drawn toward him, as if not caring whether Shen Wei would see him or stop— Shen Wei startles and looks up, motion arrested. He’s bent at the waist, rinsing bits of dirt and bracken from his hair, skin glowing like wet marble, and Zhao Yunlan suddenly wants him so badly he couldn’t make a fist if he had to. Shen Wei smiles, and Zhao Yunlan will never get enough of that smile, artless and full-hearted. All he can do is smile back, helplessly. [x]

#ao3 wrapped #2023 ao3 wrapped #ao3 writer #i have committed an act of fanfiction #thanks for a fabulous year everyone! #dmbj #heihua #pingxie #sha hai #mystery of the abyss #under the skin #镇魂 guardian

[2offayyo-kzt]

tagged by @spookymultimedia :) thks

1. How many works do you have on Ao3 ?

9

2. What's your total word count ?

24 300 words for the moment

3. What Fandoms do you write for ?

What We Do in the Shadows, I did two fics for Bungou Stray Dogs in the past but I'm no longer in this fandom

4. Top 5 fics by Kudos

I Envy Those Eyes of Yours (36 kudos-BSD)

Clair de Lune (31 kudos-WWDITS)

Checkers(30 kudos-WWDITS)

The Cabin(24 kudos-WWDITS)

Unclouded by my Ideals(22 kudos-BSD)

5. Do I respond to Comments

Yes

6. Whats the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending ?

The angst is often in the fic itself or implied, but I would say "Clair de Lune" or in my compilation of 4 short stories about Sean (no sex in it) "Rotten Soldier"

7. Whats the fic you wrote with the happiest ending ?

every time Laszlo gets to fuck Sean I call it a happy ending, and since all my fics are Seanzlo smut, I leave it to y'all to decide

8. Do you get hate on any first ?

No, what first means lmao ? first fic ? If so no.

9. Do you write smut ?

Practically, only that

10. Do you write crossovers ?

No

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen ?

No

12. Have you ever had a fic translated ?

Nope, but I know what a fucking nightmare it is to translate a fic, Deepl is my best friend (+ my knowledge)

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before ?

For several months now, @godfuckingnamehelp and I have been writing an incredible fic about the life of the Rinaldis ! (with huge breaks to write lmao let's be honest) but it's one of the most beautiful projects I'm working on

Because I think we're doing a great job of giving these characters depth while staying true to the show... AND A BACKSTORY FOR THEM 🎉 !

14. What's Your All Time favorite Ship ?

I don't have an all-time favorite, but here's what I liked best :

Hilson, Voxman, Tenya Iida x Any characters tbh, Sakaguchi Ango x Sigma, Seanzlo, Sean x Charmaine.

I've probably forgotten a few

15. Whats a WIP you want to finish but doubt you will ?

I have a Sean x The Baron fic I will probably never finish, a threesome between Mikey Franky and Seanie that was very good and funny and I should finish this shit fr

16. What are your writing strengths ?

I think I'm always "in character" by my standards

17. What are your writing weaknesses ?

I find it hard to write pure smut without any plot

18. Thoughts on dialogues in another language ?

I like it, if I can drop a few words of French I'm doing it already

19. First fandom I wrote for ?

Bungou Stray Dogs

20. Your favorite fic you've written ?

Among those I've posted, I'm very proud of Checkers because

1) I wrote it in one go

2) it's probably one of the funniest I've ever wrote

3) it's a fic with a kink that I rarely write (feeding kink) and that is rarely present in wwdits fics

But in reality my project with @godfuckingnamehelp is really what's close to my heart, we're working hard on it, it will probably be a fic with 50k words

It will be called "What We Do in the Daytime", and we've posted a draft of the first chapter on Tumblr already months ago

tagging whoever sees this :)

for the curious, here's my account, and GO READ CIGARS SECRETS & SEX, it was a nightmare to write/translate and I have finally done it ! (my longest Seanzlo fic for the moment)

#kztpost

[pancake-breakfast]

[20 Question Fic Writer Game]

Shamelessly stolen after I saw @needle-noggins did this....

How many works do you have on AO3? 39, but that's deceptive because two of them are alternate endings to two others and 31 of them are 100-word drabbles.

What is your AO3 word count? 51,620

What fandoms do you write for? Primarily Attack on Titan (mostly Eruri), but also Jujutsu Kaisen (mostly Satosugu), Given, Sk8 (Matchablossom), the occasional Chainsaw Man (AkiAngel), and a handful of others

What are your top five fics by kudos? What You Want (Eruri), What You Want: Reflection (companion piece to What You Want), Balanced within the Ring (AkiAngel drabble), It Keeps Away the Bad Touch (AkiAngel drabble), No Accounting for Taste (Satosugu drabble)

Do you respond to comments? Why or why not? Sure, as long as I think the comment was made in good faith. I want people to know their comments were seen and appreciated, and sometimes I want to rant a bit about my writing process.

What's the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending? Hmm.... Probably A Slip of the Heart (Orufrey), but don't read it unless you're up to Chapter 40 in Tongari Boushi no Atelier/Witch Hat Atelier, as it has some MAJOR spoilers.

What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending? This depends a bit on what one feels qualifies as a happy ending. I think I have more funny endings than actual happy ones (and more angst than funny ones). Maybe A Rewarding Meal (Matchablossom) or No Accounting for Taste (Satosugu)?

Do you get hate on fics? Oh, I'm not NEARLY popular enough for that.

Do you write smut? If so, what kind? I have written smut, and I might again in the future, but it's not really my thing. If I'm gonna write it, it's probably gonna be some sort of yaoi hurt/comfort.

Do you write crossovers? Not really, though I do have an idea for a Promare crossover series with... um... everything, really.

Have you ever had a fic stolen? Not to my knowledge.

Have you ever had a fic translated? Alas, no. Though I might try translating some of my fics on my own for funsies.

Have you ever cowritten a fic before? Yes, but nothing that's posted on AO3.

What's your all-time favourite ship? Yeah, there's a reason my longest project is Eruri.

What's a WIP you'd like to finish but doubt you ever will? It's a Satosugu one that's a bunch of unsent emails from Geto to Gojo.

What are your writing strengths? Uhhhh... I feel like this is a question best asked of those who've read my fics.

What are your writing weaknesses? I get very caught up on things being as canon compliant as I can make them. Also, I like starting my sentences with conjunctions.

Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic? I mean, why not? But it's a good idea to get someone with fluency in that language to double-check it for you. Buuuuut don't let bad grammar in a foreign language stop you from writing what you want to write. If you're writing it for formal publishing, your agent/editor/publisher will help you clean it up. If you're writing for informal publishing... well, have you seen the spelling/grammar/syntax people use in their native tongues? Seriously, just go for it. Maybe be prepared to take some flack from native speakers, though.

First fandom you wrote for? Ooh, gonna show my age here. Transformers/Beast Wars.

Favourite fic you've ever written? Definitely the What You Want series, but specifically the epilogue, Memories and Promises, which can be read without reading any of the rest of the series.

Tagging @revenantghost, @nepentheisms, @iwritenarrativesandstuff, and anyone else who'd like to steal it from me the way I stole it from someone else.

#i'm usually down for questions about my writings #questionnaire #fanfiction #ao3 #eruri #erwin smith #levi ackerman #attack on titan #satosugu #gojo satoru #geto suguru #jujutsu kaisen #akiangel #aki hayakawa #angel devil #chainsaw man #matchablossom #kaoru sakurayashiki #kojiro nanjo #sk8 the infinity #sometimes i write stuff

[grandlovescheme]

20 questions for fic writers

Tagged by @luthien-under-bough, thank you! I love talking about fics and the process of how I write them, so this was fun to put together :)

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

28

2. What’s your total AO3 word count?

459,900

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Now exclusively House of the Dragon, specifically Daemyra

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

High Hopes

Let's Ignite Under the Ember Skies

You're Ripped at Every Edge (But You're a Masterpiece)

If I Could, I'd Get You the Moon

The Dominoes Cascaded in a Line

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

Yes, I try to always respond, even if the comment is to an older fic. Sometimes I'm overwhelmed or don't even know what to say when someone's being way too kind to me lol, but I always want to let people know I see them and appreciate them so much.

The only time I don't... is when I see someone's binging my whole fic, so then I only respond to the last comment, once they're all caught up.

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

This is easy, as I only have one fic without a happy ending - All and Then Most of You, Some and Now None of You. I love daemyra too much to not give them HEA as much as possible

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

This is hard to pick... Because all of my fics, apart from that one, end teeth rootingly sweet 😂 Perhaps Dominoes. Or perhaps fighter!au, which you guys haven't read yet but it's very fucking happy!

8. Do you get hate on fics?

Sometimes. Though it is much much better now that I disabled anon asks.

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

I do! What kind I write... Hmm, tbf I think I write pretty vanilla stuff, even if I do try to explore some kinks here and there when it fits the story and the characters. I guess my kind is focusing on the feelings most of the time, and the emotional connection.

10. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written?

I don't, or at least I haven't yet. We'll see if muse ever strikes this way!

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not that I know of, so hopefully not

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

A few times in a different fandom

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

No, not yet, but I'm definitely open to the idea. I definitely wrote a bunch of stuff based on my fandom friends' crazy ideas and prompts with their help, so that's halfway there, I guess

14. What’s your all-time favorite ship?

No couple had ever taken over my life and thoughts the way Daemyra did, so, the answer is clear!

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

Soulmates AU? I was once so excited for it, wrote a bunch of notes and even the first two chapters, but now I'm kinda... not feeling it :(

16. What are your writing strengths?

I spent the longest on this question. I think it's the emotions I try to convey in my fics, good or bad.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

Now this is much easier. Plot! Intrigue! If you guys haven't noticed yet lol, I write fics heavily focused on romance only, and the development of Daemyra's relationship, because I just can't pull off anything more than that.

I'll probably never write a fic where people will wonder what'll happen next, what that and this means, what this person's motivations are... Because I'm unfortunately not wired that way. But I learned to accept that, and I have fun writing my silly romances with no real plot <3

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

I've done it myself a few times and I like to see it in other fics, too. Especially in HV it's delicious to see in the canon-verse. Though I always struggle with how to write the translation - right next to it, in cursive, in brackets, in the final notes?? That's always a head scratcher

19. First fandom you wrote for?

Eh, probably Twilight? I don't remember writing anything before that, so must be it

20. Favorite fic you’ve written?

Probably still High Hopes, even after all this time 🤍

This was fun! I'm tagging some of my writer friends if they wanna join and haven't yet, @ar-feyniel, @eschercaine, @calenlily, @fiora-miriel and anyone else who wants to! :)

#my fic stuff #question game #my writing i guess

[caramelcoffeeaddict]

Weekend WIP - Ask Game

Rules: List your WIPs below (if you only write one fic at a time, feel free to include future WIPs/ideas!) then answer the following questions. Then, tag as many people as you have WIPs (or more).

I was tagged by @bitbybitwrites. thank you for tagging me!! I don't post fics until they are complete, so unless I've mentioned the story on my blog, some of these answers are not going to make sense to anyone but me, LOL. also, I try to only work on one WIP at a time, but I do have a few partially started/outlined stories sitting in my drafts folder on my hard drive, and I guess they are technically WIPs even if I'm not actively working on them, so here goes nothing...

-

1. WIP List:

Andy Hummel's Last Will And Testament

Breaking Stereotypes

I Taste The Truth

You And Me And The Beat

The Escape Plan

2. Which of your WIPs is currently the longest?:

Breaking Stereotypes is currently just over 55k words, so definitely that one ;)

3. Which WIP do you expect will end up the longest?:

Probably Breaking Stereotypes?

4. Which WIP is your favourite to write/the most enjoyable to write? Why?:

Currently, I'm only focusing on Breaking Stereotypes, and I'm really looking forward to finishing it and getting it published.

5. Which WIP do you find the most intimidating to write? Why?:

I Taste The Truth is a pretty intimidating story to write. Which probably explains why I haven't even looked at in a few years. why? because it involves a lot of world building since Kurt is part-Fae in that fic, and I want to make sure I can explain things properly without info-dumping, but also make sure that I'm not leaving out important info that lives in my head but a reader might need extra context for.

6. Which WIP do you experience the most self-doubt about. Why?:

again, I Taste The Truth. for all the same reasons that I explained above.

7. Which of your WIPs will you seek out a beta/sensitivity reader for? Why?:

none of them? I've only ever had a beta read a fic if the story was written for a challenge where a beta was a requirement of the challenge.

8. Have any of your WIPs been struck by the curse of writer's block?:

all of them!! that's why their WIPs, LOL. Breaking Stereotypes was fic I started in 2017. I think I put it on official hiatus in 2019, and have only really done minor edits here-and-there until this year when I finally figured out what direction to take the story.

9. Which WIP has your favourite OC? Tell us about them?"

as of right now, Breaking Stereotypes is the only story with an OC. Her name is Candice. She is the manager of Blaine's band as well as Trent's girlfriend (Trent is bi in my fic). She's a smart and snarky, and she takes her job very seriously.

10. Which WIP is the sexiest?:

I don't have a lot written for it yet, but my guess is that You And Me And The Beat will be the sexiest ;)

11. Which WIP is the angstiest?:

I honestly don't know. Andy Hummel's Last Will And Testament, maybe?

12. Which WIP has the best characterisation (in your humble opinion)?:

all of them? again, I don't know. I think my characterization is about equal across all my stories? I could be wrong though.

13. Which WIP has the best scene setting (in your humble opinion)?:

You And Me And The Beat? maybe?

14. Which WIP have you worked the hardest on?:

Definitely Breaking Stereotypes.

15. Which WIP do you have the highest expectations for? Why?:

I don't put expectations on my fics. not the way this question implies anyway. the only expectations I have are things like "I expect this to have 20 chapters" or "I expect this to be around 20k words" or "I expect to complete this story by next week". I don't expect anything else from them. I really am that annoying person that writes stories strictly for my own enjoyment because these stories are in my head and I want to get them on paper so I can read them. even though I complain about it, the creative process of bringing these stories to life is the best part of writing fic. I just share the completed stories with the fandom for fun, because I figure there might be other people out there that will enjoy it as much as me. if not, no worries. it made me happy, and that's all that matters.

16. Do you dream about any of your WIPs?:

daydream? yes. I think about all of them often. usually just the one that is my main focus of the moment, but sometimes one of the others likes to remind me it still exists, and tries to command my attention ;) however, I don't usually have dreams about my WIPs. (I have occasionally gotten an idea for a story/WIP because of a dream though)

17. Do any of your WIPs have particular complexities that your other fics don't?:

I Taste The Truth has that element of including Fae attributes and otherworldly components, which makes it different from my other WIP stories.

18. Which WIP is the funniest or has the most humour?:

The Escape Plan is a fun and silly fic.

19. Do any of your WIPs contain outside POVs or a deep dive on a character other than the main ship? How are you finding that process?:

nope. sorry.

20. Tell us one thing we don't know about one or more of your WIPs.:

I honestly can't remember what I have or have not shared about each of these fics, so I don't know what you don't know. but if you have questions you can always feel free to send me an ask! I love talking about my fics with people.

#i was tagged #writer ask meme #kiwi's writing #long post

[sunghoons-mole]

it’s too late.

GENRE // ex!park sunghoon x afab!reader (ft. bf!jungwon)

WARNINGS // angst, heartbreaking, sunghoon is a complete ass (he would never, hes an angel) 

FROM THE AUTHOR // this is the first fic ive posted without proper capitalization. if that bothers you, i apologize. this fic was a shower thought, and i was just in a hurry to get it all out before it left my brain lol. enjoy !

the knock on your door was so sudden that you almost dropped the book you were reading. 

that’s how disasters begin, isn’t it? a knock on the door. you’d read enough books to know. 

setting the book on the coffee table, you walked towards the door slowly, sure it was nothing to be worried about. wiping your sweaty palms on your pants didn’t make the doorknob less slippery. 

when you saw sunghoon through the cracked door, you slammed it shut again, turning the lock and putting your back against it. but you were sure he could hear the steady drum of your heartbeat as panic washed over you. 

but not just panic. longing. 

“y/n, let me in.” his voice seemed to impale the wood that separated the two of you. you hated how quickly you listened to him.

closing the door and locking it behind him, you turn to face him, crossing your arms. you refused to speak first. 

“i know i suck.” he scratched his neck, looking at the floor. “i should have called. i-”

“you shouldn’t have left in the first place,” you yelled back, unable to stay quiet. your heart felt heavy, seeing him here for the first time in 8 months. it was normal for him to disappear on you without notice, for him to break your heart time and time again. but 8 months was the longest he’d ever left you. what in the hell was he doing back at your door? 

“y/n, love, can we just sit for a minut-”

“no. say what you need to say, so you can leave.” in a matter of minutes you had become too fired up to sit back down, and you weren’t in the mood to hear him out, not when you had spent 8 months putting yourself back together. 

and how dare he call you love again. 

“okay, okay.” you could tell he was slightly frightened by your raised voice. good. he deserved to be as scared as you were when you woke up to see that he was gone once again, wondering if he was safe. if he was okay. if he even cared about you at all. 

“i don’t know how to tell you. fuck,” he whispered, pacing the floor. you stepped away from the front door, clearing your throat and growing impatient. 

“i was afraid.” he stopped in place, looking at you. “of you. of... commitment.”

god, he sounded so typical. 

“and i let that drive me away. i thought if i just disappeared, it would hurt less for both of us.” 

if you had any doubts that sunghoon was sincere, they vanished at the sight of a tear rolling down his cheek. 

“and god, i was so fucking wrong.” his voice broke, and you felt your heart break along with it.

“everything i did, everywhere i went, i was kicking myself. because i wished you were there with me. doing it all with me. and i knew i fucked up.”

as compelled as you were to forgive him, you had realized a lot in the past 8 months. 

“you left several times before, hoon.” he winced at the nickname. “and yeah, you fucked up. every. single. time. you walked out that door.” your voice was growing hoarse from the yelling, and because you were on the verge of tears. how could he do this to you? how could he show up again, ruining all the progress you’d made on letting him go? 

“but i’m here now,” he whispered. “i’m telling you that i love you.” he steps forward, cupping your jaw with one hand. “please give me another chance.”

you pushed his chest away from you. “how do i know you won’t just up and leave again, park sunghoon?” you were full on crying then, unable to act tough and unbothered any longer. “you broke me. i spent so much time cleaning up the mess you made of me. and you come marching over here to make a mess of me again.” 

his expression was worried, sorrowful, pitiful. more tears fell as he took a step towards you again, tucking the hair behind your ear. “i won’t make that mess again, y/n. please trust me. i love you, so much. and i’m so fucking sorry it took me that long to come to terms with that.” 

just as the temptation to melt into his arms began, your phone rang from the couch. you jumped then, staring at sunghoon, your tear-soaked eyes meeting his tear-soaked ones. you backed toward the couch and picked up the phone. 

“hey,” you started, trying not to let it show that you had just been broken into pieces once more. you couldn’t let him know. 

but jungwon didn’t need a magnifying glass to find even the tiniest cracks in your composure. “baby, are you okay?” 

the worry in jungwon’s voice saved you, wrapping a bandage around your heart and knocking some sense into you. jungwon was love. jungwon was compassion. jungwon was everything sunghoon had been lacking for the past several years. you weren’t dumb enough to throw that to the wolves. 

“i’m okay, wonnie.” you looked up, locking eyes with sunghoon who was holding his breath. “i’ve just had a bit of a rough day.”

“i’m on my way home now. i was calling to see if you wanted me to grab us dinner.” you could hear the windshield wipers going through the phone. had it started to rain? “how do tacos sound, lovely?”

“sounds perfect, jungwon. thank you.” sunghoon lowered his eyes, staring at the floor and putting his hands in his pockets. 

and all of a sudden, it didn’t hurt so much anymore. the pain seemed to be numbed by some sort of metaphorical cold compress, and you didn’t feel so bad for sunghoon in that moment. he had dug his own grave on this one. it wasn’t your fault if he hated lying in it. 

“i’ll be home soon. cozy up with a blanket, okay? it’ll make you feel better. besides, the rain is going to cool down the air. i want you to be warm until i get there.” jungwon giggled into the speaker. “i have plenty of hugs to catch up on. should warm you up real nice, i hope.”

you couldn’t hide your smile even if you tried. wiping your cheeks, you hung up the phone and set it on the coffee table, next to your book. 

sunghoon walked closer to you. “i should be going...”

“yeah. that would probably be best.” you looked down, crossing your arms.

you were caught off guard by him pulling you into a hug. you were stiff for a moment, but the familiar feel of his arms around you caused your heart to betray you. hugging him back, you buried your face in his chest one last time.

“i’m sorry i couldn’t be who you needed me to be.” he whispered, resting his chin on your head. “if jungwon ever mistreats you, i’m here.” you felt a teardrop in your hair as his chest shook against your cheek. “one call, and i’m here.”

you pulled away, shaking your head. “he won’t.” you went to the door and held it open, taking one last look at your first love. there was pain in his eyes, beggin you to let him stay, and he was still crying. 

you couldn’t remember if you’d ever seen him cry at all. 

you managed to tear your eyes away from him. “it’s too late, hoon.”

he nodded, eyes never leaving the ground as he walked out the door. 

~

thanks for reading ! with love, sunghoons-mole

#enhypen #enhypen fic #enhypen sunghoon #park sunghoon #sunghoon #enhypen jungwon #yang jungwon #jungwon #sunghoon fic #jungwon fic