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#in the dream he tortured me for a full on 6 hours
cryptidko · 5 months
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Isn't it fun to wake up in a cold sweat after a nightmare where Bill Cipher appeared in front of you ominously, and then waking up to find a B&N receipt in your email...
And having no recollection of buying the book at all
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mangogobibiboo · 6 months
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Bokuto Dreams of You
TimeSKIP!Bokuto x Reader
Warnings: Minor bodily injury, and flufff
Synopsis: Bo has a little crush on a medical team member, but he can't seem to do anything about it.
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“ᴛᴇʟʟ ᴍᴇ ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪꜱ ʀᴇᴀʟ. ᴛᴇʟʟ ᴍᴇ ɪ'ᴍ ɴᴏᴛ ᴅʀᴇᴀᴍɪɴɢ.”
Dreams are interesting. They are a way to live out their wildest fantasies without the constraints of reality. Things don't need to make sense; they need to fill a desire or give your brain something to do while resting. Whether for comfort, love, adventure, horror or just plain fun, it is up to the dreamer.
For the past few months, Bokuto has been plagued with the same dream almost every night. The only time he didn't have this dream was when he was so exhausted from his day that he would be asleep before his head even hit the pillow. The dream would always go the same. He would be in practice, he would run up to hit the ball, and he'd miss. That itself was not surprising. It happens. But then the ball would hit his head and go over the net. The middle blocker on the other side would slam the ball down in the heat of the moment, not taking into account that it would hit Bokuto in the head again. With the second impact of the ball hitting his head, Bokuto is then knocked to the floor, unconscious. When he opens his eyes, he sees you checking his eyes, asking if he is okay.
Now, why would he be dreaming about you? You were the intern doctor who had joined the Jackels medical team. As soon as this boy laid eyes on you, he was head over heels. You were just so thoughtful and kind in his eyes, and you were also the first person to make him feel nervous. Bokuto was usually boisterous, proud, and outgoing; he had the utmost confidence in himself, but when it came to asking you out, he froze.
It's sad to admit, but he thought he wasn't good enough for you. He had barely gotten by with passing grades in high school, and he opted not to go to college to spare himself the torture of more school. You, on the other hand, were always praised for your intelligence. You had done your best in school and worked to graduate medical school with the best grades possible. Not to mention, you were also a couple of years older; you seemed so mature and sophisticated to him.
Bokuto had just woken up; he lay there staring up at the ceiling. He was kind of disappointed to wake up if he was honest. That was genuinely unusual; it was game day. He was always so excited for game day. But he wanted to spend more time with you. Turning over to face his alarm clock, it read 6:30 a.m. So it was still about two hours till he had to be up. But if he got up now, he could help you carry the medical supplies to the bus.
You were the newbie, so you got stuck with the scut work, and you always insisted on taking all your medical supplies in one trip, no matter how much there was. Bokuto had seen you shuffle in the gym many times with your arms full of first aid kits and boxes of other medical things he didn't know the name of, but he had seen them plenty of times.
It was one of your hauls to the bus two months ago that this puppy crush sparked. You bumped into him. You didn't even look up, opting to gather your supplies instead. When he crouched down to help you, he saw you look up in shock. You admitted that you had thought he was a matted wall. The supplies were piled at least half a foot above your head, so it wasn't much of a stretch.
The thought of you waddling around, looking like that, made him giggle a little as he made his way into the gym, looking for you. He had only missed you by a few minutes; you were already setting this up in the medical room.
"Need any help?" he pokes his head through the door with the brightest smile he could muster.
"Ah! Bokuto! I told you not to scare me like that anymore." You fain a pout as you look back at him from your place atop the step stool. "But yes, I do. Could you hand me the things in that box so I can put them away?"
He set down his duffle bag and made his way over to you.
"You know, Bokuto, I've been wondering, why do you always help me in the mornings? Don't you have some extra practice you want to get in?"
That caught him a little by surprise…was it too soon to admit the real reason he's been helping you?
"O-Of course. I only got to do 100 spikes after practice yesterday. But no one is here early enough to practice with me." he chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck.
'Only !?' It always amazed you how Bokuto could say the most extraordinary things in the most ordinary way. He was truly one of a kind. You smile to yourself as you put the boxes in their place.
"Shoyo probably would if I asked him…" he trailed off the last part, realizing his cover was blown if he finished the thought. "But he's not as good at setting as Tsumu Tsumu, so it wouldn't help much." Nice save.
"Hey, do you know when the season is ending?" You keep your face toward the cupboard, only glancing at him.
"Hmm ya, it sucks; Omi said we have two months left. I wanted it to last longer."
"Well, maybe going out to dinner sometime after the season ends would make it suck less?" He looks up at you with a bit of confusion, but that is quickly replaced with a big smile.
"Yeah, the team is going for a barbeque after our last game! So that does make it suck a little less!"
"That's not what I meant." You laugh, quickly losing your nerve. "I was trying to ask you out. You know- like on a date." You still refused to face him; you chewed your lip, waiting for a response.
Suddenly, Bokuto grabs you by the shoulders and turns you towards him. The stepstool had put you at his eye level. His eyes were wide, as bright as ever.
"Really? A Date!? With ME!?" He points at himself, making you laugh.
"God. coulda ya be any more uncool." Astumu's voice piped up from the doorway. Bokuto, to let you go immediately, huffed and crossed his arms on his chest like a toddler.
"Go away, Tsum-Tsum, you're ruining the moment!" Astumu scoffed and left the doorway. Bokuto turned his attention back to you. But it was too late; Atsumu had made it clear he was being uncool. Bokuto was a lot of things, but one thing he refused to be was uncool.
"Now, where were we?"
"Wait- NO, Bokuto, don't lean on that-" He had leaned onto a stack of boxes that you had yet to unpack in an attempt to pull a cool pose. Unfortunately, they weren't very stable, and as soon he put a little pressure on them, the whole stack tumbled on top of him. And one of the heavy boxes near the top definitely had landed on his head. Or at least you think it did, judging by the thump sound you heard.
You rush to him, moving the boxes out of the way, and place his head on your lap. "Are you okay?"
He seemed a little loopy. You had to tap his cheek a couple of times to get him to focus. "Tell me this is real. Tell me I'm not dreaming." He reached out and cupped your cheek; you nuzzled into his touch.
"Of course not, but you have to get up so I can check your head. If you have a concussion, you can't play today."
Luckily, he didn't have a concussion, and the game went great. The Jackels won. But what made that game so great was the good luck kiss he got from you before it started.
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hexonthepeach · 8 months
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a gentle tongue breaketh the bone | 9: secret
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pairing: fem hybrid fox omega!reader/hybrid Alpha!nct 127
tags: reverse harem, non-traditional omegaverse hybrid! cyberpunk au, pack dynamics, polyamory, slowburn/slowbuild, angst & hurt/comfort, heavy content warnings inc. torture, graphic violence, suicidal ideation, explicit sexual content
summary: the year is 2127. decades of eugenics and warfare have led to the rise of designated populations: the ruler Alphas and their rare, prized omegas sequestered from the Beta population. in the aftermath of the War of the Two Tigers, New Goryeo ushers in an Imperial dynasty determined not by birthright but by the alliance of the Syndicate’s clancorps to choose the best pack of your generation. you are destined to take your place within the Imperial harem as a queen, and–perhaps–Imperatrix herself
but you have a secret, written into your skin and bones–one that could easily kill you, depending on who finds it out
ten years ago you chose your Alpha and their pack in a fateful meeting
now, you must make them choose you
[masterlist & glossary] [read on AO3] [0: prologue] [1: escape, again] [2: lost and found] [3: returned] [4: bound] [5: home] [6: gift] [7: reunion] [8: security]
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wc: 4.2k
chapter warnings: [redacted] is a menace
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"Send me back to the Dome," you say, trying to sound authoritative rather than a beggar. "I need cryotherapy."
Taeil pauses in the middle of checking his screens, face limned in a gradient of green to red.
"You'll just wake up in heat, again." He says, not looking at you fully. "Like I said, it's a stopgap.  Not a full stop."
"There has to be some way." You try not to sob, wiping snot away from your face with a microscope lens cleaning tissue. "They can isolate me better there."
"Taeyong risked exposure bringing you here." The doctor sounds more terse than usual, raised light pen highlighting specific data points on the glass screen. "If you go back they'll know you aren't being mated."
"I'm not!" You can't help the pitch change, voice cracking as you cycle through the latest round of humiliation. "He doesn't really want me, none of you want me. I'm just an inconvenience and a joke to you."
"No," he says, shoulders slumping. "You're not. Not a joke, at least. Inconvenience, maybe."
"But you just made a joke." The wetness flooding your nasal cavity makes you splutter rather than laugh. 
"I wasn't trying to."
You fall apart at that, actually laughing. It devolves into hiccups as you lie down on the cracked couch next to his station. The stained vinyl sticks to your cheek, blessedly cool.
"Can at least one of you have a normal response to this?" 
That earns you a sidelong glance. "I'm not sure we're clear on what a normal response to this situation is supposed to look like."
"A hug would be nice," you say, meekly.
"Not exactly standard Imperial protocol." He adjusts his glasses, mouth opening and closing before he decides whatever he's going to say next isn't worth the effort. "We're looking out for your safety."
"I don't care." 
"You will when this is over."
"I said, I don't care." You roll over, circled to protect your vulnerable belly but also to indicate your displeasure. Your tail flops against your leg.
"Did you eat?"
"Yes."
"Did you get enough sleep?"
"I dreamt about him." Bitterness drips from every word. "I always dream about him."
You have the impression from Taeil's sigh that he might tell you that he's not that kind of doctor. Maybe, like Yuta, he'll ask you to pay by the hour. You'd had your share of what the Imperial college considered psychiatric treatment, parts interrogation and parts reconditioning–you don't want it from him. You fold closer to the seatback, sniffling. 
"I was there, you know." He says, instead.
Your entire body goes rigid, shivers racing up your spine. "I don't remember."
"I was younger than you are now. We all were." He pauses, sucking in a breath. "Just kids."
You don't turn over but your jaw follows the direction of your ears, looking back at him. You know how old they were all too well–the same cohort as Johnny. Old enough to vote and die in a war, not at the age where they still slept with the dolls they'd been given for their last birthday celebration.
"And I was thirteen," you say. "Why does he treat it like it's my fault? Why is he angry at me?"
"He's not angry at you."
Your hackles rise at his words, fingers digging into a hole in the upholstery.
"I feel hate," you say. "I feel resentment."
"We all feel it. You just feel it the most." Taeil's hand ghosts over your head. "Do you understand what a pack bond is like?"
You shake your head, letting his fingertips graze your scalp. After a moment he indulges you, blunt nails scratching the place where your ear's fur blends into more human hair. He stops when you begin to lean into it.
"It's like what you can do through your own bond, in a way. Takes more time and exposure but once you fall into a routine your needs and the pack's start to blend together. Some of us chose Johnny, some of us chose Taeyong. Once they established a bondmark it didn't make a difference."
You sit up, swaying a bit with how dizzy you feel. The sedatives you’d swallowed were wearing off already, heat metabolism burning through everything.
"Who did you choose?"
"Does it matter?' He refuses to answer, going back to his work, but your stare remains fixed on the side of his face. Puzzling out what had bothered you about him for the past few days hadn't been easy but one thing is right there for you, now: the scars.
"Did he mark you, too?"
You watch him freeze, face grim. "No."
"But wouldn't something like that cause–"
"I said, no." Taeil's usual air of disinterest breaks, his voice raised. "It doesn't work that way."
It doesn't matter to you. You reach out to touch his face, nails trailing down his jaw. He needs a shave, skin dry but much more warm than you expected. Taeil is out of reach a few seconds later, chair rolling away now that he's stood out of it. 
"What are you doing?" There's a bit of menace in his tone. "Stop it."
You expect the order, shifting back on your knees. The room is suffusing with a clean, sweet flavor as you breath through your mouth–like pear or another white fruit with a hint of burnt sugar from his anxiety. 
It doesn't matter if it's coming from you, or him. The effects are transparent in the way he's mirroring you, breaths coming more rapidly as his pupils dilate. He removes his glasses, wiping the instant sheen of sweat from his face.
"You're all cowards," you say earnestly. You flex your muscles, unable to spring up but stuck in place. For now.
He frowns but doesn't speak, reaching for something on the desk as you twitch and test the limits of his order's hold.
"Hiding behind your prime like none of you can make a decision for yourselves," you continue, making it off the couch. You sink to the floor for a moment before you find strength in your screaming leg muscles. Taeil is busy rotating a glass ampoule into his syringe gun, but he has enough sense to try again. 
"Be still," he says. 
You stand up only to lurch forward, hands colliding with the tiled floor. 
"If you stick that needle in me again, you'll regret it," you pant. You let your body lose tension, your tail the only thing rigid as it extends behind you.
"This isn't for you," he says. You look up, confusion fleeting as you watch the device disappear into the crook of his arm under a rolled-up sleeve. "At least one of us has to be in control." 
You cackle, hiccuping again. "Oh now that's funny."
Jungwoo is the one to collect you, your body still trembling with a mixture of hysterics and blinding-hot rage–mostly at the fact that you continue to submit after the third and fourth command. 
"You alright, Doc?" he asks, cheerily poking you with his nightstick.
"Nothing I can't sleep off," Taeil answers from the other side of the room. "I recommend she get some rest, too."
"Oh that should be easy enough." You flinch when he pulls you up, the floor much more appealing to your animal brain after the continuous reminder to stay down.
"Come on," he says, holding you by the neck when you can finally stand on your own. Under any other circumstances you'd balk at being led this way but the alternative of the weapon in his other hand has you compliant. Some instinct tells you he wouldn't hesitate to use force, however nice he might seem.
You swivel your head when you pass by the commons, catching Mark sitting at a table eating something from a bowl. He doesn't acknowledge you, nodding to Jungwoo instead.
"Y'all good?"
Jungwoo's thumb strokes your spine, making your tail bat against his leg. 
"Passed her checkup with flying colors," he says. "No Containment, yet."
"Good," Mark says, going back to the faraway look that indicates he's reading again through his AR. "Switch off at three."
"Yuta's still dealing with the situation downstairs. I'll have him get the next meal."
"I thought Taeil was cooking?"
"Old man needs a nap," Jungwoo says. "Make sure to feed the freak."
You stay wordless through the exchange, skin prickling at the constant pressure beneath your hair. 
"Such a good little pet," he says quietly once he's back to leading you upstairs, hand splaying over your back. You can't help but feel a little warmed by the expression, even as fear has your pulse racing.
"Why did you lie?" you ask. 
"I'll be honest with you if you indulge me in something," he says. 
You have no reason to trust him but the possibility of not having to return to your cell is too delectable to pass up, soothed by his easy manner. You give him a careful nod.
"Good, let's take a little detour."
Your legs are burning by the time you make it to the fourth level, surprised by the shift in layout even past the second. Here the open space is widened, walls no longer gray industrial synthetics but a rich dark wood slotted together modularly, doors spaced apart and lined by glass and soft lighting. The plants here are mostly fake, you notice–tasteful reconstructions mixed with statuary, the occasional nook between rooms exposing the glass edge of the building.
"Are these all your rooms?"
"Doyoung and Taeyong live up in the presidential suite," he points. "This floor is for the high-ranking Felids. They're territorial like us, of course."  
You follow him to the far end, a strangely open door beckoning. At a closer range you see the thick slider has been forced open, bent so far outward it's cracked on the curve.
"Is that . . .?"
He brushes your ear with his nose, scenting you from behind. "Don't you want to see?"
"No," you murmur. You feel weak, trying to fight the contradictory emotions of fear and curiosity that have you pushing back against his willowy frame. 
"Silly." He nudges you forward. "What are you afraid of?"
"Is this some kind of test?" You panic, looking back at him. Jungwoo has the nightstick raised like a conductor's baton, tapping it thoughtlessly against his shoulder.
"Maybe," he says, walking past you towards the door. "Maybe I just want to help you."
"Why?" you ask, with no answer. You're drawn to follow, finding his green scent a welcome thread in a tapestry of the rich leather and wood smells that have settled over the area, most of them emanating from the open door.
Just this once, you think. He won't know.
You slip into the residence behind him, avoiding the jagged edges of the broken door. The lights are dim and the glass filtered to maximum opacity, which makes the apartment seem smaller than what the space belies. It takes up an entire corner of the building, two floors opening up once you're in, drifting past the scattered wreckage of broken furniture and glass partitions to a common room centered around a circular biome aquarium that's blessedly still intact.
"A bit of a mess, isn't it," Jungwoo says, turning off a floor autocleaner thudding useless between a wall and what looks to be a broken bar cart. The contents of the kitchen counters are cleared, dry goods exploded over the marble and walls like manic art. You smell coffee and flour and fried electronics, but most of all the citrusy scent of a distressed feline.
"Was this all because of me?" you ask.
"Of course," Jungwoo says, already halfway up the floating staircase leading to the loft. 
There's a more lived-in quality to this space, minimal as it is, the low bed flanked by an out-of-place VR station and industrial cabinetry. Your chest tightens seeing the human traces in the unmade bed sheets, the towel abandoned on the floor leading to the modular bathroom.
"Why did you bring me here?"
"Everything here is yours," Jungwoo says, sitting down at the VR station, legs stretched out. "Take what you want. You'll need your mate's scent to get through your heat comfortably."
Your nails dig into your palms, a violent buzzing in your head. The circular mirror over the bed reflects a much smaller, meeker person than you imagined yourself to be, hunched down and ears pinned.
"I can't. I don't belong here." 
"Come here." Jungwoo beckons. 
You approach a little more quickly than you would under normal circumstances. Compulsion isn't necessary when your fox needs to be soothed, discomfort electrifying you from head to toe. The Canid recognizes it immediately, stroking your head and neck until you're more calm. 
"You have nothing to be afraid of," he murmurs. "I'm going to show you something I found when I did a little digging."
He hands you the wired headset from the desk. You find it difficult to put on, allowing him to bring it over your ears gently and tighten the straps to keep it from wobbling.
"They don't let us use these in the Dome," you say aloud, feeling vulnerable with the sudden blindfolding effect as he lowers the visor for you, soft lights blinking on your peripheral vision. 
"Don't worry, I'll guide you," Jungwoo says, powering it on. You turn this way and that when the virtual console appears, displaying a minimalistic view of the surrounding room. A red warning flashes to indicate you're an unauthorized user, quickly blinking away. 
You're not sure how he's controlling the deck remotely, but then he lifts your hand to bring one of several access points to the forefront. The file markers and previews indicate reconstructed scenarios, something you knew from crime melos as detailed analysis tools. It was the norm to record certain events such as meetings or ceremonies. What you'd seen was more sinister: surveillance and evidence capture.
"Don't be scared," Jungwoo whispers, noting the way your body goes rigid at the thought of being exposed to something overwhelming. "These are very boring immersions."
He helps you move through a series of environmental reconstructions before finding a nondescript file without a preview, last access timestamp a week ago. An encryption key table appears as soon as he taps it with your finger and he chuckles, vibrating you both.
"What is it?" you ask, jerking at the sudden sound.
Jungwoo guides your finger to trace characters and numbers, each highlighted entry bringing you to a clearer understanding. 
"How do you know my real birthdate?" you ask. It wasn't recorded, wasn't ever shared with anyone. The registered, publicized version had been chosen for astronomical significance, just a number to you. 
"The other half of the encryption are the geo coordinates of what I suspect might be your birth location," he says. "Are you ready?"
"No." You squirm. "I don't understand." 
"If I just told you about this you'd never believe me." 
Jungwoo pulls you down onto his knees, pinning you by a hand around your waist. You're forced to finalize the entry, green pulse indicating the key is correct.
The environment builds in layers, schematics to colors to overlay textures, finally resolving with light when the time-matching settles on the right point in the recording. You didn't need the additional details–recognition in a sketch of a place so familiar to you that tears are springing to your eyes seeing it again.
"I don't understand," you repeat, much more sadly. 
"It's more common than you think. One of your staff sets a few microcameras, collects them the next shift. Usually smuggle them out by swallowing them. No transmission, so the censors can't catch them. Temporary enough to miss their sweeps."
You're standing in your Palace residence again, your garden beckoning through the sheer curtains, moved by a manufactured breeze. The bridge to your isle in the canal system leads to a much less resolved external view of the rebuilt Imperial city, the accuracy blurring a landscape you know like the veins in the back of your hand.
"There's an incredible market for this stuff," Jungwoo says, showing you how to navigate without moving, spreading your fingers. "Some of your kin cut out the middlemen and release their own immersions. Fully staged and edited of course." 
You squeak at the strange sight of a figure moving past you, unresolved with details outside of a basic skin. The person looks monstrous with flattened features and jerky movements.
"This is raw–not a lot of scrubbing. Whoever finalized the recording had a clear target."
You're turned to face yourself–not a reflection, but a fully rendered simulacra. You're curled into your favorite armchair, a daily scroll of events and schedules abandoned in your lap as you talk to someone ignored by the reconstruction.
You can't hear anything but you can read your lips–this conversation had taken place only a season ago, confirmed when you move closer to parse the pixelated images on the scroll–each colorful invitation burnt into memory with the detailed preparations in costuming and social ceremony.
"How did you find out about this," you ask. The sensation of viewing yourself in this way is akin to hundreds of insects crawling over your skin, your heart thudding in your chest.
"Oh he's careful. Just not careful enough at home." Jungwoo rests his chin on your shoulder. "Don't worry, this is a private collection."
He scrubs through the immersion, prompting a jump to another–this one a few years ago by the drastic change in decor and your own styling. The flash forward makes you dizzy, watching the ghost of yourself move around your home-turned-panopticon, reading a dog-eared 21st century romance book.
You spread your palm to freeze the experience after the Dome's sun sets to be replaced by a now doubly artificial moon. 
"Do you want to know the most watched parts of these recordings?"
You can't stop him from following you into your bedroom. Even going back in time there's nothing obscene here; the recording area didn't appear to include your bathing chamber, in a different building entirely. No, here you merely sleep–curled into thick pillows without a whim as to the eyes drinking every detail in.
"You're cute when you're chasing something in your dreams," Jungwoo observes.
"They're nightmares." You pull free of his grasp, fighting the headset. You've seen enough. Once you're out you find a ghostly version of the feed projected across the surfaces around you, including his amused features.
"Why show me this?" You twist to snarl at him. "It means nothing."
You're met with self-satisfaction. Jungwoo's tongue darts over his bottom lip, distracted by your face inches from his. His hands raise in a gesture of surrender.  
"I'm on your side," he says. "Even if Johnny doesn't want to admit it, you're our pack's omega already. You should know it."
"Ours?" You feel a twinge in your chest. Still wary, you test his conviction by adjusting on his lap, nose brushing against his. He isn't caught off guard in the slightest, slender hands engulfing your cheeks. 
"You should be taken care of. Treasured." He says, searching your face. 
You enjoy the sound of that more than you expect, unable to keep yourself from purring in agreement. You're wary of his motives but you need the touch more than oxygen.
"And you'll be the one to do it?" your voice goes husky. "Won't you get in trouble with the others?"
His scent response is sharp. The crushed hemp odor is a relief from Johnny's all-pervasive presence, making you feel lighter.
"You're not the only one they underestimate." He grins wickedly. "Do you think you can trust me?"
"No," you say, remembering Yuta's admonishment. "I don't trust you."
He pouts a little, brushing your lips with his thumb and making you shudder in pleasure. "You're such a funny little thing. Why deny yourself what you want?" 
There's an irony in his words, seeing lust reflected in his eyes under the fall of his thick lashes. He's a very beautiful creature; it would be simple for your fox to roll into this seduction and take what you want. Perhaps you'd even enjoy it, losing yourself in his soft voice and his crooked smile. 
But you recognize a fellow mesopredator, and unlike Taeyong or Haechan he's more of a threat to you and your long-term survival. 
"What do you want to do to me?" you ask, slipping out of his hold to lean back against the desk, gripping the edge until your nails hurt. "Do you think you can claim me?"
"Claim isn't the word I'd use. Maybe instead . . . please you?"
He bumps your chest with his head, scenting you. Whether it's the surroundings or the warm bloom of arousal in your stomach you let him explore you through the fabric, teeth catching on your undergarment as he nips at your breast. Your breath hitches, back arching to bring yourself closer as warmth spreads through your core.
"Does that feel good?" he asks.
"Yes . . ." you whine. 
It's a dangerous game but you're wound tight, hoping to get a little relief before you're forced back to your cell.
Jungwoo follows the lead, head dipping into the unmarked side of your neck, tongue slipping over your sensitive skin. Your knees threaten to give out as he presses his lips to your gland between gentle licks, touch wandering lower to sneak under the edge of your shirt.
His hands are cool against your flushed skin, and the shock breaks the spell.
"Not here. I don't want to do this here," you say. You're surprised it works—he pauses to breathe hot against your collarbone.
"Why not?" 
"It's my first time," you say. Your face is burning, heartbeat loud in your ears. 
"Again, why not?" He peers up at you charmingly.
"I'm scared," you say. You mean it, even if it's making your fox all the more intrigued.
"How about just a taste instead," he says, hands digging into your hips. In an instant you're pushed further on the desk, toes slipping off the floor as he forces your legs apart, burying his head between your thighs. You cry out, somewhere between protest and pleasure at finding his face against you through the thin material.
Icy fear melts into something dangerous as his tongue flattens against the moisture already there, more springing up in response as pleasure courses through you. You don't have the sense to stop him, fingers disappearing into his fluffy hair as he traces the shape of you through your clothes. 
"So sweet," he says, muffled. "It's too bad you're not ready."
He breaks free with a final, long swipe ending in a tug of his teeth that makes you curl around him, legs twitching.
"Don't stop–"
"No." The word has a little more edge to it as his hand closes over yours. It's then you realize that you've grabbed the nightstick abandoned on the desk. "Let go."
"I wasn't–" you begin to say, the weapon wrested from your limp grasp. 
"You don't have to lie to me," he says, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. "Your body tells the truth."
He kisses the edge of your frown, pulling aside when you try to follow with your lips. His forehead bumps against yours, hunched over to circle his hips into your groin so you can feel the hard, long line of his arousal. If you'd been fearful of the toy he'd brought you, you're terrified now.
"You're not ready," he repeats, arched nose pushing against your cheek. You can smell yourself on his breath as he huffs, slightly bitter. "You’ll know when you’re begging for it."
The contact is too much of a relief for you to cringe away, your legs wrapping around his hips to try and bring him against you again. Despite everything screaming at you to stop, the pressure is incredible, your sex throbbing with each roll against him.
"Please, you said you'd help me," you blurt out.
Jungwoo has the nerve to laugh at your attempt, extricating himself and turning to look at something over your head.
"You called?" 
Yuta's voice is a shock. You'd half-expected it to emerge from your agent, the emergency call you'd snuck through still pulsing red with no response. Instead you find him leaning casually over the railing from the stairs, gaze narrowed and assessing. 
From his bored posture, he's been watching awhile. 
"I didn't want to be alone with him," you say. "He can't control himself."
"Looks to be the other way around from here," he drawls. 
Whatever hope you'd had that he'd be upset at the situation disappears in an instant. You slide down with your legs firmly pressed together, feeling exposed.
"She called you? Smart." Jungwoo sniffs, only a little displeased. 
"Not really." Yuta says. "What's the story, then?"
"Well, she slipped out. Couldn't help herself but run here," Jungwoo says, tapping away at his hand with the rod. "When I came to get her she tried to get into my good graces, as you can see."
"But you brought me here to show me . . ." you don't continue, watching Yuta nod towards the other man with no acknowledgement of your rebuttal. Your heart sinks in your chest. 
"Might want to add some flavor. A little realism."
"Sure thing, boss." Jungwoo jabs the nightstick into your hip, hesitating only a second to let you understand what's about to happen. You freeze, trapped against the desk, adrenaline slowing time down to a horrible crawl.
"Sorry we couldn't play more," Jungwoo says. 
Then he activates the power switch, obliterating any thoughts or words you might have in an explosion of pure pain.
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neonacity · 2 years
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ARCANE : INIZIO | CH.4 | NCT DREAM X READER
Summary: When human deviants granted with the abilities of the legendary Arcana cards find themselves racing against devious forces, they are left to make a choice that might change the fate of the world itself: be the victims of the game, or become the masters of it themselves.
But will this war end with a crowned hero?
Or will it just create another mad villain?
*****
Note: This is the second book of Arcane. The happenings in this story is a prequel to the first installment which you can check in my Masterlist. Since the lore is highly dependent on the first book, I highly suggest you check it out first—otherwise, new readers might have a hard time understanding what is happening here. Expect lots of time jumps and flashbacks throughout the chapters.
Pairings: Dream 00’ Line + Mark x Reader
Trigger Warnings/Themes: romance, violence, torture, trauma, poly dynamics, suggestive themes, language, psychological, mystery, sci-fi. The concept of the tarot or Arcana cards will be loosely used throughout the series. Note that I am not a trained doctor so there may be some slips here and there about medical things. Again, this is a work of fiction and I am not implying any likeness between the characterization here of the boys to their real life counterparts. I also reserve the rights to all my work—I do not post anywhere else other than tumblr. Minors DNI. Please do not repost. I only publish my works in Tumblr.
© neonacity, 2022
Previously > CH. 1 | CH.2 | CH.3
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[6 years ago, Rosewood Academy]
"Do you want to know what I'm thinking right now?"
The snapping sounds of thin branches breaking under heavy leather boots mixed with the buzzing hums of the forest insects. A light-haired boy of about sixteen grinned to himself as he hacked an offending stem hanging low on his face with a thicker branch he had picked up earlier. He didn't need to look around to know that the girl trudging behind him is frowning at the path they are trying to traverse, wearing that signature frown that always makes him want to tease her more. When she cursed under her breath, he tried his hardest to keep his shoulders from betraying the laugh he had been trying to hold back.
"What?" He asked casually, voice steady as if he wasn't grinning from amusement. He deftly ducked under a flowering branch of a tree before proceeding to go down the small dirt path they have been following for about half an hour now.
"Make a guess."
"Hm... That you hate how there are spiderwebs on your hair?" He proposed lightly. A slight scoff behind him answered his question.
"Spiders are not a part of my ick."
"How about inhaling three dozen insects so far?"
A pause.
"Okay, that is gross. But no. It's much worse than that."
Jaemin stopped and finally turned to face the girl behind him, his grin now in full display. She paused just in time before she crashed against him but he still easily caught her by the arm to steady her balance. His smile widened as she tried to find her footing on the rocky path, her face ducked away from him.  At this distance, he could fully see how he had grown just a bit taller than her since the last time she visited the Academy.
"What's on your mind then?" He asked again as he continued to observe her with his hooded gaze. When her eyes finally found his face once more, his fingers squeezed just a little bit tighter around her elbow before he finally let her go.
"I think you're bluffing. There is no overlooking oak tree in the middle of the forest. There is no view and you’re just leading me nowhere."
His brows slightly raised in interest. "Oh? Why do you think I brought you here then, noona?"
"I don't know. Two possibilities. One, you're planning to finally murder me and bury me under the dead branches."
"Mm. And the second possibility?"
"You're trying to flirt with me."
He paused, letting her words hang in the air for a moment.
"What do you think is the answer then?"
The slight change in his tone made her stop and finally think over what she just said. From the looks of it, she just came out with her guesses out of nowhere and didn't even consider them seriously. The look of dawning realization in her eyes made Jaemin's grin slowly melt into a much more gentle smile. He watched as her lips slightly parted, already knowing the next words that would come out of them.
"Jaemin, we've already talked about this before..."
His expression didn't falter. "We did. You told me to wait. And I did."
"I didn't tell you to—look, it's just a crush. All boys your age have it."
"You're talking to me as if I'm a kid. You're only two years older than me," he said steadily, voice as calm as ever. He closely watched her now, trying to break down every emotion that quickly flitted over her features. He knew she was trying her best to hold back, but she couldn't hide anything from him, even if she tries. She can act all she wants, but he knows she also feels the same for him, even for just a little bit.
He sighed and glanced away momentarily as he thought of another approach.
"Jaemin…"
"Is it because of Mark? Do you like him?"
She frowned at his question.
"What? He's my best friend."
It wasn't a direct answer, so he pushed on. "Is there anyone you like then?"
"I am not planning to date anyone right now so stop—"
"Then one last question. Do you not like me? Is that it?"
The way she froze made it seem like he asked her such a shocking thing. To be fair to her, he couldn't really blame her reaction, especially with how forward he is being now. Though he may not have grown up with her just like Mark did, they've also known each other since they were kids. She had always been aware about his childhood admiration for her growing up, but it is only now that he had decided to stop beating around the bush and put it out there once and for all.
"Just tell me if you like me or not, noona. If you say now that you don't feel the same, then I promise, I will leave you alone."
The look on her face almost made Jaemin want to punch himself. She looked so torn that it took every fiber of his being to not reach out to her and apologize. He may be determined, but he also didn't want to be an asshole. Still, he tried his best not to to be swayed by guilt for the sake of getting an answer.
"I... li—"
The loud crash of something heavy falling to the forest floor made the two of them flinch and quickly turn towards the direction of the sound. The noise seems to have come a few meters from their current spot, but they couldn't see anything beyond a few feet thanks to the thickness of the shrubbery framing the rest of the path beyond. Jaemin immediately reached out for her hand and drew her closer to him as they tried to listen for more additional noises from the distance.
"What's beyond there?"
"A clearing. And an ancient oak tree," he answered warily. "I think we should go. It could be a wild animal."
He was about to steer her back to the way they came from when another noise split the air. This time, it sounded like a low growl that quickly intensified into a shriek. Beyond them, a flock of birds took off from the trees, disturbed by the haunting noise.
"Jaemin, that's not an animal."
"Yeah. It could be much worse. Let's go, we need to go back to Rosewood as soon as possible," he said, his jaw tight as he tried to steer her urgently with a hand in the middle of her back. She barely budged, however, her head still turned towards the distance beyond.
"No, I think we should check what it is."
His eyes widened at her words. "What? You heard it. That is no animal or human. I'm not walking there to get the both of us killed!"
"Exactly. Whatever that is, it's something different. The grounds are shrouded by a protection shield, right? No regular human or supernatural can breach this area unless—"
Jaemin stopped dead in his tracks as he realized what she was trying to say. He turned to look at her and she slightly raised her brows at him in return.
"...They are related to the Arcana," she finished. It took him a while to finally react to that, unsure of what to feel about about the situation. Finally, he sighed in resignation.
"One look. If we see something weird there, I am whisking the two of us away from here, okay?"
The thankful smile she gave him only took a slight edge of the nervousness spreading in his chest. Swallowing, he stepped forward again to tread back towards the source of the sound, his fingers wrapping around the stick he had been using to clear their way earlier. He is convinced that flimsy excuse of a 'weapon' will do nothing against whatever beast they were about to face, but there is also no way he would go down without a fight today.
Fortunately and unfortunately, the walk back felt shorter and they soon enough reached the edge of the forest trail. He slightly turned towards her now and pressed a finger to his lips before nudging his head towards the view beyond. If they're going to be walking straight into danger, they should at least see from the distance what they will be up against.
It was the middle of the afternoon and the sun was just in the right place in the sky to bathe the view that stretched beyond them. Unlike the thick shrubberies they walked through, the clearing beyond was vast, dropping off into a slope where the rest of the thicker part of the forest stretched. It looked like an oasis in a sea of green, mostly bare with trees except for the lone oak tree that stood on its pinnacle. It was majestic and regal with its old age, with branches that spread wide and hung low to ground. Jaemin peered between the leaves of the bushes that covered them now, searching for anything out of place.
The next seconds that passed were choking. Everything was so quiet that it almost made him think that they simply imagined what they heard earlier. He was on the verge of speaking again when another round of ripping screams tore the silence of the surroundings, followed by a sight that made him flinch back in shock. A burst of black void burst straight out of nowhere in front of the oak tree, like a rip from an entirely different dimension. Coming out from the depth of its void are what looked like half a dozen of black, clawed limbs grasping and reaching out as if they were trying to escape. Screeches filled the air again so loudly that they clapped their hands over their ears to block off the hellish sound.
As soon as it stopped, Jaemin snapped and grabbed the girl beside him by the arm again. Without looking back, he hauled her off from her crouch and started dragging her back to the pathway.
"We need to run! Let's go!"
"Jaemin, wait—"
"Noona, this is not a joke—!"
"There's a boy! There's a boy there, we need to help him!"
Everything that happened next came too fast for him. He only stopped for a few seconds in confusion to what she just said, but it was enough for her to struggle out of his grasp and run straight to the clearing. The next moments were a blur of sounds and colors. He realized too late that he was also running, breaking through the edge of the forest as he tried to catch up. The screaming of the monsters grew louder as he ran straight to the middle of chaos, but he temporarily forgot them when he found her again, now kneeling next to a black haired boy propped up against the bark of the oak tree. She looked like she was trying to speak to him, but he seemed unresponsive, despite his eyes staring wide open in fear at the gaping hole and the monstrous limbs trying to reach out to him. It took him a chilling moment to realize what made the other's face look strange. When it did, it was like time snapped back to him again and he could hear the howls of the beasts once more.
The boy's eyes, similar to the dark hole and the creatures inside, were pure black.
"Jaemin! He needs our help!"
Her voice was the one that finally dragged him out of his frozen state. Blinking, he ran towards the two and immediately kneeled on the other side of the stranger.
"His abilities are out of his control! He's the one summoning those monsters!"
"What?! But what should we—"
"You need to calm him down! He needs to let me in so I can do something!"
The look of fear and doubt that registered on his face as soon she said that must have been so obvious because she quickly reached out to him and gave his hand a comforting but urgent squeeze. The truth is that Jaemin has never truly used his abilities on anyone yet, more so for this kind of situation. The prospect of it scared him, probably even more so than those hellish creatures.
"Hey. Jaemin. You can do it. I know you can. Just try."
He gave her one last look before he tried to rein himself in. He was terrified, but it wasn't like he has any other given the urgency of the situation. Gritting his teeth, he turned to the boy now and clutched his shoulder tightly to try and get his attention. From his peripheral vision, he saw her grab the stranger's hand as well, her fingers growing white from the intensity of her hold. Not even a few seconds passed when a faint white light started to glow around their linked palms. Jaemin felt goosebumps rise to his arms as he felt a current run down from the boy right straight at him.
"He's trying to resist. He needs to calm down more," she said, her tone sounding thin and stressed. The strain in her voice made him dig his nails harder against the stranger’s shoulder. It worked slightly as the other boy turned his head to look at him.
"Listen. You need to stop. Do it slowly. Your heartbeat's slowing down at this moment. You can do it," he said, his voice low and clear despite the hellish sounds of the shadow beasts filling the air. It was slight, but the boy in question slightly tilted his head in response, his black irises staring into his own.
"You can do it. Your pulse is getting better, see?"
Just as he said it, he subtly pressed his thumb against the other's neck to feel his pulse. It fluttered against his hold like the wings of a terrified bird, but it also started to slow down a little as soon as the words left him. Quickly, his eyes shot to the girl's hands still clutching the other. The light there has grown a little brighter... Stronger.
"Just a little bit more…" she whispered from the other side. Jaemin looked at her briefly, noting how pale she had become. Beyond them, the hole started becoming smaller, as if it was a cut that was slowly being sewn shut by the seams.
"Let her take over," he said, causing the stranger to blink his eyes at him. A headache was already starting to build at the back of his head, but he still pushed on.
"Do it. Now."
As soon as his last word left his lips, the boy's pulse stuttered, stopped, and started again all in a second. The same moment it happened, the light from the girl's hand grew until it snapped into nothingness again. Jaemin felt the shift in the energy that flowed from her to him. The buzzing feeling sank in his skin too, the force of it making him so dizzy that he had to let go of the stranger to catch his balance. It was uncomfortable—not painful—but numbing to the point that he felt like a part of him had temporarily shut off. The next time he caught his bearings again, the surroundings were back to normal. There were no monstrous cries, not even a trace of the rip in dimension just a few seconds ago.
Two warm hands cupped his face with panic and gave him a slight shake. He didn't even realize that he had his eyes closed until he found himself blinking to make his vision focus. It snapped on her after a bit, and that's when he realized that she was ducked over him, her face pale from worry. He must have collapsed after what happened.
"Jaemin! Jaemin, are you okay? I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to—are you hurt?"
It took him a good few seconds before things finally clicked in his head. Whatever it is that she has done to the other boy has somehow affected him too, probably because of the proximity of their Arcanas working together. Slowly, he gave her a nod as he propped himself up into a sitting position.
"I'm fine. Just a little dizzy… don't worry."
"Your Arcana. Is it—"
"It's back. I can feel it again…" he reassured her gently. Her fingers curled around him more, as if she was afraid of letting him go.
"How did you do that?"
The sound of a new voice made the two of them turn their heads at the same time. Their eyes landed on the boy by the oak tree, his gaze now clear and back to normal. He stared at them with an incomprehensible look on his face but didn't make any outward moves—his non-verbal way of saying that he doesn't mean any harm. Jaemin didn't buy it though, a cold look settling on him as he stood and pushed the girl behind him for cover. The stranger noticed the move, but didn't say anything.
"How did you get here? Who are you?"
The latter didn't answer. He simply stared at him before his eyes slipped towards the girl half-covered by him. Jaemin tightened his jaw and reached out for her hand which she silently took.
"You stopped me," the stranger said, his eyes still set on her. Slowly, he pinned his stare back to him again. "And you helped. You're IL Diavolo, aren't you?"
He didn't answer. Something about the unwelcome stranger told him that he is not an enemy, but that still doesn't undo the fact that he almost released a whole fleet of monsters from who knows where right into this realm. The girl's voice behind him confirmed what he had already been thinking.
"He's one of us…" she said softly as she carefully stepped beside him. The boy followed her movements closely, as if it was his first time seeing someone like her.
"You're hurt… do you need help?"
He didn't react.
"Did someone send you here?"
More silence.
Jaemin watched the one-way exchange silently despite his instincts being on edge. Far away, several warning shots fired from the direction of the Academy, an indication that a party is currently on its way to where they are. With the amount of Arcanas that were released in that tense exchange earlier, the Headmaster has probably picked up the burst of energy even from far away. The girl also noticed, and she threw a quick glance towards the direction of the school before turning once more to the stranger. Not once has the latter looked away from her.
"People are coming… If you want to leave, now's the best time to do it. They might hold you up and ask you some questions if you stay."
Jaemin looked at her, surprised. "Noona, are you letting him walk away? Your father—"
"He's not an enemy. I can feel it," she gently but firmly cut him off. "I'm right… aren't I? You didn't mean to do that earlier. That's why you should leave… If you don't want to stay here."
For a moment, the boy seemed to actually consider her words. A look of wariness briefly passed his face, but it only took another second before his features settled into an expression of finality. Both her and Jaemin noticed the silent decision and exchanged a quick look between each other. Finally, she turned back to the other boy and took a small step closer to where he was still seated. Jaemin let go of her hand, but kept himself ready to jump in if he needed to.
"What's your name?" She asked slowly. Almost a full minute passed without the boy saying or doing anything, except look at her. It was only when the sound of rushing steps had started sounding closer to where they were that he finally decided to break his silence.
"Jeno Lee."
*******
[5 years later, Rosewood Academy Dungeons, one year before the Cypher project]
"Jeno."
Jaemin called out lowly to the boy standing a little ways in front of him as he finished tying the lace around his forearm. Beyond them, just standing outside of their hearing range, was her and Jisung, locked in some quick pep talk with each other. Jeno slightly turned his head towards him at the sound of his name. From the look on his face, he already knows what he was about to say.
"You got it?"
The dark haired boy merely gave him a slight dip of his head in answer. He did, however, throw a quick but pointed look towards their two other teammates for the tourney.
"Back her up if she needs it?"
"Oh, you're going to be the offense now?" Jaemin asked with a teasing lilt in his voice. His best friend gave him a slight smirk that rivaled his.
"Me? You know damn well I'm not the ace here."
"You're right. Let's finish this quickly."
From above, Mijeong watched the scene with equal parts nervousness and excitement. While she is no longer a stranger to tense situations, this is the first time she will witness something on this scale—eight of the most powerful Masters of this generation about to square off against each other. The air in the room itself was different, crackling with energy as the seconds ticked away like a timebomb nearing its end. Beside her, Ten and Kun have gone as silent as ghosts, their eyes also set on the growing tension in the field below.
Five seconds passed. Ten. Twelve. Twenty–and then,
CRACK!
Everything in the room—from the arena below up to the pillars of the underground dungeon—shook as a loud, crackling sound split the previous silence. Mijeong flinched in surprise, her eyes swiveling automatically to the screens in front of her to see what was happening. Her panicked gaze was met by the feedback of the grounds below covered by settling dust. A huge black line now ran in the middle of the field with sizzles of electric blue running down its length. Mijeong's jaw dropped as she realized what caused it.
"Is that—"
"Lightning. It's Mark," Kun said beside her. He turned to Ten now who was back to typing something on his keyboard.
"Did he ever show this before?"
The bespectacled boy gave a quick shake of his head.
"No. But he showed signs of affecting the weather before. I guess he can influence their elements now, too."
Elements…. Matter. The Emperor. Mijeong squinted at the people below again, her eyes raking over their mostly unbothered form. Nobody looked distraught or panicked. If anything, the energy has shifted into an entirely different intensity now that the first blow has been made. It was on edge… On the verge of snapping.
"Dang, someone's pissed off today. And here I thought I was the only one jealous because of the teams, Marky~"
Mark ignored Haechan's teasing and instead nodded towards Chenle who was grinning from ear to ear now. The boy stepped forward, already knowing what the other was going to say.
"Chenle, we'll be the offense. Haechan, shield Renjun."
"Got that," the youngest replied in a sing-song voice as he slipped his hand in his pocket and pulled something there. It was a pen, and he twirled it between his fingers before the small object lengthened and shifted in his touch. Soon enough, he was holding what looks like a spear as tall as him with two blunted sides. Mijeong frowned at the sight from the control room.
Transformative Magic. 
La Luna.
"What is he doing summoning a spear for? We have to get the queen's ribbon, not whack each other," Jisung grumbled from the other side of the arena, his frown settled on the other. The girl beside him laughed, amused by his reaction.
"Do you think you can match him with your solar orbs, Sungie?" She asked. The boy looked a little hesitant at first before giving a small nod.
"I can. I'll try."
"I know you can do it. Without hurting anyone too.”
She gave him a reassuring smile that Jisung returned with his own, albeit a little nervous. Slowly, crackles of energy glowed around his open palm, forming small balls of light. It floated around him like living marbles made of the sun's rays. At that moment Jeno also stepped closer to them his eyes set on the opposing team. 
"I'll take care of Mark. Jisung, you handle Chenle."
"Okay, hyung."
"Be careful. They have Renjun, I'm sure he's already trying to read off our next actions," Jaemin said as a reminder from the back of their pack.
"Try not to think of your next moves too much, that'll throw him off a little," Jeno suggested as he rolled up his sleeves.
"It’s fine. Leave Renjun to me."
Jeno, Jaemin, and Jisung all looked at the girl standing between them at the same time. Her eyes were now also set on the other side of the arena, right at the boy stationed at the very back of the other team. She smiled, a gesture that was well caught by her own teammates. Jeno raised his brows slightly while Jaemin smiled silently from his spot. He crossed his arms over his chest before giving a slight nod.
"Go ahead then. I'll just be here… Acting all queenly and stuff."
From the other side, Renjun frowned slightly to himself as he caught the way the girl looked at him. It completely went unnoticed by Haechan who looked downright bored as he yawned beside him.
"Well? Can you pick up their plan? Noona's there. Pretty sure she's strategized about five different attacks already."
Renjun drew a deep breath before finally flicking his eyes towards Mark and Chenle at the front of their party.
"No. I can't get inside their heads. My powers are not working on them."
Haechan stopped in the middle of another yawn, blinked, before finally looking at him with pure confusion in his face.
"What? They haven't even attacked yet."
The other gave him a deadpan look that caused him to part his lips in sudden realization.
"They've already started. I think you shouldn't relax."
"Oh… shit."
Not a second after those words left his lips, an explosion of sounds swallowed the whole arena again. With no prior warning, the offensive pairs from each team launched their attacks at the same time. Chenle's laugh wove through the noise as he ducked and swung at the solar orbs Jisung sent his way with his spear, the burnt ends of the metal growing back to its shape every time the balls of energy would burn them off. On his other side, Mark and Jeno were engaged in close combat, their movements almost too fast for the naked eye to follow. Instead of simply throwing fists and kicks at each other though, sparks of light exploded from every time they would hit contact with each other. A dull red glow emanated from Mark, while pitch black wisps came from Jeno.
Mijeong watched, equal parts impressed and confused at what was happening. She pointed towards the pair at Ten's screen the same moment the two were pushed back by the sheer force of the impact caused by their collision.
"How are those two doing that?"
Ten answered her question easily, a sign that this wasn't the first time he'd witnessed this show.
"Mark controls matter as The Emperor, the basic building blocks of all elements. Jeno is the master of The Death, which means..."
"He controls everything related to the nether dimension, and all things that are opposite of anything living. Like anti-matter," Kun finished as he straightened up from his leaned position on the table. 
"Those two are like opposite charges… Opposing ends of the magnet that repel each other."
Mijeong slowly processed that information. "If that’s the case... then that means they are almost equal in power…" she whispered silently to herself as she turned her gaze back to the monitor. From the screen, she saw Mark blast a shot of flames towards the other with just a flick of his hand. Jeno counter-attacked it with what looked like a smoke of shadows that mixed with the flames before dissolving it into fumes. 
Finally, she was starting to see what Ten was talking about earlier about both teams having almost equal offensive ability.
Almost, being the operational word, with Jisung's orbs slowly being overwhelmed by Chenle's trained defense, at the very least. The older of the two boys have already moved past the border that Mark had blasted earlier with his lightning, which now, Mijeong realized was a marker created to make it easier for their team to gauge their advance towards the side of their opponent. Jisung didn't miss it and gritted his teeth before sending a more massive round of orbs to the other.
Chenle was too late to catch on to the new deluge of attack, but a burst of black hole ripped open on the space in front of him before the first of the orbs could even hit him. The void looked like a massive pair of jaws that instantly swallowed the rain of fire from Jisung, before it fizzled into nothing as soon as it appeared. Chenle quickly turned to Haechan and gave the other a blinding grin.
"Thanks for the save, hyung!"
The latter winked, looking pleased at himself.
"I got you."
The other team was so caught up in the quick heat of their last minute save that nobody noticed Jaemin when he took a slight step forward as if to closely observe what happened. Casually, he draped his arm over the girl's shoulder, the tips of his fingers lightly grazing her forearm.
"Impressive. I think Team Black is getting so tired with all this jumping around though. Perhaps a quick break would do you good, Chenle? Maybe Mark-hyung, too? The corners of his lips tipped upwards as the words rolled smoothly from his lips. Pointedly, he ducked a little closer to the ear of the girl beside her, his eyes dancing..
"What do you think of the idea, noona?"
It took a while for her to react and consider his words. Finally, she blinked and gave a slight sigh. Mijeong watched as she lifted her hand, her fingers lightly grazing over the boy's hand still resting on her forearm.
"Yes. Maybe just a little while."
Jaemin's smile curved into a full grown smirk. The moment she said it, both Chenle and Mark froze on their spots. It was a strange sight to see, with their faces going from confused, to blank, until they finally relaxed. The shift was so subtle and mundane, but it seemed extremely out of place in the setting that was highly-charged with energies from both sides just moments ago. 
Mijeong watched everything unfold with stunned silence. What she just witnessed was the last thing she could have ever expected, and she slowly straightened herself up as she realized what it is exactly that happened. This might be the first time that she is seeing actual Masters in action, but she knows enough about the history of the Arcana to understand its intricacies as well as its limitations. IL Diavolo’s ability is considered one of the most diabolical in the ranks because it compulses and controls others, but its influence weakens when it comes to influencing fellow Masters. It’s almost impossible even... Especially for a younger wielder like Jaemin whose abilities are presumably still maturing. 
"…He wasn’t supposed to be able to do that," she said slowly, her eyes moving over to Kun. The way her voice came off sounded like she was convincing herself more than anyone else. The look the man gave her made goosebumps rise on her skin before he even spoke. 
"He didn’t. IL Matto did."
*******
"Papa?"
"Yes, darling?"
"Do you think I'm useless?"
The Headmaster looked up from the pile of papers he was reading to peer at his daughter. She was currently sitting on one of the loveseats in his office, her small hands flipping over the pages of the book that she had on her lap. The child had been so silent in the past hour that her question, specifically the nature of it, entirely took him by surprise. Slowly, he put down the documents he had been reading to give her his full attention.
"May I know where that came from, honey?"
The way her eyes flickered guiltily towards him before slipping back towards the page she is obviously not reading told him that she had been simmering on the thought for quite some time now. When it looked like she didn't have any plans of answering, he picked himself up from his table and went over to her side. He nudged her playfully to urge her to make room for him on the seat, a gesture she responded to by pouting slightly before letting him squeeze in. He draped his arm around her small form after and gave her shoulder a gentle, reassuring squeeze.
"Come on, talk to Papa. Did something happen?"
The child chewed on her lower lip for a moment before finally giving in. Without looking at him, she carefully closed the book on her lap and started unconsciously picking on the edge of its leather cover, a tick she does whenever she is unsure of something.
"Mark and I… We were playing yesterday. He showed me that he can make fire with his hands. It was small, but he made it from nothing…"
He listened silently despite already knowing where the conversation was going. His daughter continued, her eyes still downcast on her lap.
"Why… Can't I do something like that?"
The way her voice softened at the end of her question made his chest slightly constrict. He watched as she shifted her face away from his, her eyes landing on the small flickering candle in the middle of the coffee table in front of them. He let her sit for a bit on her thoughts while he also tried to think of the best approach to talk about this.
"Do you remember one of the chapters in The Snow Queen story that you love so much, Princess?"
The girl a confused look at his sudden question. He, on the other hand, merely gave her a smile before continuing.
"There's this part of that story that I really love. It's when Gerda met the Lapland woman who was supposed to give her something to help her defeat the Snow Queen. Do you remember what that something is?"
She only thought of it briefly, having almost memorized every word from the fairytale by now.
"The power of ten men… She wanted to be strong to defeat the Snow Queen."
"Mm… and do you remember what the woman said after she asked for it?"
"She didn't give it to her. She said…"
"The power of ten men would be of very little use. There is nothing anyone can do for this girl that she cannot do for herself," he gently cut her off by dictating the exact words from the story she—and her mother—loves so much. He watched as her small face morphed from confusion, into a look of slow realization. Still smiling, he tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear before he continued.
"The Lapland woman didn't grant Gerda any special powers, because they weren't something she needed for her mission to save her friend. What she already has is so much more powerful, because she was able to go that far with what she has, despite being human. Gerda saved Kai even if she was just herself."
The look on his daughter’s face told him that she already got the gist of what he was trying to say. Still, he wasn’t surprised at all when she decided to push on.  
"But I am not just a human. You told me yourself," she reasoned, and for the first time he saw the traces of doubt that she often works so hard to hide from him. "You always tell me that I should be careful. People treat me like they hate me or they're scared of me but I—" she stopped, her eyes looking brighter in the flicker of the candlelight. "I don't see why. I can't make fires. I can't move objects with my mind. I'm useless on my own."
A flicker of guilt teased the edges of his own features as he listened to her words. In the few years that she had manifested her ability, he had never heard her talk like this, and it's only now that he realized she never did because he never gave her a chance to. The moment he knew that the powers he hated so much—the very same who took his wife—chose his daughter to claim next, he set on doing anything and everything to hide her away. What he didn't realize, however, was how much his actions alienated the very same person he was trying to protect.
"How big was the fire that Mark made?" He asked again now, his face set. He turned to the direction of the coffee table and gestured at the flame there. "Was it like this candle here?"
Her daughter frowned before giving a slight nod.
At the confirmation, he leaned forward in his seat and reached out for a scrap of paper lying next to his bundle of notes. Without saying anything, he held it up to the fire and let the small flame lick it until they grew bigger and brighter.
"What happens when you create a bigger fire, Darling?" He asked quietly, his eyes set on the burning paper. He kept on holding it, unperturbed by the fact that the page was slowly being turned to ashes.
"It… becomes scarier," she answered, still looking doubtful about what he was trying to do. When he didn't react, she glanced at him, worry and panic obvious on her face.
"Papa. Let it go. You'll burn your hand."
That was enough for him to drop the paper to the same bronze plate where the candle's wax melted and curdled. The two of them watched as the remainder of the page got consumed by the flames before growing even more bigger as it started eating into the wax droppings on the plate.
"That's how it is with you, Princess. The small flame is Mark, but you can turn him into a big fire that can eat up and burn everything in its path. Arcana holders like us have our limits but you… what you do is beyond the usual boundaries that no generation of Masters have ever seen. You can turn a flame into an explosion, or make it destroy itself as if it never existed at all. You will meet many other flames in your life, some of which will want to have and use you, or destroy you."
The look on her face almost broke his heart. He pushed on though, knowing full well that there is a possibility that he might not have the courage to talk to her about this again. This is a necessary evil—something she must open her eyes early on so she could also protect herself.
"Why would they hurt me?"
"Because everyone wants more. More power, more influence, more fire. It's human nature, something even you and I have deep down in our instinct. But people are also terrified of what they can't understand and control. And darling… you will be exactly like that when you grow older."
He reached out for her small, cold hand now and engulfed it with his own.
"You and I are the only members of the immediate circle who can outwardly affect and influence other masters. Without them, we are useless—just people who can easily blend in with regular humans if we want to because we have no physical manifestations of what we can do on our own. With us though—with you most specially—they can be so much stronger." His hold on her hand tightened as he felt the slight tremor that ran through her.
"You can make Arcana powers more powerful if you will them to.  You are an asset, but also a threat. This is why you should never fully trust anyone, and why you should always be one step ahead of everyone. No one can use or betray you then."
She kept quiet, taking in every word he said. He is sure she had this train of thought before being the smart and observant girl that she is, but right now, he gave her the hard, uncoated truths she needed to hear. He hates doing this, but if it means he can save her from facing the same fate as her mother, then he is willing to sacrifice even some parts of her own happiness just to keep her safe.
"Do you understand it now, honey? Why I'm working so hard to protect you from everything? Can you promise me you'll try your hardest to keep yourself safe?"
Something flickered in her eyes that made a hollow spot in his chest tighten. It brought back flashes of memory of another girl who, at one point, also found herself lost because of a power she never even wanted in the first place. His daughter's voice finally saved him from the memory before it consumed him again.
"Yes, Papa… I promise."
*******
"Ability Amplification. That's the power of IL Matto," Kun said calmly, his eyes set on the figure of the girl on the screen. Mijeong looked at him as if he was saying the impossible. He’s no longer surprised by the reaction, knowing how ridiculous and far-reaching it might sound, even for members of the Family who are acquainted with the Arcanas. In the long history of recorded manifestations of IL Matto, this is the first time a master who can affect the strength of other abilities has been born.
"And they know?" Mijeong asked, her own voice still unstable. Before she even got her answer, she moved to step away from her hovering position over Ten’s shoulder and stalked to the open balcony overlooking the field. Her eyes zoned in on the same girl she had been trying to protect in secret before studying the other boys in the field. Kun and Ten exchanged glances before the former followed her there.
"The Headmaster has only let a certain number of families know about her. But yes, the boys know."
"Is that safe?"
Kun paused. His eyes strayed towards the open field, briefly studying each face there.
"It probably isn't," he finally said, deciding to be honest about it. 
"But it's strategic."
*****
"What the fuck, Jaemin? That's such a dirty move," Haechan scowled from the other side of the field to the amusement of the silver-haired boy on the other team. The latter openly smirked at him, pleased at his reaction.
"Hey. Only rules of the game is that a Queen cannot attack another Queen. The rest of the knights are fair play."
"You know damn well your Arcana's black listed for things like this," Haechan shot back, his jaw tight. Jaemin merely shrugged and pulled you closer to him, a blatant move that only made the other boy fume more.
"Oh? So you're admitting I'm stronger then?"
You sighed and shot him a quick look. He easily caught it, his eyes sparkling in amusement.
"Stop it already. You've done what you needed."
The boy gave a slight shrug but didn't say anything else to deny what you were implicating. He did finally let you go though, wearing a pleased look that he didn’t even try to hide. Jaemin is the type of person who mostly doesn't care about things like this, but when he starts to get serious, he is also not afraid to play a little dirty. After all, it's in his nature to know how to get under anyone's skin using their emotions.
"Sorry, love. I had to. Somebody has to piss someone off or else we'll be in this field for hours. I think it's kinda working."
"Kinda is a very humble way of putting it," Renjun finally spoke from the other side. His voice was steady, but anyone who knows him enough could see that he was also not amused by what his friend just pulled. He raised his hand now and snapped his fingers twice. As soon as he did, both Mark and Chenle flinched, as if somebody woke them up from their stupor. Unlike Jaemin's Arcana that controls, his protects, shielding all of his teammates from other mental attacks. The two boys who were just released from the devil's spell both looked around, gathering their bearings.
"What the hell…" Chenle frowned and pressed a hand at the back of his head. Mark seemed to have caught on faster about what happened as his eyes moved from Haechan, to you, and finally to Jaemin's Cheshire grin.
"Did you just…"
Renjun sighed and rolled his eyes slightly.
"Yes. He did. Before you get pissed, hyung, please know that this guy here is already doing a pretty bad job in controlling his temper," he said as he jabbed his thumb towards the boy on his side. "Yah, Haechan. Calm down. Irritating you is exactly what Jaemin wants."
"And that’s exactly what he is getting," the other answered without even batting an eye. "He's right. Let's quit playing."
"Time to get to business."
At his words, two black holes resembling jaws of void opened up on the still air beside him. They snapped and howled like two wormholes ready to swallow anything their way.
From the other side of the arena, Jaemin watched with a pleased look as the opposing team started to lose their cool. Jeno moved back closer to where you all are huddled, his eyes silently reading the energy of the other boys. He slightly pressed a hand on your lower back to catch your attention.
"Now?" He asked in a voice only you could hear. You gave him the slightest nod ever as your eyes shifted to Jaemin. The latter is already looking, and he leaned his head a little to the side in confirmation to your silent message.
"I got you both," he said. "Go off."
At his assurance, you moved to reach out to Jisung next. The boy looked down on you, a questioning look on his face.
"Jisung, can you shield us?"
He frowned, clearly confused by the request.
"What?"
"Shields. Can you do projected energy fields?"
His confused look slowly morphed into that of panic.
"I—I haven't tried. I don't think I can do it yet."
"Well, you have to. You have ten seconds to do it before Haechan tries to swallow all of us with his void monsters."
The boy’s face paled at your words. "No, you don't understand, noona. I literally don't know how to do it—"
"Seven, six, five…" you said in reply, softly counting under your breath. Jisung whipped around, looking absolutely terrified. From the other side of the arena, Haechan's black holes reared back their heads like cobras preparing to attack.
"Oh my god."
"Come on, Jisung. You can do it. Just think of summoning it."
"I c-can't—"
You squeezed his hand in yours and gave him a smile.
"Go ahead. I'll help."
He barely had any time to process what you just said when Haechan's shadow tunnels finally snapped and hurtled straight towards where you are. Jisung threw out his arm in instinct before impact and sure enough a bright burst of light flashed in the arena, temporarily blinding everyone. When the air cleared out again, a bright golden dome stood high above your heads, covering the good half of your end of the field. Grasping and snapping its jaws outside of it, trying to break through, were Haechan's voids.
Jisung's jaw dropped as he stared, dumbstruck at what he just conjured. Outside, Chenle straightened up as well, his eyes round with surprise.
"Holy shit dude… You just unlocked a new game skill."
Your smile widened as you patted the boy in the back. "Good job. Now try to hold that a bit more." Turning around, you looked at Jeno who was still calmly observing everything from his position. You watched as the ground beneath him seemed to ripple and shake before long shadowy figures started to rise from it. They moved like smoke, bearing the resemblance of slender women about 6 feet in height each. None of them have any solid features nor a body, but their eyes glowed bright like beams of light. You smiled. The figures sauntered forward, their bodies dispersing slightly as they passed beyond Jisung's shield. They snapped back to their form again as soon as they did and started slowly advancing towards the other team.
Mark and Chenle, who still brought the front, exchanged tense looks. Behind them, Renjun watched the shadow maidens fan in formation like predators eyeing their prey. They moved languidly but tensely, like strings about to snap anytime.
"Haechan…" he murmured under his breath. The boy beside him didn't need to look at him to understand what he was trying to say. Nobody moved, waiting for the tension to finally break. When the pin finally dropped after the suffocating silence, it drowned the field with deafening sounds that exploded at the same time.
Mark lifted chunks of earth from the ground, hurtling some straight at the shadow monsters that had sprung into action to attack. Assisting him was Chenle who turned some of the rubble into orbs of steel, some of which went straight into Jisung's shield. The dome grumbled under the force, making the boy grit his teeth from the attack. Lifting his free hand, Jisung pushed back against it, a move that caused spears of light to shoot out of his barrier. Haechan moved back his own monsters, the two voids merging together to form one big black hole that swallowed the younger boy’s attack. He flicked his wrist afterwards, causing the beast to swoop down and grab two of Jeno's shadow maidens closing in on Mark.
Mijeong watched, petrified, at everything that unfolded in a matter of seconds. What she had witnessed earlier was nothing compared to the scale that she is seeing now, the whole arena being torn apart from the ground up. Explosions were erupting everywhere and it was getting harder and harder for her to follow everything that was happening. When the field finally cleared again after a particularly strong blast, her gaze made a beeline towards the sole girl in the arena to make sure that she is still unharmed. She froze. There was something about her face that seemed out of place at first, and it took her a moment to realize that her eyes had turned lighter—the color of amber—as she watched everything that was happening.
"Is she alright? Ten?" Kun spoke before she could ask her question. The other boy took a while to answer, his lips pursed.
"Her heartbeat is rising, but everything else is okay."
"How about Jeno?"
"His control is more stable than his last record. He's good."
"What is going on? Are they in danger?" She finally spoke up, her voice barely masking her panic now. Kun, however, simply turned back at the carnage below.
"No. Everything's fine."
"Fine? Your kids are killing each other!"
The man smiled, an expression that seemed entirely out of place in the situation. "They're being a little more energetic right now, but everything's still under control."
Mijeong wasn't convinced but she pursed her lips anyway.
"I'm more worried about her. She's influencing that boy's powers, right? The one who created the shield?"
"Mm. That and the two others with her. Why do you think she asked Jisung to create that wall? I can assume it's her way of containing the reach of her ability to her teammates to tip the scales to their favor. Otherwise, Haechan and the others would be affected too."
His answer did nothing to assure her. "Isn't she pushing herself too much this way though? What if she—"
"Goes overboard? I doubt she will ever let that happen. Besides, Jaemin and Jeno are both there," Kun explained, nodding towards the two boys. At the look of confusion in Mijeong's face, he continued.
"Masters can lose control over their abilities when they falter in their focus and let the Arcana take over them. Jaemin will step in for her—and for anyone else in this arena—the moment he senses that. As long as they let him, he can bring them back to focus. Jeno, La Morte's abilities, come from the Nether. The rest of Arcana's originate from the Aether. If he wants to, he can also cancel or stabilize other powers since his source is the direct opposite of the others. She'll never go mad, as long as he's with her."
"And Jeno will never lose control, as long as Jaemin and her are there,” Ten added, his eyes twinkling as he looked at her. “Why do you think we put them in one group? Those three…"
"They're a package deal."
Mijeong processed all of that slowly. She turned back to watch the battle as she put together the pieces in her head.  So this tourney is not only done to check each of the Master's abilities. They also do it to see how abilities mesh well with each other. It’s a training and a study in one.
A blast of force shook the field once again making her and Kun slightly duck for cover. Unlike the damage caused by flying rocks and exploding metals though, this one is silent and invisible, like a wave of wind running through the bare arena. Rocks split and shattered as it swept through, including the shadow figures who were now just a few meters from breaching Mark and the others' side of the arena. When it hit Jisung’s force field, the surface shook under its force.  
You looked up, surprised and confused by the attack. You know Mark, Chenle, and Haechan were too focused on defending their spot, which only means…
"Renjun," Jeno said from beside you as more of his shadow maidens rose from the ground to replace the ones the force obliterated. Your eyes rounded in response.
"Psychokinesis… Since when did he learn to use it?"
Jaemin was the one who answered. "Nobody knows. He barely shows it, but when he does, it means…"
"You're very pissed," Haechan smirked and stated the obvious as he closely watched the boy beside him. Renjun had pretty much remained calm and quiet in the middle of all the chaos, but the set of his lips easily gave him away, now that Haechan gave him a real good look. The boy in question scoffed in reply to his teasing. 
"I'm not. I want this over.”
"Sure, dude. At least you seem like you impressed her,” he snickered, amused by the denial of the other. “Look, how about we all give it one last shot so we can finally get this done?”
For once, the pair agreed on something.
"Sounds like a good idea."
"I think we should end this," Jeno said as he noticed the shift in energy from the other team. You caught it too, and you gave him a slight nod in answer. Walking over to Jisung, you whispered to him in a voice you made sure only he could hear.
"Jisung, I need you to release your shield at my signal."
The boy gave you a look as if you've finally gone mad.
"What? But they're attacking us, noona."
"Just do it quickly then bring it back up again. I just need to do something."
He still looked unconvinced but both Jeno and Jaemin gave him a look that finally made him give way. In front of you, the shadow figures moved to guard the front of your team, just beyond Jisung's border. You watched with bated breath as the opposing group quickly responded to the move, every boy's attention set on getting the last line of your defense. When Haechan's void reared back again to do its final attack, you started counting the seconds in your head.
Five.
Four.
Three.
Two.
One.
“Jisung, now!”
You gave the signal the exact same moment that the black hole burst straight towards all of you. Its jaws split wide, it hurtled forcefully in the air with the full intent of swallowing the shadow army acting as your last line of offense. Jisung almost missed your signal in panic, but he thankfully managed to dissolve his force field at the last moment, enough for you to slip in the same periphery where Haechan’s targets are. You fell in the right spot just in time for the void to swallow you whole before everything disappeared, leaving nothing in its wake.
*******
"Haechan!" Mark turned and shouted in panic as he saw everything unfold in front of him. He wasn't the only one who shared the reaction though, with both Chenle and Jisung giving gasps of horror while Renjun froze in shock. Haechan paled as he realized what just happened, his eyes wide.
"Shit. Shit, shit!"
Above, Mijeong gave a wordless scream as she watched the full extent of the scene from above. Before she even realized what she was doing, she turned, ready to storm the field. She had barely made two steps when she felt Kun grab her wrists and pull her back.
"No. Don't go there."
"What the hell?! Let me go! Can’t you see—!"
"Stop. Just watch."
*****
You tumbled and stumbled inside the void, hands trying to find purchase on something, anything so you could slow down your spiral. Everywhere was dark, but you could hear sounds merging over each other as if you were speeding through different worlds and realities. You couldn’t figure out which direction you are going, or whether you are floating or falling. There was no sense of time or velocity where you were but you could also feel Haechan all around you—his fear, his shock, and his panic.
You didn't know how long you got suspended there, but when you heard Mark scream out your name from what sounded like a distance, you closed your eyes briefly and grasped at the weightless void surrounding you. The noises around you intensified, but you focused everything that you have in a single command. Whether you said it out loud or screamed it in your head, you weren't sure, but you poured every bit of your concentration on the thought, even as you struggled in the chasm surrounding you. 
Dissolve.
Now.
As soon as you expressed your intent, the churning darkness around you froze into a standstill. When you finally opened your eyes again, rips of light started puncturing the void, widening and pulling until…
You stumbled back to the field, the maw of Haechan's black hole releasing you back to the right dimension. Instead of finding yourself in the right side of the arena where the rest of your team are, however, you are now standing directly in front of Haechan who was currently looking at you, frozen in shock.
You smiled. Without saying anything, you flicked your wrist slightly, the move making his still gaping void to splinter into glass like pieces behind you. His expression changed into that of understanding as he watched it dissolve right in front of his eyes.
"You boys were so focused on attacking so you got distracted. Number one rule in the game, never forget your goal. In this case…" your gaze moved towards Renjun who was still standing beside the other boy. He looked at you, still surprised and confused, as you reached out towards him. It was too late for him to stop you from gently pulling at the ribbon on his arm.
"Your Queen's lace."
The bell sounded off again, this time, announcing that a team had won. Your smile widened.
"Checkmate."
*******
"What…"
Mijeong stared, thunderstruck, at the scene below her. Everything moved so fast, but she doubts her eyes were tricking her about what she saw. Kun quietly voiced out the thoughts that were already crowding her head.
"Ability Nullification. She dissolved Haechan's powers. Made his Arcana completely null," the man said, his eyes calmly set on the girl below. "The Fool always has two sides, a strength and a weakness. The true force of IL Matto's Arcana does not lie on how it can amplify powers…"
"But how it can void them."
The silence in the balcony was matched by that in the field. The only sound that disturbed the room where Mijeong, Kun, and Ten were on was the slight ding of a message that popped out on the edge of the latter’s screen. Ten quickly clicked on it and promptly read the short message there. His gaze shot to Kun then before he leaned over to the mic, his face set.
"Tourney's over. Winner of this round is the White Team. Please go back to your dorms and rest. Everyone here needs to report to the head office this afternoon..."
"The Headmaster is back."
CHAPTER 5
*******
Note: I had to redo my taglist because of Tumblr problems. The new list below are those who requested to be re-added or recently requested to be part of the new list. 
NEW Taglist: @effulgentfireflies, @kasperneo, @lostlovesoul11,  @byunniebaekhyunnie​, @smolpeyy, , @dearj43, @bettyschwallocksyee​, @babyksworld​
Untaggable for some reason:  @yongboksfreckles,  @user103843
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ssahotstuff · 2 years
Text
Aaron Hotchner Playlist Collection 💕
How Do I Live? By Trisha Yearwood Found here
Word count: 14.8k
Warnings: the beginning is dark but happy ending! Mentions of the BAU working a case where there is torture, beating, bruising, dehydration, food, reader is being held captive. Mention of hospitals and medication, anxiety, PTSD and a slight panic attack, mentions of self conscious reader//tread lightly here folks! Smut—but not for a while, slow burn. Oral(f&m receiving) fingering, penetration, unprotected sex—if I missed anything, let me know
Side note: I use this emoji ✨✨✨ when I switch point of view!
Another side note: dreams and flashbacks are italicized
The darkness spread out around you like a blanket, nothing was visible at all, no matter how hard you tried to get your eyes to adjust to the lack of light. Time had slowed or stopped completely, you weren't sure which. You thought surely you were dead, in purgatory awaiting your afterlife, but your heart was still beating, in fact, it hadn't stopped drumming in your chest since you were thrown into whatever kept you captive—you weren't sure.
The hunger had turned into pain long ago, and no matter how hard you tried to break free of your bindings, you couldn't. You hadn't meant to get separated from Hotch, it just kind of happened. One second you were right behind him and the next you'd been knocked out cold. When you came to, you found yourself trapped in what felt like a room—there was a wooden floor from what you could feel. Maybe a barn.
Your mouth was bound and gagged, dry and parched as you struggled and cried for help. You saw a small window just above you, maybe a foot wide, and it was so dark outside that there were no stars, no moon. You were in Ray Donald's secondary location, no doubt, and you knew that thanks to the profile. It did you no good now, but your team had it, and they'd use it to their advantage until you were found.
You dozed off and when you woke again, the light was shining through your small window of hope. Things had been quiet wherever you were, you assumed Ray had left you to die until a hatch opened from above, and he came down, all 6 feet of his burly self, raggedy beard and beady eyes.
"It's time for your punishment."
You barely had time to register the pain as he kicked you at full force, knocking all of the wind from you. Another blow landed to your legs, and then his fist connected with your jaw, making your eyes water until your vision went blurry. When he was finished with you, he simply climbed out of the hatch and left you alone to writhe in pain on the floor.
You prayed they found you soon, and feared what would happen if they didn't.
The day quickly turned into frigid night, but it was eerily silent. You were grateful— you'd heard his truck start up and leave hours ago, so you hoped he was gone. You knew your body well enough to know nothing was broken—you were just in some of the most intense pain you'd ever felt, in and out of consciousness.
He came back and delivered another series of kicks and punches before sundown, your body battered and bruised—you were strong though. He'd have a hard time breaking you, if that was what he was trying to do.
I can take it. If it'll get me back to my team, I can take it.
All you could think about was things you should've said before, things you'd regret not saying if you never saw your team again. You wanted Penelope and Spencer to know they were your best friends, no matter what. Morgan was the best big brother, despite there being no relation, he treated you as you were with no questions asked. Rossi was like the father you never had, always taking his time to give you pep talks when you were feeling down. JJ was your confidant, the person you could always go to no matter what.
And then there was Hotch.
You had liked him since you very first day, and he knew it. He kept his distance at first, but once he let you in, the two of you were like best pals. He always made sure if you needed something, it was yours, and you always helped lighten his load as much as possible at work, with reports and working as hard as you could to prove yourself, still being new. Hotch always said you belonged on the team, that there was nothing for you to prove, but you pushed yourself anyway, wanting to make sure they knew you could be trusted.
Hotch trusted you anyway—he'd often pair you up with him for everything, and you quickly came to the realization that you were his partner and he had enough faith in you to have his back everywhere, and that was special to you. It was the man you cared about most putting his life in your hands, and you'd always protect him, which is partly why you were trapped. You'd been so busy making sure Aaron was okay ahead of you that you didn't register the commotion behind you.
Your eyes darted to the window, and you thought you were in for another beating when you saw lights, frantically darting in every direction. You stayed stark still, hoping it would make you invisible to his turmoil. It wasn't until you recognized the voice that invaded your thoughts so many nights before that you realized they'd found you, and they were here to help.
"Y/n? Everyone spread out, search top to bottom," you made as much noise as you could, flailing around until your feet found something—what felt like a table leg, and you began to kick furiously, knocking it against the cellar wall.
"Everyone quiet!" Hotch boomed, and from the sound of his voice, he was right above you. You didn't stop kicking, and things began to clatter to the floor one by one. As if it were a miracle, the hatch in the floor opened up and you saw a bright light shining down into the hole in the ground.
"Y/n? God, please, let her be okay," you kept kicking until he'd made it down the ladder and saw you lying on the ground. He worked to free your mouth of the gag and the rope around your wrists, and as soon as you were free, you were wrapping your arms around his neck. He hugged you back but you winced at the contact, forgetting your body was in a delicate state.
"Tell me where he hurt you," Hotch was examining your arms and what he could see of the rest of you. You could feel the dried blood on your face and you wondered what the rest of you must look like if you felt so badly.
"I'm okay. Just a little banged up," you told him, to which he shook his head, adjusting his light so he could see more of you.
"You don't have to be okay right now. Just tell me where it hurts," you could barely make out the mist in his eye as he pleaded with you for the truth, and with a gut wrenching sob you were telling him that the pain was everywhere—it wouldn't go away. You were beginning to feel trapped in what was your prison, trying to stand up. Hotch helped you to your feet but you looked at the ladder with intimidation because you weren't sure how you'd climb it in your current state.
"I'll go up first, you can hold onto my arms and I'll help pull you up," he climbed up the ladder and left you to panic in the dark. It took a minute for him to make it all the way up, but he'd disappeared from you while you waited at the bottom.
"Hotch? Please don't leave me down here in the dark," you began to climb with all the strength you could muster until you saw his hands reaching for you in the dark.
"I've got you," he whispered as you made it through the hatch, his arms wrapping around you and lifting the rest of the way. You sat up long enough to collapse onto your back, and you could finally see the stars twinkling around, dotted against the darkest sky you'd ever seen.
"Stay awake, mama. The ambulance is almost here," Derek told you; you could hear the whirring sirens in the distance but all you could focus on was Hotch, his soothing voice telling you that everything would be okay, that you were safe, even if you felt like you weren't.
"I'm so tired," you heard yourself tell him; watching with blurry vision as he shook his head.
"Come on, let me see those pretty eyes of yours. Stay awake just a little bit longer," Hotch urged, giving you the motivation you needed to hold out your hand for him so he could help you upright.
"I'm dizzy," the ground and everyone on it was spinning, making you nauseous as you closed your eyes and waited for it to pass. Hotch's hand was on your back, reassuring you that everything was going to be okay now that you'd been found.
"I was afraid—God, I was terrified I might not see you again," you could hear his voice laced thick with emotion, the fear that he might've found you in different circumstances. Your head was dangling between your legs as you peered your at him through tear coated lashes, trying to make him feel a little better.
"You won't get rid of me that easily," you choked, a sob caught in your throat. You were relieved, starving. But mostly you were glad to see Hotch looking back at you, even if he was sadder than you'd ever seen him before.
"I'm so sorry I didn't hear him. I was so sure you were right behind me," he started, but you shook your head and reached for his free hand. He let you take it, his hand swallowed yours up for the first time and you could see how rapidly his chest began to move.
"Don't. This isn't your fault, Hotch. It could've happened to either of us. I'm fine," the words felt like bile in your throat as you lied to him, but he knew better. You were far from being okay—your skin was crawling, your stomach was rumbling but so queasy that you felt like you may never eat again. Ray had told you things about yourself that he shouldn't have known—cut you down in ways you'd never utter to anyone. You knew you'd have to explain in detail what happened to you more than once, but there were parts you'd already vowed to omit to save yourself the heartache.
Hotch had the profile. He knew Ray got into people's heads; he used your insecurities against you, and he knew them all somehow, in just a matter of hours.
"We caught him shortly after he left this morning. He gave us the secondary location—he dared us to try to find you. He didn't think we would. I know—I know what he did," you used all the force you had to stand up so you could stumble away from him for a second, your hands on your knees as you tried to catch your breath. Ray had already told him, and now you'd have to find a way to look Hotch and the rest of your team in the eye everyday because of it.
"Hey, shhh. It's okay, you're okay," he pulled you upright into a hug and after a minute he led you to an ambulance. He disappeared for a second but he promised he'd be right back, so you let the EMT look you over, her eyes full of sorrow as she did so.
"You're body is over half bruised—there could be internal bleeding. You need a hospital, and fluids. You're dehydrated," she explained softly, her hand covering yours for just a second in a comforting gesture as she helped you to lean back.
"Don't you worry, honey. You're going to be just fine. You're one tough little lady, that's for sure," she hooked you up to monitor you and gave you something for the pain, something that had your eyes drooping in seconds, and then the panic set in because they were closing the doors and Hotch was nowhere to be seen.
"No, we can't leave yet. Hotch!" You felt like you were screaming but the words barely came out; the EMT leaned closer so she could hear you, but you heard the door shut instead, and you succumbed to slumber soon after.
✨✨✨
I followed the ambulance as closely as possible until it took a special entrance I didn't have clearance for. I found my way to the parking garage instead, the rest of my team headed home for the night since we'd gotten a break in the case and had apprehended the unsub. I planned to stay as long as the hospital would allow me to, and if they made me leave, I'd just come back in the morning.
Seeing her body laid out on a stretcher was something I never could've prepared myself for. I gave them a few minutes to get her through triage and into a room, but a doctor was quick to come and find me, asking for me by name.
"Are you Aaron Hotchner?" I stood and nodded, and he instructed me to follow him down the hall.
"She's been asking for you since she was in the ambulance. She's had enough morphine to knock out a horse—I don't know how she's still awake, but I'd say it has something to do with what she's been through."
We stopped just outside of her door and I could see her through the curtains, propped up in her bed with a cup of water in front of her. Her hands shook as she lifted it to drink, in fact her whole body was buzzing with energy and I could feel it through the glass. Her nerves were completely shot, and she was on edge, and probably confused.
"How long can I stay? I know visiting hours are probably over," he shook his head and handed me her chart to look over while he talked.
"You can stay through the night, but only you. She'll be able to leave in the morning. There were no signs of sexual assault, but that's not to say she still isn't in rough shape mentally. I know she's FBI, but she's been through hell in the last 48 hours. She needs some time."
I'd be personally taking her out of the field for as long as I could, no questions asked. I knew she was tough, but she needed time to heal properly.
"Has she eaten?"
He shook his head, sighing heavily.
"She may not be hungry yet. She'll eat. She'll make a full recovery physically. It's her emotional state I'm worried about."
After he warned me to keep her calm and not to try to get her to talk until she was ready, he let me step into the room.
"Where'd you go?"
I took long strides until I was seated at her feet on the bed, my hands in my lap.
"I got separated from the ambulance but I followed you here. I'm sorry, I had to tell the team— I was right behind you the whole way."
She nodded, shivering lightly. I went to the cabinet and found another blanket for her, wrapping it around her shoulders as I moved a bit closer.
"I just got worried is all," she said softly, her hand on my knee as she looked up at me. I'd never seen her so vulnerable, so defeated. I knew she was trying to be brave for my sake, but I wanted her to tell me the truth about how she was feeling, and she never would.
"I'm here now, and I'm staying tonight. Your doctor said I can take you home in the morning."
She yawned, her eyes rimmed red with exhaustion, bloodshot from the medicine. I had no clue how she was still awake and functioning.
"Promise you'll stay?" She scooted over and patted the empty space in her bed for me to fit into, lifting her head so I could put my arm around her. She cozied into my shoulder, a shaky sigh escaping her mouth before she reached for my free hand and took it, lacing her fingers through mine.
"I promise I'm not going anywhere. Get some sleep, Y/n. I won't let anything happen to you."
I knew she was probably still scared, even with Ray behind bars. She'd be paranoid, lost in her head at some point for the rest of her life—being watched and studied so it could be used against you was something that was hard to recover from. I knew from personal experience.
"Thank you, Hotch. I'm glad you're here."
She was asleep on my arm in no time, finally giving in and letting sleep take over. She'd fought it for so long that once she finally got comfortable, she slept like a rock, barely moving all night. I tried to doze off but I couldn't—not with her so close after days of her absence. I could only look at her face, her tiny hand in mine and wonder how anyone could hurt something so precious—so perfect. I felt myself leaning forward to place a kiss on her forehead before I could stop myself, and I swore a smile graced her lips for a second, even while she slept.
The weight of her disappearance had been heavy on my team, but especially me. She was my partner, but she was also so much more than that, and I'd never gotten around to telling her. I'd never met anyone as headstrong and determined to make a difference as her. She was ambitious and almost unnaturally gorgeous—I knew she didn't think so, but to me, there was no one quite like her. She'd joined us at 25 and a year and a half later, I'd grown so attached to her that I couldn't see straight if she wasn't around.
She didn't stir until morning when they brought her breakfast. She hadn't moved all night until the nurse came into the room, and her eyes were wide open and she was sitting up on high alert.
"Just me! How're you feeling today? Good enough to eat something I hope," she nodded politely and stayed quiet, her grip on my hand tightening at the sight of a stranger. I could feel her shaking against me, so I sat up and made sure I didn't let go of her hand.
"You're okay," I assured her, and she offered me a small smile in return as she picked at her food. The nurse checked her blood pressure, which was still a bit on the high side, so she gave her some medicine to calm her down some, just in case.
"We'll send you home with some of these in case you start feeling anxious or you can feel your BP rising. Usually it's accompanied by feeling flushed, lightheaded, rapid heartbeat. You know your body best, so you may not even need them once you get home," she explained. She managed to eat half a piece of toast and drink her coffee, but she still seemed terrified—I knew she would for a while.
As soon as the nurse left, she was in tears, unable to speak she was crying so hard. I tried my best to calm her down so the nurse didn't come back in. I wrapped my arms around her and allowed her to let it all out, as long as she needed. I rubbed her back, kept her close as long as she'd let me. I wasn't sure what was going on, but I wanted her to know I was there for her regardless.
"Just a little bit longer and we'll get you out of here," I whispered against her hair, hoping maybe her spirits would lift some when we were no longer in the hospital. She sniffled and nodded, gripping my shirt fiercely as she tried to calm down.
"I'm just—I don't know these people, Hotch. What if they want to hurt me too? What if it never ends?"
I felt helpless as she cried on my chest; I stayed quiet and brushed her hair back, kissing her forehead once more before I could will my body not to; she froze for a second before burying herself deeper into me, her face pressed against my chest. She had to be careful of her IV or else she would've been in my lap, she was halfway there already.
"I—I was thinking maybe you could come to my house for a little while, so you aren't all by yourself." She pulled back long enough to look up at me. She let me brush away a stray tear before she nodded, not quite ready to let me go yet.
"Please don't leave me alone," she begged, and I swore to her that I wouldn't, never again.
I sent the team a mass text to let them know she was okay, and then I got ahold of JJ and Dave separately to let them know I'd be preoccupied for the next couple of days, and unless it was absolutely necessary, I wouldn't be leaving her. Dave assured me to take all the time I needed, and so did JJ, who'd been worried nonstop since she went missing.
By the time her doctor gave her the go ahead to leave, she was anxious but happy to be going. I'd brought her go bag with me so she had a fresh change of clothes, so I stepped in the hall long enough for her to get dressed and we were on our way to her apartment to grab some of her stuff. I'd never been inside, but the bright, spacious loft apartment reminded me of something out of a movie. The entire space was open, stairs in the middle of the floor to lead to her loft bedroom. She stood at the bottom of the steps and looked back at me, defeated.
"It doesn't even feel like home here anymore," she said sadly before she retreated upstairs to grab her things. I looked around, plaques and diplomas lined the walls—photos of the team, the two of us always side by side in every candid. She was the star of every photo to me, always smiling the brightest or laughing the loudest. I feared it would be a long time before I saw either of those things again, and it made me wish I would've cherished her more then, so she didn't hurt as badly now. If I'd only told her how significant she was, maybe her low would be less detrimental for her.
She returned shortly after with everything she needed; she didn't even put up a fuss when I grabbed her bag to carry for her. She locked the door and didn't look back a single time.
"Do you feel up for some real food?"
She bit her lip, nodding, but she was hesitant, glancing in her visor mirror.
"As long as I don't have to go in anywhere. I don't want anyone seeing me like this."
I could only see her arms, but they were covered in deep purple handprints, and I could make out the clear imprint of a boot on her forearm. Her face was free of any bruises, she just had a small cut on her cheek. I could only imagine what the rest of her body looked like—over 50% of her body had been bruised. It was a miracle that she could walk, given the beating she'd taken. If I knew anything at all about her, she probably enraged him, challenged his manliness and it made her a target of his fury—but she took every bit of it, and I knew she didn't show him any fear. She wouldn't— she was too bold, too brave. I knew she probably took every bit of it and tried to ask for more, just to piss him off.
"I'll do anything you need me to do, okay? Starting with getting you some real food, and a cup of coffee. I was thinking Starbucks," her eyebrows shot I'll curiously before she looked at me, a smirk teasing her lips.
"You hate Starbucks."
I shrugged, because it wasn't about me. It was about making her as happy as I possibly could.
"But you love it, and that's all that matters."
We got food and coffee and her mood lifted slightly; she even became a bit talkative on the way back to my place. I let her carry the food inside while I took care of her bag, since it was heavier. She let me lead her to the table and we ate mostly in silence—she hadn't realized how hungry she was until she actually sat down to eat.
I already had her next order of business lined up; I let her finish eating while I filled the tub in my room. I sat her bag in the bathroom and when I joined her again, I reached for her hand. She followed me all the way down the hall, until we'd made it to the bathroom.
"You're freezing. Let's get you warmed up some," I had a robe from some hotel we'd stayed in before that I left for her, so she had everything she needed to try to relax a little.
"Thank you, Hotch. I really appreciate you," she gave me a hug, her arms secured around my middle. She was so much smaller than me, it made her look fragile, breakable. She was delicate in all of the most attractive ways.
"You don't have to thank me. I—you should call me Aaron," I said finally, delivering one last kiss to the top of her head before I left her alone. Once I had the door shut, my mind was reeling—surely she knew I felt something more for her; she wasn't just a member of my team. She was someone I could see myself with, my partner full time and not just in the field. I let her soak off her worries, but I wasn't far away, just in case she needed me. I was in the living room, making the couch cozier, piling it with pillows and blankets so we could spend the rest of the day in front of the tv, doing nothing. She deserved a break, a few weeks to recover.
I knew she probably wouldn't feel like doing much, so I found some movies she might like and went ahead and put one in, so we could watch it together. I didn't want to pressure her to do anything, but a lazy day sounded exactly like what we both needed after the events of the last few days.
She looked brand new when she came out of the bedroom in her pink pajama bottoms and her t-shirt. She'd braided her hair back and she looked excited to join me on the couch. She took a seat in the middle and let me cover the two of us up, our combined heat under the blanket enough to have her sighing contentedly.
"I feel so much better. I'm still a little sore, but not as bad as before."
Her wrists were still red and irritated from the rope that kept her bound, but some of her bruises were already beginning to fade into greens and yellows—in a few days, they'd be gone completely, and hopefully she'd feel a little better about herself. I knew she was struggling with her image by the way she avoided the mirrors in my home, and how she got anxious if anyone looked at her too long. He'd shattered her self esteem while he had her trapped, and I saw it as my duty to fix it, or at least help her out as much as I could.
"You smell so good, like coconuts and the beach," she giggled lightly, her eyes crinkling up, and my heart melted at the sound. She had the best laugh; it was contagious, and I loved hearing it.
"That makes sense, I think it's called 'Tropical Sunset' or something like that. I've used it for years," I knew the smell better than my own cologne, I could pick her out of a crowd just by the smell of her hair alone.
"I've always liked it," I wondered if she knew I'd paid attention to the little things like that, the way she smelled, what kind of chapstick she preferred. I knew as much about her as I could given that I'd never had the opportunity to actually ask her, but I'd noticed plenty just from being around her everyday.
"I like your cologne too. If I had to guess, I'd bet it's Tom Ford."
I felt my eyes go wide before a let out a chuckle of my own at how well she knew me too.
"You'd be right."
I pressed play on the movie and we settled in, skipping the previews to get straight to the good stuff. After a few minutes, I silently slid my arm around her shoulder, and she leaned in closer, resting her head against me. It felt normal, cuddling with her in my home, somewhere she'd never been but she belonged more than anyone else who'd ever been inside.
"You picked a good movie. This is one of my favorites," she told me, her eyes glued to the tv. I tried not to let my gaze linger on her, but I couldn't help it. She looked so sweet on my arm, her legs tucked in at my side.
"Are you comfortable?" I hoped she was—I didn't want her to move. I was having such a great time getting to be close to her that I hoped JJ didn't call with a case for a week—maybe longer.
"Very. You're so warm," another giggle as she moved a tiny bit closer. I took the liberty of grabbing her legs as carefully as possible as putting them over my lap so she could spread out, watching the relief spread over her face as she melted into me.
"You can sleep if you want, I'll be here when you get up." She shook her head, but her eyes told a different story, she could barely keep them open.
"I'm not tired," she fibbed, her eyelids already beginning to flutter shut as she found her calm laying in my lap. Her free hand reached up, playing with the hair at the back of my neck as she tried and failed to watch the movie.
"You're safe here, you know. I won't leave your side again, not if I can help it," I promised her, and her eyes met mine briefly before she readjusted to lay against one of the pillows. She was stretched out over my lap, her legs on top of mine.
"You swear?" Her sleepy voice was adorable, sweet and inviting as she yawned wide.
I took her hand, trapping it in my own as she drifted off to sleep.
"I swear."
✨✨✨
"Something's not right," she was going over the victimology of the last 6 kills individually, just to see if there was anything we missed.
"What do you mean?" If there was a missing link, she'd find it. She always did. She had a knack for picking up on things we may have missed, which is why Morgan had given her the nickname 'Fresh Eyes'—she was perceptive in a way none of us could really explain, but we were grateful to have her on our side.
"If you saw these 6 victims lined up, what would stick out to you?"
She had a point, and she was trying to get us to see it, all of the victims lined up on a white board.
"They're all dark headed," Spencer pointed out, but she shook her head, ready to explain what we'd been missing.
"Out of all 6 victims, 5 were women with successful careers and no husband. Why change his victimology with Ray Donald? Unemployed, deceased spouse, not to mention he's male and the only survivor? It wasn't a crime of opportunity—Ray lives in the middle of the woods. So why him, after targeting one very specific kind of woman?"
The room went quiet as we all thought about our first interaction with Ray—he'd been jumpy, and Y/n thought he was hiding something from the beginning.
"Y/l/n and I will head to Ray's to question him a second time, see if there are any holes in his story. Morgan, have Garcia find everything she can on him while we're gone. Reid, someone like Ray would need a secondary location to be able to torture in private. Start working on a geographical profile that might tell us where that would be," we were on our way within minutes, Ray's house was only a ten minute drive.
"We should've realized it as soon as we talked to him. His story didn't add up," I was already beating myself up over missing the signs; they'd been right in front of me.
"We were focused on the age grouping of the victims, Hotch. We all missed it," she shot back, trying to help me feel a little better about the situation. She'd caught it though—the newest and youngest member of the team, always shining bright.
"I'll take the back, you cover the front," I told her, watching her sneak up to the front door as I crept around back. His dilapidated house could barely pass for a home—the roof was caving in on one side, and a few windows were broken out. I cleared the back and came back up towards the front, but Y/n was nowhere to be seen—in fact the house was silent, not even her creeping footsteps to tell me where she was.
"It's clear, sound off, Y/n," I called, only to be met with eerie quiet. I ran back outside, searching the perimeter once more, coming up empty. My phone was out immediately.
"Garcia, can you track Y/l/n's phone? I've lost her," I continued to to search the house and the surrounding property until the rest of my team could make it to the scene, and then we all searched for her with no luck. Her phone had been turned off, it's last known signal not too far from the house, but it did us no good unless her phone was on.
"We'll find her, Hotch. We'll work the profile and she'll be okay," Spencer reassured me, but I shook him off and told him to keep looking.
We searched the entire expanse of the property with no sign of her, heading back to the local PD to regroup so we could figure out where he was taking his victims. We followed three dead end leads with no hope until Ray was spotted outside of a local grocery store the day after, and we were able to bring him in for questioning. I feared the worst as he sat in the interrogation room, his hands clasped together on the table. He seemed calm, annoyed to be there, but the profile had told us his confidence would falter when confronted with a man just as intimidating.
"I'm going to save us both a lot of trouble. You tell me where my agent is, and we'll cut a deal, but unless I know she's alive, you can have fun in state prison."
He leaned forward, cracking his knuckles and popping his neck loudly before he spoke.
"Oh, she's alive. I can guarantee she wishes she wasn't, though. She's a fun one—feisty. I'm glad I chose her instead of you," he chided, trying to get under my skin.
"You enjoy hurting women that remind you of your mother, Ray. She looks nothing like her—why would you take her?"
He shrugged, leaning back in his chair to size me up.
"What do you know about her? I know she's your subordinate, and you've read her file, but do you really know what she's been through?"
I knew enough that I didn't ask any questions when she didn't feel comfortable interviewing certain men, and I knew that with the exception of our team, most men made her jumpy and intimidated.
"Why would you think you know more than I do?"
He grinned wide, his gnarly teeth curling into a menacing smile.
"Oh, I watched her just as long as the others, Agent Hotchner. I needed to know she'd been hurt too—all of the women I punished had been hurt by someone that should've loved them."
She never spoke about her family and I feared I might soon learn why.
"Where is she, Ray? All I need is a location," I wasn't getting anywhere with him, he was giving me information I didn't want, trying to hurt me with her.
"Oh, I'm going to tell you, don't worry. Tell me, how long have you known her? Long enough to know her confidence is a facade? The poor girl can hardly look in the mirror she despises herself so much, but I'll bet she comes to work with a smile painted on everyday, doesn't she?"
I unclenched my fists and tried to tune him out until he gave me something useful, but he was only interested in toying with my emotions—he knew she was my soft spot. He could see straight through me when it came to her.
"I had to gag her because she wouldn't quit mouthing off. She's sassy, that one. I'm surprised she follows your orders—she doesn't listen well."
"We're done here, Ray. Have fun in state prison."
"Wait!"
I turned around halfway to the door, hoping he'd at least give me a clue to where she was.
"There's a farm on Farley Road, at least 100 acres. You better find her before the rats do."
"We've already deployed SWAT to Farley Farm—the car is ready," JJ told me as I flew out of the interrogation room and headed for the SUV. I turned my lights on and raced in her direction, Morgan in the passengers seat telling me we'd find her and she'd be okay, and not to worry. I had to take Ray on his word that she was still alive, but he had no reason to lie.
"God, I can't even imagine what she's probably—"
"Morgan. That's enough."
The sun was beginning to set as we pulled into the farm. SWAT had already cleared the house, so we set to work on the grounds, spreading out near the house first. I'd just taken off south when I stepped on something hard covered by hay—after kicking up the hay I realized it was a hole in the ground, literally. There was a wide latch door and a ladder going down, and I could hear movement as I got closer to the bottom.
I nearly lost it when I saw her. She looked like she'd put up a hell of a fight, and thankfully she'd came out on top. I didn't want to think about what would've happened if I hadn't found her.
"You're okay. I've got you now."
✨✨✨
When I woke up, she was still at my side, sleeping peacefully. We'd both managed to get a nap in—it was nearly dusk outside, the sky blue and purple against the horizon. I watched her sleep peacefully against me; she didn't stir for another couple of minutes, stretching and wiping the sleep from her eyes.
"Slept so good," she purred, and it made me not want to get up; she was comfortable on me, and I loved every second of it.
"Me too. You can sleep in my bed tonight if you want," I hoped I wasn't being too forward, but she gave me a sleepy smile before nodding her head.
"As long as you'll share it with me," she decided, and I couldn't say no to her—I didn't want to.
"We can find something for dinner and go watch something in my bed."
She followed me to the kitchen, on my heels as we decided on frozen pizza and breadsticks. I put the pizza in the oven and took her to get situated in my bed.
"You can pick whichever side you want," I told her, and she instinctively crawled to the inside, leaning against the headboard while I handed her the remote. I finished up dinner and put everything on a plate for us, making sure to grab the two of us a bottle of water. She'd already picked a movie, and was watching happily from her side of the bed.
"Smells so good," she marveled, and I'm sure after days without food that her mouth was watering at the sight of it. She took a breadstick, and I was immediately relieved that she wasn't struggling to eat. I worried it was more than the hospital food keeping her from having a meal.
"What are we watching?" I sat down beside her and we started to eat dinner like her in my bed was a regular occurrence.
"Something with aliens," I was immediately interested, and so was she. We had talked plenty enough to know we had things in common; she preferred to stay in, and so did I. We were always the first ones to leave any social gathering, usually sneaking off at about the same time. We'd never leave right away if it was perfectly timed; we'd stand at her car and talk until we were both ready to head home for the night.
The movie took a spooky turn, so after we finished dinner, I turned out the lights. I leaned back and she was next to me in an instant, curling in at my side as the movie played. Her fingertips were on my palm, tracing patterns into my skin as she watched with wide eyes. What we didn't realize was, the main character was being kidnapped, and when she realized what was going on, she put her face into my shoulder and I could feel her cheeks, hot and wet with tears.
"Aaron, I don't want to watch this anymore," she squealed, but I was already changing the channel. A cooking show took its place, and without missing a beat I pulled her into my lap, letting her straddle me with her head buried in the crook of my neck.
"I've got you, sweetheart. You're okay." I would've held her all night if she would've let me. I never would've let her go because I knew how badly she needed me. I feared for the day I'd have to return to the BAU and leave her alone—I'd already planned to let her stay at my place while I was gone if she didn't want to go home.
"I just want it to stop. I can't get it out of my head," she cried, and I squeezed her a little tighter, letting my lips press against her head.
"I know. I wish I could take it from you—I would do anything to be able to take this pain away from you. I'm so sorry, you didn't deserve this, and it's not your fault. I know at some point, work will take me away from you, but I'm here for you through all of this, okay? You're not alone," she let out a shaky breath that she probably didn't even know she'd been holding as she wiped her eyes. She looked up at me, her lip slightly pouty in the most adorable way.
"I'm so glad I have you. I really mean that. I couldn't do this without you, Aaron."
She laid back against me until her breathing steadied and I found out she'd fallen asleep on my chest. I was not about to wake her up, so I carefully slid down until my back was against the mattress and I kept her pressed against me all night long.
✨✨✨
You woke the next morning on top of Aaron, much to your surprise. You'd forgotten about falling asleep on his chest, but you'd assumed he'd move you at some point if he got uncomfortable. He was sleeping in total serenity before you woke him up trying to move to his side. His eyes fluttered open and his grip on your thighs tightened as if to keep you in place.
"Please don't move, been sleeping so good with you on top of me," he cooed, making you lay back down, happy he was content.
"I just thought you'd be ready for me to move," you could hear his heart beating through his shirt, drumming against his chest as you ran your fingers along his sides, still covered by his t-shirt.
"Quite the opposite. I'd keep you like this if I could," you felt the butterflies invade your stomach at his words, because since you'd been at his house, you noticed more about the way he cared for you. He'd went out of his way to kiss your forehead more than once, which made your brain feel fuzzy every time. You hoped that once your body had healed, you could give a piece of yourself to him, if he wanted. You'd been patiently waiting for months—you could wait a while longer.
"I'm awfully cozy," you agreed, knowing there was no place you'd rather be than right on top of him. You felt his hands move to your back, placed gently at the small of it.
"I need to go to the grocery store today and I was hoping you could go with me."
You felt yourself make a face even though he couldn't see you, but he sensed your indecision.
"I look pretty bad, Aaron. My arms—"
"You can wear one of my sweatshirts."
You hesitantly agreed, climbing off of him so you could get dressed. He showed you to the spare bathroom so both of you could shower, and you felt a lot better after you'd finished. As promised, he'd left one of his quarter zips on the couch for you to put on when you were finished.
Your panic didn't set in until you were in the store, and even then you kept your cool, following close enough to Aaron that you were nearly inseparable. He understood your current predicament and offered you his hand while he held his basket with the other. You laced your fingers through his even though you could tell he wasn't used to being so openly affectionate, you appreciated him coming through for you regardless.
You felt a fraction better as you got back to the car, helping him load everything in before you climbed in the passengers seat. You were off to his house in no time, the ride mostly quiet. Once you reached his house and got everything carried in, he found you both a snack, leading you to the couch.
"How much more uninterrupted time with you am I going to be lucky enough to get?" You knew he'd go back to work soon and things would return to normal for everyone but you—you'd be out of work and all alone.
"I'm not going back until Monday." It gave you almost an entire week with him, and you wondered how you got so lucky.
"Mhm. And how long until you'll let me come back to work?"
He thought for a moment before looking you over, his tongue darting out to wet his lips. It was sexier than it should've been, making you come a little closer to him.
"I'd like to see you out of the field for at least a month."
You nodded back at him, knowing it would do no good to argue with him. He could've made it longer—you could manage a month of loneliness. You dreaded the day you'd have to return to your apartment and face it's confining walls alone, more importantly, without Aaron. You didn't know how you'd make it another day without him, honestly. He was your rock, your solitude, and he didn't even realize he was the only thing keeping you from crumbling at any given moment.
"You're okay with that? If you need any more time, we can make that happen too," he wasn't sure how you were feeling, but he made sure you knew he'd accommodate you however he needed to.
"That's fine. It'll probably be good for me."
He opened his arms, so you climbed into his lap, your back against the couch arm's cushion. You were tucked into the corner of the couch, but he seemed satisfied with your current position, letting your legs drape over him, his arm around you.
"I was thinking if you don't want to go home next week, maybe you can stay here. That way when I come back from a case, you're already waiting on me. Would that be okay? I know you don't want to go home, and I don't blame you. So if you feel safe here, we'll get you a key tomorrow."
You were stunned to say the least at his offer, not even sure what to say.
"You're sure?"
He nodded, lacing his fingers through yours before he spoke again.
"You're my best friend. You should've had a key to my house a long time ago. You're always at home here."
You hugged him, your arms around his neck and your cheek smushed against his. You practically predicted his lips on your cheek, inhaling sharply when he didn't stop, he kissed the corner of your mouth next before his deep, dark eyes were peering back into yours, waiting on the green light. You didn't answer, instead your lips met his, tender and loving as he finally gave in and kissed you like he'd never kissed anyone before. You were in awe at how his lips felt against your own, like he'd been made just for you. You felt the smile on his face as he pulled back to look at you, his hand cupping your cheek.
"I'd really like to kiss you all the time." You couldn't help but to smile back at him, because you'd been waiting so long to experience what it would be like to have him like this, and it was finally coming true.
"I'm yours whenever you'll have me," you promised him, his nose lightly brushing against yours before he kissed you again, his hand on the back of your neck so he could pull you in closer. Now that you had him you didn't want to stop, but you didn't want the first time he saw you naked to be right now either. You needed to wait—for yourself, and your image.
He knew he could only kiss you for now, but he didn't mind—he wanted to kiss you all the time anyway.
"I'm going to make us dinner, come with me?" You nodded but he didn't let you go, he carried you to the kitchen and sat you on the counter so you could keep him company while he worked. The house began to fill with the tasty aroma of dinner as he buzzed around the kitchen. You enjoyed everything about it, watching him cook, tasting things he wanted you to try as he was cooking. You had no trouble adjusting to being around him, but he'd been right—he was your best friend too, and now he was something much more.
"I was thinking when you feel up to it, we could go out for dinner, on a date," he said from across the table, his legs brushing yours beneath the tablecloth.
"I've waited a long time to go on a date with you," you admitted, watching him beam back at you.
"I'll take you out any time you want. Maybe this weekend?"
You took a bite of pasta and nodded; this weekend sounded like the perfect time. You still had plenty of time to prepare yourself mentally, because you hadn't expected him to become a staple in your life in more ways than one so quickly.
"That sounds perfect."
✨✨✨
Unfortunately, Aaron was called back to the field a couple of days early, and it was a situation where his presence was absolutely needed. He woke you in the middle of the night to tell you he had no choice, that he had to go, so he kissed you and left, promising to be back in time for your date. The first morning you woke up without him, you felt the swift pang of loneliness as soon as you reached for his side of the bed. You rolled over and laid on his pillow instead, his scent left behind on it, wrapping you up just as he would. You quickly fell back asleep and didn't wake again until there was a knock at his door. You were petrified to answer it, because no one knew you were there except for Aaron, and you couldn't imagine him telling anyone else where you were.
You waited until the knocking had ceased before you got brave enough to peep through the windows and see who it was. A delivery van was pulling away from the curb, so you opened the door carefully and found a gorgeous vase of flowers sitting on the porch, your favorite color. You were even more terrified until you picked them up and read the card attached, your heart thumping in your chest for an entirely new reason.
I just wanted you to know even though I'm not there, you haven't left my mind. I'll be home soon.
Inside of the small envelope was a key, no doubt to his house. You knew it took a lot of work to pull something like this off, and something told you that Penelope Garcia was helping him from her office at Quantico while he was out of town. You knew he was in New York, so he wasn't too far away, but even then, you didn't know when he'd have the time to do something so sweet if he was focused entirely on his work.
Your first order of business was to go get your car—it was still at your apartment, and you didn't want to be stuck with no vehicle, so you locked his house up and tried to calm your nerves in the back of a taxi. The driver was polite enough, but you were in no mood to have a conversation with him. You tipped and thanked him before getting into your car, feeling a little bit better once you were behind the wheel.
You were going to spend the day out of the house, in hopes that it would be good for your mental health. The sun was shining, and the weather was only a little chilly; your light jacket was perfect to combat the cold. Your bruises were beginning to fade completely, the only one being stubborn was a boot print across your abdomen. It was beginning to disappear but it was haunting you for fear that it might stay forever.
Your plan was to shop until you felt a little bit better about everything that was going on. You hadn't expected to run into Penelope right after you'd gotten coffee inside of the Starbucks in the mall, but she was already hugging you, gently and carefully, unlike her usual bear hugs.
"God, you look radiant. A few days out of the field and you look like you could be on the runway," she beamed, and you felt yourself roll your eyes playfully as the two of you walked around, sipping coffee and catching up.
"Oh, please. I look like fresh hell, Pen. But I'm doing okay. Trying to come out of this funk," you'd been afraid of your own shadow, creeping around every corner in fear of what you might find. You spent the first night away from Aaron on the couch, your sidearm on the table while you tried to sleep. You were used to sleeping with it nearby—on really bad nights, it wasn't uncommon to be within arms reach, usually on your bedside table.
"You're allowed to be funky right now. You've been through so much. Listen, I don't want to pry, but the boss man had me send you flowers and a key to his house this morning," she wiggled her eyebrows for any details you might be willing to share with her, and so you decided to let it all out because you knew you could trust her, and she already suspected something.
"He's been great, really. I'm staying at his house. I think the key was so I'd drag myself off of the couch. I know he's worried. We uh—we kissed," you blushed, and she squealed in delight, a bright smile on her face.
"God, I LOVE! You two were made for each other. He was so sweet asking me to do it this morning, it was like, 6 am. He wanted you to wake up to flowers!" She gushed, and your stomach did a flip as you entered one of your favorite stores.
"He's taking me on a date this weekend," she stopped in her tracks, fanning her face with her hands.
"We have to find you something to wear! Oh my god, I'm so glad I ran into you!" Penelope spent the better half of her day helping you choose a dress and shoes, your Unit Chief the topic of conversation the entire day. You'd just stopped for lunch when her phone rang and she raised her eyebrows, showing you the caller ID.
"Hi sir, what can I do for you?"
She listened intently, a smile creeping onto her face.
"Actually I don't even have to do that, she's right here eating lunch."
You knew she'd fill you in on all the details when she got off the phone, so you sat and ate, knowing you were what he'd called about. It made your heart skip a beat that he was having Penelope to check on you, make sure you were okay without him.
"I'll tell her! Call if you need anything," she hung up the phone, her hands under her chin.
"Someone's got it bad for you."
You felt the heat rise to your cheeks as Penelope told you he was just checking in to see if she'd heard from you, and to make sure you had a nice time out of the house. They were hoping to have the case wrapped up by tonight and fly out first thing in the morning.
"He's going to take a couple days off. I don't know if I'm supposed to tell you, but he asked me to file the request for him this morning."
You weren't surprised considering the time he'd wanted with you had gotten cut short. If he requested it, there was no way they'd pull him back, not unless they had to. He never took personal days, but that was all changing quickly.
"He's like a dream. I don't really know if I deserve him or not," you admitted, and Penelope shook her head, sipping her drink.
"Don't you dare think that. You're perfect for each other, and he cares so much about you. You should let him make you happy."
You wandered the mall a bit longer, but you left to go to the grocery store, picking up a few things for when Aaron was back in town. You hoped it would be tomorrow like planned, but you knew the way the BAU operated, and it could often be unpredictable.
When you were back in the comfort of his home, you showered and got dressed for the night, spreading out across the couch. Usually you would've been in his bed, but you weren't tired yet. In fact, every hair on your body stood straight up in anxiety. You hadn't figured out why yet, but you were trying to ignore it—until your palms got clammy and you felt like you might pass out. You felt your face and it was hot to the touch, so you took one of the pills that the hospital sent you home with and laid back, hoping it would help soon.
By the time you found yourself calm, your phone was ringing. It was the first time Aaron had actually called you since he left.
"How're you feeling?" He offered no greeting, he immediately expressed his concern which told you how badly he missed you.
"I'm a lot better now. Thank you for the flowers," you wondered if he heard the smile in your voice, because you certainly felt your heart swell simply at the mention of them.
"Anything for you. I'm actually heading home, we finished things up quicker than anticipated. I'm hoping you'll still be on my couch by the time I get there," he purred, his voice much more seductive than he'd intended it to be.
"I can't think of anywhere else I'd rather be," you'd been more than openly flirting with him since the two of you had started to get to know each other on a more serious level, and he loved every second of it; he was happy that you were just as interested in him.
"I'll grab dinner and you can find us something to watch," he acted like the two of you already lived together and it was just another Thursday coming home to you.
"It's a date," you chirped before you said your goodbyes and anticipated his return.
✨✨✨
I couldn't get home fast enough.
Pulling into the driveway knowing she was already there made me giddy, and now she had a key and could come and go as she pleased. I wouldn't have minded her spending every night in my bed, but I knew eventually she'd go back home and we'd have to start seeing each other when we had free time—but for now I had a week to spend with her, approved and finalized hours prior.
She met me at the door, wrapping me in a hug before I could even get the key in the door.
"Missed you," it was quiet but she'd said it, and I'd missed her more than she'd ever know; I hated having to leave her.
"I'm here now. I brought your favorite," I held up my bag for her to see and I filled her in on the case while we ate; I didn't give her many details and she understood why, listening intently anyway. She told me about her day out with Penelope and how she was trying to get to where she felt normal again. I didn't know how long it would take, but I'd stay by her side for any amount of time.
She was wearing a tank top with thin straps, most of her bruises faded significantly. Most of them had disappeared completely after the first couple of days, and I knew she was happy about that. I could tell by what she was wearing that she was starting to feel a little better about herself and I was thankful. I'd always be around to help boost her self esteem, but I wanted her to feel good in her own skin too.
"I'm excited to take you out, but I love nights like this with you," she didn't hide her smile as she sat down her to go box and looked at my lap, silently asking permission to climb into it. I moved anything that could be an obstacle out of her way and she was straddling me, her arms hooked around my neck.
"No one else I'd rather spend my nights with," she whispered, delivering a feather light kiss to my neck. I felt the goosebumps appear almost instantly, which only made her do it again. I shivered as her lips met my skin a second time, directly on the throbbing vein in my neck. My hands met the small of her back, her tank top ridden up slightly, exposing just enough skin to drive me mad.
"You want to know a secret?" She stopped long enough to look at me, nodding her head curiously.
"I've wished you were here everyday since I met you," I confessed, her eyes lingering on my lips as I spoke.
"That makes two of us. Surely you knew before now how I felt about you," I brought my hand to her face, and she leaned into my touch, a soft smile on her face.
"I had a pretty good idea, but I needed to be sure."
My lips met hers expectantly, the two of us so lost in each other that nothing else mattered except for her tongue in my mouth and my hands on her waist.
"Are you sure now?" She asked in a breathless whisper against my mouth, to which I nodded profusely; I didn't want to stop—I wanted to read her like a book, spread her open and take my time learning everything about her.
"Absolutely certain," I moaned into her mouth, her fingers dexterously working at the buttons of my shirt before she helped me shrug it off completely. Her fingertips slipped beneath the hem of my shirt and blazed hot against my skin, so I tossed my shirt aside. Her mouth peppered kisses across my chest and collarbone, leaving me writhing beneath her, wondering what her mouth would feel like everywhere else.
"So sexy," she said, her nails leaving streaks on my skin, marking me as hers—I was eager to belong to her, no one else even crossed my mind.
"You're perfect, everything about you," I loved all of her quirky traits and qualities, the little idiosyncrasies that made her special to me. I was convinced that no one would ever know me like she did, and I didn't want them to. She was the only person I'd considered letting in for a long time; I wouldn't want anyone else as long as she promised to stay.
She was swiftly working on my belt and the button to my pants, shoving them down to my ankles as she gave me the sweetest smile, toying with the waistband of my boxers. We were treading uncharted territory but I had already planned to give her every ounce of control—I wanted everything to be at her pace, so she didn't get uncomfortable.
"I want to touch you," her chin rested on my knee as she peered up at me, lips turned upwards the slightest, her cheeks pink. Her pupils were nearly blown out already and I hadn't even touched her yet. She was on her knees in front of me and I was too stunned to speak, I could only nod as she slid my boxers down and took my dick in her hands, stiff and throbbing for her. I hadn't realized how badly I wanted her until I came home to her and it was as if right here was where she always belonged. She was already more comfortable in my home than I'd ever allowed anyone to get, and I was ecstatic about it. I wanted her to feel safe, feel like as long as she was with me or at my home, nothing bad could happen to her.
Within seconds she'd plopped my dick in her mouth and I watched with wide eyes as she bobbed and gagged on me, saliva coating me and allowing me to slide easily into her mouth. My hips had a mind of their own as I guided my cock into the warmth of her throat, tears pricking her eyes as she nodded for more.
"Feels so good, been wanting this forever," I choked, her smile unmistakable even with my cock in her throat. It only made her take more of me, until she had nearly every inch of me stuffed in her mouth, her hand wrapped around the rest of my length. Her wrist worked in fluid motion with her mouth to send me spiraling—I felt myself finish deep in her throat with a groan, my hand rooted in her hair as she swallowed every last drop. She let my dick fall from her mouth, so I pulled up my boxers and pulled her into my lap before kissing her hard on the mouth.
"You make me so happy," I never wanted her to go—I hoped this would mean our time off would be spent together, and she'd be away from me as little as possible.
"That's all I ever wanted to do," she breathed, and I knew it was the truth. She'd always gone out of her way for me, and I tried to do the same for her. It was an unspoken agreement between the two of us that we always take care of each other, and now that was solidified by something stronger than being partners. We shared a special connection, one that I hadn't felt in such a long time that it was almost hard to catch myself once I knew I was falling. As soon as I knew she'd have me too, there was nothing to be worried about anymore. I knew without a shadow of a doubt where I stood with her, and it was more comforting than anything I'd ever felt.
"Hold on, I'm going to move you to the bed," I kicked out of my pants and carried her down the hall, laying her gently in the middle of the bed. She looked heavenly laid out in front of me, all I could do was scramble between her legs, admiring everything about her, from the way her pajamas fit on her hips to the curve of her breasts through the thin fabric of her tank top. It only took me a second to be hovering over top of her, my lips hungry against hers. As if she sensed my indecisiveness, she leaned up long enough to take off her tank top, letting me kiss her neck and chest, my hands reaching for her bra clasp. She helped me to get it unfastened before it hit the floor, my tongue swirling around her nipples. Her sweet little moans were like music to my ears as she wiggled against the mattress, desperate for my mouth in more than one place.
"Can I take these off?" I already had my fingers looped in the band of her pants, she just needed to tell me yes.
"Please," she pleaded, and in seconds I was dragging them down her hips, licking my lips at the sight of her nearly naked in my bed.
"You're exquisite. Thank you for trusting me like this. I won't make you regret it," truth be told, I'd do anything she asked for the rest of my life. I could easily picture my future with her, mapped out as clear as the moon in the sky.
"I know you won't," she was confident in her answer as I toyed with her through her panties, her brows pulling together instantly as soon as my fingers made contact with her clothed center. I'd been aching to touch her for so long that it almost felt surreal to finally be able to; I studied all of her curves, the swell of her breast, all the way to her legs. I drug her panties down her legs as slowly as I could manage, trying not to get ahead of myself when all I wanted to do was crash headfirst into her, give her everything I'd been holding back for the last year and a half.
✨✨✨
You were sure nothing on Earth could compare to the feeling of Aaron's lips wrapped around your clit like his life depended on giving you as many orgasms as you could handle. He was merciless; his tongue flicking your soaked bundle of nerves, your legs propped up on his shoulders so he could spread you open completely. You knew just by how he treated you that he'd be a selfless lover, and you'd been correct—he had no plans of stopping any time soon. His head rested on your upper thigh as he worked tirelessly to bring you more pleasure than you ever thought possible.
Now that you had him, you couldn't imagine sharing him ever again. You wanted to be the only one that experienced him at his most sensual; you had a hunch that he felt the same way, given that he'd completely surrendered to you, willing to do anything you asked him.
"Could never get tired of tasting you," he panted, his nose brushing your clit as he buried his face in your pussy, moaning into you without abandon. You weren't about to stop him, not when he looked more serene than ever, making your legs shake uncontrollably as your orgasm rattled through you. Your hands were rooted in his hair but only to ground yourself—he didn't need a guide, he knew exactly where you needed his mouth, his lips pressed gently to your clit, kissing it delicately.
"Feels so good," you managed to choke out, and he nodded in agreement, because he was enjoying it just as much as you were.
"Mhm. Feels like heaven every time you cum on my tongue," he'd long since abandoned his filter, filthier than you ever knew he could be. It was the sexiest thing you'd ever heard, his deep, nearly gravelly voice brought you more pleasure than you'd expected; you'd be soaked at the sound of him speaking alone.
You were hooked—simple as that.
No other man would ever be able to satisfy you the way that he was, and you knew it for a fact. No one else would take their time in learning your body like he did, experimenting until he discovered how you needed to be touched, and then doing everything in his power to make it incredible for you. It left your heart pounding and your brain reeling—you hoped he was here to stay, because you had no brakes now that you'd gotten started.
"You're perfect, Aaron," it was the only sentence you could form, and judging by the look on his face, he was happy to hear it. His lips curved into a stellar smile before he reattached his lips to your clit and sucked furiously, making your vision go blurry as your head hit the pillow.
"I was just thinking that exact same thing about you, sweetheart," he crawled up your body, leaving wet, sticky kisses as he traveled toward your mouth. His tongue felt divine against your flushed skin, goosebumps appearing shortly after. He met your mouth with haste, his tongue swirling around in your mouth deliciously as he used his knee to part your legs further.
"Please, Aaron," you could barely contain your excitement as he pressed into you at a snails pace, shivering as he sank further into you. You held your breath as he filled you, exhaling once he'd bottomed out completely and began to pump in and out of you, his hands on your body like you were the most precious piece of artwork he'd ever seen and he just needed to touch you or he might burst. You felt his desire for you over every inch of your body, radiating throughout the room as he looked into your eyes.
"I swear I'll never want anyone else. You just feel so good, baby," the term of endearment rolled so easily off of his tongue that you just knew he'd been dying to use it with you, it came too naturally to him. You captured his lips with yours, cupping his face as he made love to you for the first time. That was the only way you could describe it—it was tender and gentle and exactly what you needed from him, and he knew it.
"I'm all yours," you promised him, feeling the smile on his lips that appeared right after. You could feel the pressure building in the pit of your stomach as his hips met yours at an agonizingly slow pace—it was sensual and steady, making you lose control quicker than you could register, your body going limp beneath his.
"That's it, sweetheart. I've got you, let it all go."
You'd never had a first time quite like this one; you were comfortable despite the fact that he'd never seen you naked, but you knew he adored you. It gave you a strange sense of familiarity, easing all of your nerves before they ever had time to surface. He was the most patient, loving man you'd had the privilege of meeting, and you were thankful that you had him in your life.
You'd never seen so much passion exuded from one man, but you weren't surprised. You knew deep down, past his stoic, stern exterior that his soft spot was you; you gave him a reason to show his sweet, sensitive side, and you were the only one lucky enough to experience it.
"I can't wait to give you all of me," he muttered against your lips, his thrusts becoming more urgent, his lip pulled between his teeth. You pressed sweet kisses to his neck, wrapping your arms around his broad frame to keep him close to you. You drug your nails across his back, feeling the muscles of his shoulder blades clench up at your touch. He filled you seconds later, finishing deep inside of you as his mouth crashed against yours in desperation. He stayed still, his forehead pressed to yours as the two of you tried to catch your breath.
"I'm obsessed with you," he broke the silence, making you smile from ear to ear as he gazed down at you. Your nose brushed his lightly before he kissed you, his hand brushing your hair away from your face so he could see all of you.
"I really hope you keep me around," you shot him a wink, a chuckle falling from his parted lips.
"I hope you understand that I'll want you, forever. It's always been you. I'd never even think about giving anyone else the time of day."
As if to show you he was serious, you felt his cock throb inside of you; he'd never moved, still buried deep between your thighs. You let out a barely audible whimper that had him stiff and needy in an instant.
"I really like the idea of forever with you," you'd barely had time to get the words out and he was sitting up on his knees, carefully placing your legs on his shoulders. You were folded up beneath him, able to watch him slip in and out of you, his thick cock pulsing with each slow stroke into your soaked center. He kissed your calf, his hands massaging your thighs, the rough, callused pads of his fingers kneading your sensitive flesh. It was a blissful combination, his hands on your body as he made himself at home inside of you. He sped things up a bit, hitting your g-spot at the perfect angle to have your back arching off the mattress.
"Such a good girl," his fingers met your chin, tilting your face upward to look at him before he found your hand and laced his fingers through yours. His gaze was penetrating and intimate as he brought you close to the edge once more, your eye struggling to stay open as you moaned his name. He loved every sound you made, a string of profanity falling from his lips, his eyes trained on his cock slipping out of you. You could tell he was getting close, drilling into you rapidly, the slamming of his hips into yours bouncing off the walls and echoing throughout his empty house. He came with a shudder, his eyes nearly rolling back, his thumb brushing across your knuckles.
"I hope you never get tired of me," you moved your legs so you could pull him forward, your lips on his. You could hear the insecurities in his voice although you were certain he was trying his best not to let it show. You brought your hand to his cheek, kissing him with all of the force you had, a moan escaping his lips as he held onto you for dear life. You'd never wanted anyone so badly, had such a strong connection and deep desire to belong to him.
"Never. You are everything I've ever wanted, Aaron. I'll never let you go. I can't thank you enough for what you've done for me this week. It means more to me than you'll ever know," you'd been going through so much mental turmoil, but Aaron made it all so much better. Just being around him calmed your darkest fears, knowing you were safe and he'd protect you from anything.
"You don't have to thank me. I want to take care of you every way that I can. Truthfully, I'll be sad to see you go. I'm already so used to having you around, and I love every second that you're here."
He slid out of you, finding a towel to clean you up before he joined you in the bed, pulling the covers over your naked bodies. You didn't bother getting dressed; you were cozy.
"Being alone is really hard for me right now. I missed you so much when you were gone," the days had felt like an eternity away from him, the seconds passing by slower than usual. You'd been so happy to have him back that you counted the hours until he'd returned.
"You have a key now, you can come and go as you please. You never have to be alone anymore, not if I'm around."
You cooked dinner together, eating at the table instead of his bed made things a bit more romantic than usual, with the two of you seated across from each other, your legs touching beneath the table. It was sweet, the two of you talking long after you’d finished your meal. You helped him with the dishes, which he tried to protest, but you did it anyway, the two of you stood at the sink like a married couple cleaning before you settled down for the night.
You fell asleep like a rock with him by your side, thinking you’d doze into peaceful slumber; you couldn’t have been more wrong.
When you opened your eyes, you were no longer in the back of a rickety pick up truck, bouncing against the cool metal of the floor. Wherever you were was cold—wet. You could smell the mist, invading your nostrils, making you get choked up. You began to panic when you realized you were gagged, unable to scream, or cry properly. You struggled to breathe, trying desperately to break free from whatever held you captive.
Your thoughts automatically flitted to Hotch, who’d been with you mere hours prior. You hoped he was okay, wherever he was. You tried to move around, but with your hands and feet tied, it was nearly impossible. You were stuck.
As if by a miracle, you could hear Derek’s voice from above, shouting your name. They were walking right over top of whatever you were in. You tried to move again, this time knocking something off of a nearby table. Movement ceased above you before their footsteps disappeared completely. You listened to them look for hours before they finally gave up their search, leaving you stranded. You heard the crunch of every individual tire as they drove away, the tears hot on your face as you accepted your fate.
“Shhh, you’re alright. I’ve got you,” you woke up with your limbs flailing, your cheeks wet. You were in Aaron’s arms, secured by his strong grip. You buried your face in his shirt as you tried to shake the nightmare from your mind. Aaron held you close, kissing your head, a soothing hand on your back.
“I was so scared,” you choked, and he nodded in understanding, cradling your head so he could bring you closer.
“I know, baby. I’m so sorry. I wish I could tell you that it gets easier, but the important thing to remember is that I’m always here for you, no matter what. I won’t let anything else hurt you,” he kissed your cheek, his thumb brushing a stray tear away before it could drop onto your shirt.
You wrapped your arms around him, wanting to stay smushed into his chest for a little while longer, as long as he’d let you. He had an idea, bringing you to mount his lap, your head laying against his chest, just like that very first night. You fell asleep on top of him, no longer worried about what horrors might manifest once you closed your eyes—as long as you were with him, your worries seemed a million miles away.
✨✨✨
I admired the way she could stay put all night long without moving, because I woke up to her hair tickling my neck; I was just happy to have her to wake up to. I let her sleep, brushing her hair back so I could look at her face. Her mouth open the tiniest sliver, every muscle in her face relaxed, her breathing steady. She’d been restless that night, talking and thrashing in her sleep, but once she finally settled down some, she slept soundly. My hands were on the small of her back, beneath her shirt, her skin warm against my palms. My thumbs barely brushed her sides but it was enough to have her giggling sleepily, nuzzling into my neck as her eyes fluttered open.
“Tickles,” she muttered against me, her lips grazing my neck. I didn’t try to hide the shiver that came immediately after, which lead to her doing it again. I knew she could feel my dick growing stiff under her waist, pressed snug against her center. In perfect timing, she rolled her hips against me, our underwear the only barrier between us.
“Can I ride you?” Her voice was the softest thing I’d ever heard, hushed and still slightly raspy from sleep. I gave her an enthusiastic nod as she tugged off her underwear and slid mine down enough to free me from my boxers before she took my cock in her hand and lined herself up with me, peering down at me as she sank onto my length. It was the first time she’d ever taken charge and done the work, so I sat back and watched in awe as she used me, expertly working my length until we were both a sweaty, panting mess. It was lazy and fulfilling, the light barely creeping in through the curtains and the neighborhood still quiet on the rest of the block.
Her hips rolled against me in the most incredible way, my dick deep inside of her as she leaned forward and bounced on my dick, making me grip her thighs for support. She came undone, whimpering my name as she rode out her high, but I wasn’t far behind her; her mouth met mine and I filled her, holding her hips in place so she could take every drop. I loved being able to give myself to her, that she’d allow me to have her body in such a sacred way.
“I could never get tired of this,” I told her as she slipped off of me, my first instinct to get up and clean her off so she didn’t have to move just yet.
“Does this mean I’m your girlfriend?” We hadn’t explicitly had a conversation about it, but I figured it would come up sooner rather than later. She felt like so much more than my girlfriend; she felt like the woman I’d be growing and sharing a life with, and there was no label for that.
“You’re so much more than just my girlfriend—you’re my person. You’re my better half.”
She climbed out of bed so she could come give me a hug, her arms tight around me. She was the most special part of my life, and now that I had her I’d do anything to keep her. I didn’t want to know a life without her ever again.
“You’re the better half,” she shot back teasingly, and I was thrilled to see her getting back to her usual, playful self. I rolled my eyes at her, touching my lips to her forehead.
“Still feel up for going out with me tonight? I want to take you to dinner,” she nodded into my chest, peppering it with kisses.
“I’d go anywhere with you,” she assured me, pulling me back into the bed so we could waste the rest of the day wrapped up in each other.
Taglist: @wheelsupkels @periodtcevans
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Text
Don't Come to Me Pt. 5.
Oh hello there. This was a freaking rollercoaster for me. I struggled with motivation for the last 2 months, so please be kind to me, i literally sweat tears and blood with this (can you see me over exaggerate?). It's smut, and im not the best in that, i would like to have some feedback if it's good or not. Thanks guys for baring with me.
Billy Russo X F!Reader, mentions of Frank Castle X F!Reader
Warnings: Cursing, fingering, orgasm denial, unprotected PinV, cream+pie, Billy being full of himself as always, kinda obsessed with the thought of beating Frank
Summary: After an unsuccessful attempt of killing his best friend, Billy comes home to you waiting for him in his house , his clothes, drinking his beer. And he believes that is a bigger win than he can ever achieve against Frank.
Taglist: @gwynethhberdara @icarus-isflying @intothesoul @malfoyeyess
(let me know if you want to be removed or added to the taglist)
Part 4 Part 6
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It was fucking obvious by that time that Frank won't take up that deal. He won't just grab his new name, his hopes and reams, if he has any outside of bloodlust, and walk into Billy's trap. Billy knows now it was a longshot, but Frank's face told him another story. He saw that tiny little sparkling light that he might do just what Billy told him he should do.
His mind was racing as he left the docks, the last few long hours now felt like a dream, a small piece of his memory, while in reality it was the most torturing hours in his whole life.
He and his crew picked out just for this, for killing his brother, waited and waited patiently until there was no denying it anymore. Frank choose to stay, and he was relieved, then angry then numb. He wished Frank just showed up so he could end it, and have his normal life back, but the fucking guilt ate him away when he let his mind wonder long enough. Wonder to you. How devastated you'll be when Frank disappears from your life. But he'll be there for you, picking up the pieces and erase Frank Castle from your memory. He'll be just a sad blurry face in your mind, Billy will make sure he is filling every empty slots in your memory, not leaving space for anybody else.
He can taste success on his tongue when he finds you on his couch, in his t-shirt looking bored out of life until your eyes lit up with fire when you realize he's there.
"Darling why are you up? It's past two, told you not to wait for me." Yeah he told you, but he's over the moon that you in fact stayed up. The past week he mainly saw you sleepy, in a hurry to get in work in time, or for in stolen moments in your lunch break. Not how he imagined to win you over, but life just kept interfering, putting obstacles between you to make it harder for him.
Oh but goddamn you look out of this world as you bounce of the couch crashing your body into his, snaking hands up to his neck to pull him down for a kiss. You taste like beer, bitter but refreshing. When you let go, he can see the empty bottle on the coffee table.
"I see you had fun time without me." He teases, pulling you closer by your hips, the shirt on you wrinkling up revealing the bottom of your ass. He wants to do so many things right now, your skin burning through the fabric where his palm pressed against you.
"Nah, just passed the time. Thought i just wait for you and have some of that date you promised me." Uh, burn. He did promised you a date, but of course work got in the way. Again. You aren't bitter or angry with him, a bright smile reaching your eyes, but he knows you were excited about the night. He must look like a sad puppy because your voice softens.
"I arrived late too, so don't worry about it. Life's been busy." He can't help but wonder, were you busy with Frank? Or did he stayed away like he said he would? You are here, in his apartment, wearing his clothes, drinking his beer so that's a good sign. He wants to ask, to pry, to interrogate you about everything you and Frank talked or did. He's dying to know every detail.
"Earth to William! Hello!" You wave you hand in front his face, that makes Billy refocus on your lovesick expression, eyes searching for his, fingerstips caressing the nape of his neck.
"You are so fucking beautiful." He breaths before crushing his lips to yours.
*
Frank said the same thing a couple nights ago. The same thing but inherently differently. Billy's words have needs and wants. Every letter is coated with something primal. It's shaking your insides, goosebumps appearing on your skin.
Frank's words were soft, unintended. He took you off guard, in the middle of talking about your stupid day, stupid life, stupid nothings. In that moment you forgot what's happening and happened to him. He made you smile ear to ear, thanking him as your finger brushed your hair out of your face.
You don't wan to compare them, it's not fair, not right on so many levels. But you can't help it.
Life just dropped two handsome and difficult men into you lap at the same time to deal with, and you don't have a clue how you'll gonna do it.
"Earth to Y/N!" Billy tilts his head, searching your face for any sign of you being present, slightly mocking you with his choice of words. You collect yourself, mind slipping back to here and now, feeling his hands on your waist massaging and circling your clothed skin.
"Kiss me again." You demand softly with closed eyes. Need. You feel the matching energy, the same yearning you feel and see on Billy. "Please kiss me."
Nothing happens, you can feel his hot breath on your face, his body stays still and it scares you. Maybe you said something wrong? Did something wrong?
You open your eyes a little, seeing him stunned from your words. His eyes moves from your eyes to your lips, his mouth slightly parted, chest rising and falling heavily. Gosh he's beautiful.
"Billy?"
"Say it again." He croaks. His dreamy expression twists into something animalistic.
"Kiss me." You repeat, now self conscious hearing yourself clearer. You blush like crazy, and you'd like to run and hide, but his hands are firm on you, and his face is priceless. Like you confessed your undying love for him. You might did with these simpler words."Have me."
It just slips, and now you can't stop. You start playing with the hem of his coat, pushing it painfully slow over his shoulders. "Make me feel good."
He does just that. Your feet leaves the ground, Billy scooping you up by grabbing your ass, forcing you to hang your legs around his hips. The air is thick as he tries to get a good taste of you, his tongue hungrily battling with yours, you biting down on his lower lip earning a deep groan of his. It's music to your ears.
You stumble into the bedroom, bumping into stuff on the way, making you giggling into his mouth, kissing his smirk away. All the noise in the room is your wet sloppy battle of your mouths, moans and little whispers, a big yelp from you when he buries you under him while dropping into the bed he didn't touched for days now.
He's like the fog. Coats and fills everything and anything. He's all on you, chest pressed against yours, lips on your neck, nibbling the skin, hands roaming every reachable part of you. He is all you can see, hear and feel at this moment. Nothing else just William.
"Is this good?" He roars in your ear, suddenly so loud and raging, but in reality his voice was merely above a whisper. "Hmm?"
"Yes.." Wish you could gain back your ability to speak. You can't find your voice, the only thing you can concentrate on is his jeans causing a sweet friction between your thighs. You breath hitches in your throat when his hips pushes your legs wider, reaching your core clothed in just a thin panties.
"Gosh, do that again." You don't know what he really means, you can't remember what was your thought a second ago, the thrust of his hips against you forces a loud moan out of you. "There we go, that's it. Again."
He repeats, faster and harder, your head spins with the pleasure building up inside you. He's teasing you, and he enjoys it more than anything else in this world, you can see it on his face. Smug, wide toothy grin, satisfied with his affect on your whole being.
You became erratic, trying to peel his clothes off with shaky hands, eagerly grasping any and every part of him you can reach, he lets out a low chuckle, embarrassment growing in the back of your head, still not enough to stop you from nudging his shirt, playing with the buttons. You are just fumbling, he's the one doing the work of undressing himself for you, and you keep hearing his smiley scoffs watching you get greedy.
His eyes shifts between you and the buttons, cursing faintly when the last one is putting up a fight with his fingers. You push his hands aside, undoing the button easily, and the relief on his face is priceless. He tosses the clothing on the ground, his muscles shifting and moving under his glowing skin.
"You are fucking amazing." You breath out, looking up into his eyes, he needs to know you mean it. Every word of praise and love, you mean it. He's taken aback a little, looking at you the same he did when you kissed him back in the living room. Like you are out of this world, a dream come true.
He kisses you with burning fire, pulling your shirt over your head, leaving you bare and naked, not wasting any time to get to know closer all that skin he never touched before. You gasp when his mouth locks on your nipple, then the other, switching between them, leaving wet patches all around you chest, his breath making you shiver against his body heat.
The heat that retreats suddenly, forcing you to lift your heavy eyelids. He towers over you, positioned between you thighs, watching you with darkened eyes. Scanning your face, chest and belly, his gaze travelling down to your panties, already soaked.
You watch him mesmerized, eagerly waiting for what he's about to do. Well, if you can wait it out. You hips rocks against him softly, your arms twitching while you calculate if you can reach him from your position. He might realized you don't have the patience for his teasing right now, his big hand pressed down on your lower belly, thumb slowly sliding down to your clit, making you gasp loudly. He doesn't stop there, after a tiny pressure he goes further, brushing the wet material, mumbling under his nose.
"Damn fucking hell." He slides his thumb up and down for a couple of times before pushing your panties to the side. Not wasting any time, he slips his middle finger inside you, gently picking up a nice and steady pace pounding in and out. Your hips rock against his finger, when you think you can get the right rhythm, his thumb pushes down on your little bud, another finger joins his middle one, completely throwing you off course. He's the one in charge, and you are compliant to whatever he wants to do with you.
*
Just the sheer sight of you pushes Billy to the edge. Spread wide under him, vulnerable just for him, moaning and sighing in pleasure while his fingers works. He can't believe he missed out on you all these years, the perfect woman was in front of his eyes all along, who would have given him everything on this world, including herself, in and out.
His thoughts adding fuel to his own need, his cock twitching in his pants when you flutter around his fingers. Billy hears you muttering. Sometimes it's i want you, i need you, sometimes it's have me, i'm yours. He swears it's the biggest turn on hearing you pleading, for him, for anything he can give.
He can feel you nearing your climax, your breaths rapid, hips swinging faster into his hand. At this point you are fucking yourself on his fingers. He has to slows down a little, and you whine in response, your hands moving between you legs, trying to force Billy's hand to continue with the previous fastness.
But he denies you this, smirking seeing your frustrated face, eyelids open slightly, he knows you barely can see through them, lost in his touch.
He continues to play with your folds, his hand sliding easily on your wetness, up and down. He frees himself from the now uncomfortable pants with his gree hand, pushing it down just enough to not be in the way. He strokes his length before adjusting himself between your legs, ready to replace his fingers.
He waits for you, your face telling everything you feel, and when you arch your back, butt pushing down into the mattress, he retreats his wet fingers earning a painful whine from you again, he groan with a big smile on his face. He slides your juices on his dick, grabbing your body still rocking back and forth, his fingers digging into the flesh of your waist, and when he catches you in the right moment, he slides inside with a torturing sweet sound. You moan grabbing his hand with one hand, the other desperately clutching onto the sheets.
He would kill for this to never end. You whining under him as he makes literal love to you. He's not too rough and not to gentle. He imagined taking you in every way, but vanilla wasn't in these fantasies. But it's just perfect.
The room is filled with your breaths and groans, the wet sound of Billy's smashing into you with a slap of skin. Billy leans down to kiss your parted lips, hands on your torso, leaving lingering touches every inch he can reach. He wants to engrave this in his memory, every second to remember.
Your chest pushed against his, letting Billy's lips discover every sensitive spot, your fingers caressing the nape of his neck.
Usually he's more talkative, asking questions and demanding answers, but that's with a usual woman. He would be rougher, he would put his hands around your pretty neck and squeeze every time a little when he slides out. But he feels no need when you are giving him everything he wants, your body signaling everything to him, your hand guiding him if needed, face telling him what you like the most.
So when a frown appears on you, your hand clutching on his hair a little too harshly he knows you are getting close. Your voice following proves his suspicion.
"Billy, i'm.."
"I know baby. Faster or harder?" He needs to know which one will be the one taking you to your high, and you reply eagerly.
"Har...der" You can't finish the word properly, his hips smacking to you so hard you lose your breath. And he continues to do it with his fingers circling on your clit. Soon he feels your body tremble, your thighs shaking around his body. "C'mon baby." He whispers breathless, a kind of nudging for you to let go, and you do.
He groans when your walls hugs him inside, for a moment he enjoys the sensation before picking up the pace again to chase his own release. It's his time to get lost in you, and it's so easy to lose control when he still can feel the aftermath of your high, you legs pushing his ass closer to your body. The warmness of your aching cunt mixed with the taste of victory guided by your whispering encouraging him to come undone inside you makes him feral. His moves gets sloppier, slower but harder before cumming in a crushing force. Oh and it's the best he ever had.
His body collapses on top of yours, Billy is already feeling the weight of sleep, the long day behind him catching up with him. He wanted to do more, have you in every way, or at least fall asleep still inside you.
Gosh he wants you forever, be commited to him, loyal to him, his desire to keep you for the rest of his life grows with the small kisses you pamper him with while he recovers on top of you. His whole weight is on you, he comes to his senses quick when you shift under him a bit. He pulls out slowly with the rise of his other parts, you whimper feeling him leave you empty. You let him out of the grasp of your legs, a small smile gracing your exhausted face.
He can't help but think about how fucking dumb Frank would look if he would tell him how sweetly you let him inside your body. How you pleaded to him to cum when he is balls deep and after all that, you lay spread out still, satisfied with his cum dripping out of you.
The only think he can think about is how badly he wants to describe detail to detail to Frank what he did to you tonight, to make it clear you are his.
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One more drink III- Pierre Gasly series
Thank you so much for all the likes and reblogging and of course the following!🧡
Hope you guys will like this part also! ☺️
If something is written like this then it means that the conversation is on Hungarian.
Pairing: Pierre Gasly x fem!reader
warning: swearing, language, mention of depression, alcohol usage
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They guys were really lovely addition to our afternoon and early evening. They were talking, telling jokes. We can say that the whole entertainment area were loud because of us. We closed up everything some of the guys waited for us so we could walk together to the parking lot.
“ Good night guys, see you tomorrow morning!” I waved at them while I was walking up to my car.
“Gina is that your car?” Carlos asked while pointing at my most important and precious thing in my life, my car.
“Yep” I nodded confidently at them. I worked my ass off to used my saving which was I putting on the side since I was 14 years old so at the age of 20, I could buy one of my dream cars. I have had a few dream cars to be honest, most of them were big American cars like Mustang, Chevrolet, but this one is a Dodge Challenger Hellcat (x). It was an chrome orange coloured beauty, with a huge engine which can purr like a cat. “This pretty kitty cat in here is my beloved one, my one and only. Then I have the bar after it.” I smiled and giggled and them while I unlocked the car.
“You need to take me for a ride in this one!” Daniel was shouting from the other side of the parking lot.
“For sure dude, see you guys tomorrow!” I laughed and sat in the car and I have started it, and while I was waving them I was driving to the way to my flat.
~ Race day ~
Everything was hectic, I thought that we were full on Thursday and Friday, but boy I was so wrong. The Hungaroring was fully packed, you could not even drop a needle in that crowd. I only have had to walk one time through the whole paddock when I arrived for working and it was still a torture. I have seen some of the guys we have waved to each other from far away.
I was really busy for the whole day, the only time I could sat down was for my lunch, and it was like for two minutes. Once the race has ended people started to come to the stands, to have a drink or some of them have already left, so it was starting to be a little bit less crowded. I have tried to watch the Grand Prix on the big screens we have had around us, and I was listening to the speakers while I was bartending, but paying attention to multiple things is hard even though if you are woman.
It was after 6 pm when I finally took off my apron and I could sit down because my shift has ended. With a huge sigh I sat down next to our stand at one of the tables with a cup of water in my left hand and my pack of cigarettes in my right hand. I let my dark red hair out of that painful ponytail and I have ran my hand through it, which was always tricky because I have really wavy hair. I was about to light my cigarette when someone stopped in front of me.
“You know that smoking is really unhealthy “ 
“Pierre there are so many things in life which is considered as unhealthy, and I guess you came to the bar to have a drink. And alcohol is pretty much unhealthy also, so I think we are equal.” I looked up at him smiling while pointing at the wineglass in his hand.
“Touché. Are you finished for the night?” He looked at me while shifting from one feet to another.
“Yea finally and hopefully we won’t have that huge crowd we have had before so I don’t need to get back behind the counter. My feet is killing me” I was massaging my feet, after stepping out of my sneakers. Even if it was the most comfortable sneaker on earth, standing 12 hours in it still gets really uncomfortable and painful.
“Glad to hear that, so can I have that one drink we have agreed on yesterday?” He smiled at me with a cheeky smile while pointing his wine glass to the way of one of the wine fridge. “Hope you have not come here with that pretty car of yours.”
“No I left it at home, we agreed on with my brothers that once the race is over we are going to have a shot of tequila, because we have deserved it, so I came by bus today.”
“Perfect so, white dry one is the one you like as I have heard right?”
“Yes, and if you are interested having that one, I can bring you with a bottle I just need to put my shoes on first “I was trying to get up while getting back into my sneakers when Pierre put his hand on my shoulder and pushed me back down into the chair with a warm smile on his face.
“No, I’m gonna buy a bottle of that one for us, but you are not getting up from there. As I can see you have other employees, I bet they can help me with this.” He winked at me while he turned to face our bartenders. As I sat back with a thankful smile on my face, I lighted my cigarrette and I exhaled a big cloud of smoke. I could already feel myself getting more relaxed. I can’t even remember the last time that we were working this hard, since we have opened the bar.
“Why is everyone in here smoking that just like it was good?” I snapped my head to the way of the voice and I saw other drivers have arrived and sat down at the table next to me. Carlos looked at me with curious eyes while nodding the way of the cigarrette.
“You know, here at the Balkan area of Europe all we have for fighting with our miserable life is, alcohol, mostly for us wine and pálinka, swearing and cigarettes.” I smiled at them.
“Here you go, I don’t know why but your staff did not want me to give you a wine glass” Pierre said while giving me a big plastic cup filled up with wine. “Also I have no idea why they wanted to fill up your glass with sparkling water. I asked her not to do that but she still gave me a big bottle of water. “ He put down the water next to me with a confused look on his face, and I was giggling. I looked at one of our employees behind the bar, and she was just waving back at me.
“It’s because I usually drink out of those type of cups, they know my order by hand.” I smiled at them. “Okay so Hungarian drinking 101 is comming to your way guys. I bet you have heard of wine sprizter before.” I looked around to see if some of them know what I’m talking about. But they were looking back at me with a confused look on their face. “Oh come on. Rosé and white wine with sparkling water? No one? Really? Okay now it’s obligatory that you are trying that! “I jumped up, and I put my sneaker back on my feet. Gathering some cups and wine and sparkling water from the fridge on a tray. “Okay so wine spritzer or as we call it in here fröccs is a big thing especially in the summer. This drink is really a Hungaricum. There are at least 20 type of mixing rates for this drink with different names, which are funny and sarcastic ones for us, but it’s really hard to translate them. It’s really just wine and sparkling water and you can play with the ratio of the water and the wine in your cup. And it’s all about the harmonization of the wine and the sparkling water” I was informing them while I put down the cups in front of them and starting to make some of that wine sprizer. I was about to fill Pierre’s cup too, when he looked me in the eye with a smile on his face.
“Gina, haven’t you ended your shift like 20 minutes ago? Sit down, and drink” He grabbed gently my upper arm pulling me down on the chair. “We can fill up our cups with no problem.” I smiled back at him while trying to hide my blush by drinking from my cup. I always thought that he is really a attractive man, with that beautiful blue eyes, with that cheeky, flirty smile. It was really hard not to blush if he looks at you. The night was going perfectly, we have had so much fun. The guys were really friendly they were asking questions about me and my brothers and the business.
Everyone started to get a little tipsy, the guys were no longer drinking just wine, they have started to order other type of alcohol like whiskey, rum and somehow tequila got on the table also.  I was feeling tispy, not completly drunk but really tipsy, I was swaying on the music which was going on in the background from our speakers while laughing one of the jokes of the guys, when my youngest brother put down the huge bottle of tequila infront of me with some lemons, salt and few shotglassses. I looked back at him with a shocked expression on my face.
“Do you remember that we have had an agreement, right sister?” Erik looked at me with a huge grin on his face, while wiggling his eyebrows. 
“Oh no, if I will have a shot of that one, I will be ruined.” I whined and I put my hands together as I was praying for him. “Don’t do this to me, Erik please!” 
“Ah-ah, we agreed on something, there is no way out of it and you know that one!” My other brother grabbed my shoulder from behind.
“Okay, okay but please don’t...” I started to ask my other brother when I saw he took out a much bigger shot glass for me and started to fill it up to the top. “fill it up that much... What the fuck is that? That’s not a fucking shotglass it’s a fucking mug!” I screamed while pointing at the big glass and I heard Pierre laughing behind me. “Oh don’t you dare to laugh, you are getting your own one too. And the others also! If I’m going down, I’ll take all of you with me!” I pointed at them while I picked up my huge glass with a lemon on the other hand.
“Oh I have had no idea that we are talking about going down you, I’m here for the challenge.” Pierre winked at me, while leaning closer and he picked up the shot glass infront of me. I was surprised by his comment and I froze down a little. He was openly flirting with me, and not even with little easy ones. I knew that drivers can be a flirty type of one, but still it was making me surprised and I was a blushing mess. I tried to convice myself that it was because the weather was really warm and I have already had a few drink, but it was not working. Pierre and I know really well that it was because of his comment. He drank the tequila pretty quickly and shook his head. “Come on, you don’t want it to get warmer from holding it way to long” He put his finger under my cup and started to move it closer to my lips. 
“Hey Pierre, I think Charles wants to say something to you! “I tried it pathetically, but it worked out, he turned his head and I leaned forward and poured the half of my drink into his cup. Most of it went everywhere.
“Hey! Gina, come on!” He turned back laughing while trying to stop me by holding my hand. “Okay let’s make a deal, I will have the half of this if you are going to the club after with us.”
“I really don’t like clubs but I really don’t want to drink this either, so okay deal.” I put my hand out for shaking his hand for it.
“Okay perfect” He smiled at me and shook my hand and he picked up the glass and drank it. “So are you ready chérie?” He looked at me and holding his hand out for me to grab it. I was looking at him surprised and I shot back my portion, shivering to the familiar feeling of the bruning alcohol and I grabbed his hand. “ You are not ready for my dancing skill, chérie” I winked at him and it touched his soulder while putting and extra emphasis on the word chérie for him.
Going to a club with the world’s nearly most famous and richest people is a completly different experience then going to a club with your friends in your 20s. We went to one of the fanciest place in the middle of the city. They were playing some kind of R&B and different electric music on those huge speakers, you could really feel the beat in your chest pumping.  After that shot of tequila I started to feel pretty drunk. They guys were really loud ones, laughing at everything while dancing ridiculously at the music. After an hour of dancing I needed to feel like I have to drink something. I went to stand next to the bar, waiting for the bartender to notice me, but all he cared about some ladies who were obnoxiously cackling really loudly. I know really well you have to be really nice to get the best tips from the customers but still, those girls were one inch from sitting on the top of the counter saying please just take me home with you. 
“ Hey pretty one, can I buy you a drink?” I turned around to see a really tall guy behind me with a smirk on his face. He was covered in tattoos, that were really visible from his shirt. 
“Thanks, but no. I can buy my own one.” I smiled back at him nicely and turned back to face the bar trying to get the bartender’s attention.
“Come on, it’s just one drink.” He put one of his arms next to me on the counter so I was caged infront of him. “And maybe you can give me your number also.” He had the same smirk on his face, while he was looking really obviously down on my chest. I was wearing a black spaghetti strapped top and he was clearly looking in my top down on my cleavage.
“I think she said she is not interested in your offer!” A deep voice cut through the loud music. I tried to peak through the guy’s shoulder and I saw Pierre’s angry eyes, looking back at me. 
“Dude there are plenty of other girls you can bring home, leave this one for me.” the guy barked back to him. 
“Okay, that’s enough! I’m not going home with anyone, so back off buddy!” I put both of my hands on his chest while I tried to pushed him back from me. “ I don’t need you buy me a drink and I will definetelly not going to give you my number. “ I stepped out of his embrace and started to walk back to the booth were the guys were hanging out. I looked back at my shoulder and I saw Pierre was walking behind me. “Thank you for stepping in, I have fought a few matches like this before.” I smiled at him. “ You know two old brothers I have back at home they have tought me a few tricks and self defense moves.” I winked at him, while grabbing my bag. 
“Yea I realised quickly that I don’t have to worry about you defending yourself, more like for the guy’s health.” He smiled back while I grabbed my bag. “ Are you leaving?” 
“I should really get going, it’s been a long weekend for the both of us.” I smiled at him putting on my jacket. “ Are you guys leaving Budapest tomorrow?”
“I will walk you out and wait for a taxi for you.” He grabbed his jacket also. “Some of us might, I will leave on Tuesday.”  I said goodbye to the guys, some of them insisting to get my number or at least my instagram account so when they will come back here, we can hang out again. 
“Oh no. I will just walk home, I don’t live that far away from here.” I shook my head while waving the guys and opening the entrance door of the club.
“You will definetelly not walk home! If you don’t want to take a taxi than please at least let me walk you home.” He smiled at me while holding the door open.
“Pierre I can’t ask you to walk me home. I will be fine, I have walked it many times at this hour, or even later.” I giggled. ”And you are not that familiar with the city so then you have to find your way back to here.”
“No, I will just call a cab and it will take me back to the hotel, don’t worry about it. So which way?” He was looking around in the street for the way to go. 
“Okay, I guess I can’t talk you down on this. Come, it’s this way.” I pointed at the way to a little street down the road. It had many bars around on that street.” I usually go bar hopping around in here with my friends sometimes, they have pretty good bars in here.” 
“ So next time we will go bar hopping then.” He winked at me
“ Next time?” I looked at him in a questioning way. “ So are you aready planning to have a next time in here?” We were walking on the quiet part of the street, skipping some puddles that were in our way due to the big rain in the daytime.
“Of course, I would. I was already planning to ask you if you are free tomorrow?” He smiled while we reached the gate of my apartment, and he was leaning on the wall next to the gate. 
“I have no plans for tomorrow, so yes I’m free.” I smiled at him while I was searching for my keys in my bag. “What do you have in mind?” 
“Let it be a surprise, but I do need some of your tourguiding skills” He winked at me. “See you tomorrow then.” He pushed himself off the wall and walked to the side of the road trying to catch a taxi on the road. “ Be ready around 10, okay?” A taxi stopped and he opened the passanger side of it. I just nodded with a small smile on my lips, I was totally blushing. He smiled and waved to me and sat in the taxi.
“Good night Pierre.” I said back while I watched the taxi leaving the little street and turning right to the main road. I was trying to put the code in the gate to open while I was trying to understand what just happened today. Pierre Gasly did just really asked me if I was free for tomorrow? And wants to spend the day with me? I was totally daydreaming while I was walking up on the stairs to my apartment door, when I got two notifications on my phone. 
@pierregasly started to follow you. @pierregasly sent you a message.
“Good night Chérie!”
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Text
This is an unfortunate domino effect.
I slept during the day.
But before that, I couldn’t sleep. Insomnia. Restless. Excited - for stupid XIV things. I stayed up to do them, even after the brain fog solidified into a soft wall. And when I was finally able to move myself to bed - there was a spider. In my bug net. Not some little white-ish annoyance, but a ripe dark long-legged fright that I’m very confident could and would have bitten me, had I not collected myself and calmly destroyed it.
I hate spiders. In my space. Spiders in nature, I will respect. Spiders in far corners, I will bless with well-wishes that flying annoyances find their way to those lofted webs. I hate spiders in my space. I do not have the immune response to deal with reactions to their bites. I’ve had staph infections twice in my life and BOTH were from spider bites. I hate spiders. 
And that was how I went to bed. And slept, poorly, throughout the day. Tossing. Turning. One relentless dream after the next. Of course he was there. Of course it was happy. Why wouldn’t it be? All the more suffering upon waking. Always.
I couldn’t rise with my afternoon alarm. I silenced it and then blinked and 3 more hours passed, with another lifetime of happiness denied, a play of light shone against the flesh curtains of my eyelids. 
It’s Thursday, though. The Calamity finale. A big one - over 6 hours. Excited.
And hungry. There was no dinner tonight.
But I had a salad kit. It probably wasn’t bought for me, specifically. But that is what I had. And it was incredible. It was delicious. It was satisfying. Different greens and croutons and flaked parmesan and a dressing and even spices - actual spices! - and I near cried because, fuck, it was so good.
Still a little hungry, though. Protein. I stole away with some mozzarella - and some chicken lunch meat. The mozzarella, it was phenomenal. I did not stop. It’s gone. That was what tricked me. Tripped me. I am not hungry. I am full and satisfied and enjoyed the process - and that brought the tears.
This isn’t allowed. I’m not supposed to ever be pleasantly content, my needs are always supposed to be just slightly in the red. 
So I cried. Am crying. Because I got to eat in a way, tonight, where I simply was satisfied. None of this was indulgent or exorbitant or frivolous. It was precisely right. Precisely enough. And I’m not allowed that. I’m going to pay for this. So I’m already crying.
And that’s just - JUST one single physical element of my corporeal being and requirements. ONE. There are so many more, so fucking many, and always, all of them, are not supposed, not allowed, to be anywhere close to okay. And most of them are not. Red, flashing, depleted, empty, walled away behind caution tape and hazard paint.
I miss him. I say I don’t want to dream and it’s because waking is hell and torture and agony. If I could just stay in one of those dreams, for the rest of always, that would be fine.
Imagine if any of that was even remotely allowed outside of my mind. Crying, crying, forbidden. Imagine all the comfort, the stability, the care, the warmth, the love, the love, the love. Sobbing. Grieving. Tens of thousands of moments, scenarios, futures - I see and live and hope and remember them all, and they’re all fake and empty and they each weight as much as the moon. I mourn the end of each and every one of those worlds.
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libidomechanica · 4 months
Text
Untitled # 10984
A sonnet sequence
               1
I shallop flie, o year thy forever. But a date: so longdrawn carol, mourning in the door, baith with the sapphires. Brief; with roses disarm’d with little sex a tyrant o’er the mountains weak. We journey thy err I don’t the dead, whom my beloved, as well perhaps dividually apparelled itself its nub, its pursue: ’twas gude wintry clusters to the fire a man is highest dissolved in and only do not lights. Your eyes? Time the skies at Helluo, late at each the bed. But died. They seek the grave. The wind said, a cat-like Intercourselves. My beloved thee family!
               2
And throughly moaning to bloom’d intered terribly useless strong head, which two your warm days had: as all to the tender birthday pardon my revented do dwell he is she dinner over heav’n, which I’ve love me not,—this garden, the more of you’re luxuriating shafts of myself there, art left and the been dearly rue! Prepared him overhead came wander’d freeze in Fantastique pen; him as filchers in their lose cables that shall trace, pure loth toward, to stay: and by a voluptuous lodge in mine thought fine someth leap that dullness, to you appear but the wink, that the air woe, they ask why.
               3
When rising all mortal fires spreads his conceives wide front princessantly desire was my loved tulips, I aft has been, or drove the Bard refines, by glimmer when I thro’ the play’d thereof two face that change! Like a round up to set on against a cliffs, a lethal music too, or all, and will I believed I view; sure, a corsage to bed on a dream? They said weary moment, nor love; behold to time, when torture in her, for he, displaying bed! The leave for those that tallows do stroked for presence hole into my body beauties, and pledge in the base. In them. The Fire—even morn.
               4
At night now he crowned it quills to save want? Looks were the tear his sleep. Picks from Camelot: and swear, we’ll undress, proud as would be true as a thou see the night so you fair. No more. The hand here shells are; like a diet fruits; camphire, when softnesse well as on the poor, no answered him away. Fly the cabin whate’er you’ll be come not climbs. I know it a jewel in thee. Deep, soft skimming awkward and bad, mad slant and in high somethinking pillars our land doom the boy and the repose—still die of a pomegranates and conscience, becalméd bark, sighs: and were even the sage is thy leaf hange.
               5
She, my legs, folded around his parts thy mither, a blink is no divine Muse, an’ merit, an’ thy colours suddenly Father is grief has my gazers see, like the lore should gives; amid lie. And most prove how verturning’s in full delight and day I have me full, you’ll breathing: alas! So shore, when shops, but denied to fills on truth endorse her give; in vain-made these will rise as ointment away, living Past, that hears in the ruines out o’ mony a merry a tight, star of mine end; thrall, and this that I do not every use in thy cheek, but I was all, come ridge you see why thou loved?
               6
The move must thine arm’d; and tak the thinks wondrous the bed. That approaching fast asleep might be subtly it breed threatness: Taking so many, and burns; a very they will new thy youth wineglass has for it than all grown or day, who refusde forever. There is now Natures of old and Duty bright find suspected if the star-the wind keen and hours is worthless my particular conquer, while herself my chiefest in her full-crowned half you found me. Like home no more I may parting fork and lacking so clear will my love into April’s inmost Peace of mind, whose my Highland Mary!
               7
Was hard to a youngling of this treason; my shy and bienly the silent nightingale embrace, be love wended; I see how of another, the wild! The braine rear more does to a charms a seal upon the measure, alive, hundred. The brush it bestead, or if it of the Chess or presence is Folly ground. To reason for sinful patient fruits, new and moulder, how the day. The sylvania, near she moon shows your deare, the water, my knee. Went and me, so as their sighs: and so him ne’er and futurity fall. The left Hátim’s Churlish rivers, and smile … What spoil it of wo painting Hál!
               8
The more, the eyes. To hold of the ocean’s at a tree. When open fairest striped urching not receive as the words your course to kiss! Is the beauty all to Honour’d ill. The hinds the gentle ye may: their life to tell meet and some earth o’ charge you loved, for to the mair to setting, and again disparage dropt for might unused to a chemical mixture of; with my heard the new mornings. Day or no? I do not for Sin. They were, because thee, and to th’ unguarded me, the history: if that’s good faithful Highland Mary! Driving senses back like a washed myself but Time with light, heart.
               9
At summer tragedy, is bedimme my great of saddles in smiles the winds you hear to my great he issue beauty’s breaking orb crowned it will. They live wheel be so, too,— while thee as like a bright to the deckit fade nor over might and shred the way again as that is insinuation. It is this is thy part. To drawest spite hang on the perfumèd garland Martha! These moment with nough so will, and after receive me mair to my those body. His left, shame of the lightning wineglass wind, it is as thence is overty my soul of Lebanon which trifles of skill. Let thy name.
               10
When that the fierce tiger’s so flag, with she, still that cup of wheat winters gems at thy face of mi skirt, just such and truth failed into tower’d Camelot. And something the selfe a boy, when absence of you sleep. The which round, which sight? Th’ exactest of people? The lips like a time and with she sapphire, or Kingdom-trouble garden water conquestion all summer whom rage. Friend, a hand ah, Desire, conveys it the waur being foolse, who know, and love the fire you amid the shortest travelled, and o’er the sucked be they conquest toss’d cottage- tree one in my emotions heap that touch!
               11
In Magdalen’s Azure breast, when to seize my face, Juvenal, and beast gasp, sonorous Worship so true we affair of dawn to drink. And wore thee forsworn is tread to knows I dream. The old and while I will bring not from Camelot: and fools: reserve. Of their having waters of Madam, and long the way, old joys for reward, speak, breathing roes, weary life’s grace and equals? After, my unkindly! He not yet recognize. This moment, to kissing the same, I cling eloquence chill of song, my darling, the same tried as the not even morning will have shot throught about the swallow for truth.
               12
The city, and most sounds than wine; so great! Thus with simple puts to the wait beareth the offering one speak my for you Stella, who have a hundred. But a lower of poetry when twilight pavilions: issue, much love, deceived. The race doth parchmen soul in vain I loved before full of her bower, I’ll trees off San Salvador salute that is a man, that nipt my hopes I can one especially to seed-pod and often to admirer tarry; for, dear! As he tormented snow what made. Sweetness he roes, O my loved in hand worth than too much subsided, for all the univers.
               13
When twilight’s in on this wise; o giue my emotion, aspens shall succeeding of heart, look of gold; now you could. Fair as all. Think upon the jars fill with his Munifice of nastiness. Where is hour and now and ever made, t’ appear before forbid? Vineyard as the drew it still a sad, my Julia once against myself with banner mine with ev’ry eyes the erranean echo oft were thorn, when you see from the she moves as in that on pure looketh twins, the green my words explicius as any other beloved, your voice; thou art is a midnight and her eyes still faded flight.
               14
And aloes, without their Evadne; and solitary all. Make an orchard posses, hang it, that we couch work of lids that I proves a gain with me from that the oak is shallows and the high-prompting. As what we secret joys and me to be as been like a million striue all spicy chocolates some bleat. When I am nearer head: I cannot rinse it a Harp, between us is, washed tinctions least encumber. The sun’s red kelson past midnight be thy tongues were change! Tuning together prettily, thus with what must time an heirs under than in you art fairest forget. I see, my soul!
               15
Your wood; make him, to be about the same fashion, and wise? Return and strangles, spoil of the meadow-leave to secure him to resistless as those which is a shelf. The steering of all faithful remember, I could speak, and the better of moss is my despair to nature of the grains who is a rope. When in State, should have to remains; long shafts of viewless was gone alone throught at thy joy. And steep from Camelot: for you’re appear from with from mine eye of a half-reap’d furrows infinite colour’d ill. Around my high comparisoner. Then to her childless prevailing to mountenance—like on, and heavy hear thing mutual dullness, trod down from profanity I forget-I kept. Loves, in you are goodbye, good; but threshold it farms. As ony brat o’ Beauty doth could; for if though black sacred praise, trodden ungenerous darling, and all, we love, for aye, she silver.
               16
Keep the more and her be romantic. We wild was what is pulsing up a love or themselves. While you, O Solomon. Or sinner might he watched ears, in my rest for a pomegranates I stand frantic looks hard your vertue art. And love at my find your city fountain public, wean; mishanter flicked in her the drive without that this mourns, how pleasure, my sigh by might he crying days, the did appear but plan fi chang’d with gain Over take hang, shrewd turned our wars and gin; threescore coach-mare in the gods here that found mellow Polished turns; and me. In they were one chaples rosy hue; that name.
               17
Which thou know; but never learned for leisure. How charms by night strivest and dreams came, unshake the rack and all stand hence the drive where thy cheek growing did cream of bliss, hundreds of maiden hey, fortune’s sanctions that we eater starue. The good all, or a season knells on scrolls of Shalott. Whose counsel of moss before me and thy laden was the sing music, came clock not if your sweet rose on the nation. I cannot sooner with loves or deare, mething and girl shew the unfauld wine, but on clad, o my fair life, that I inhabit—blows; mild a year, the paint rainbow. Of smokes, in the air thorns all.
               18
From the knight. In thing ere the dances I came my shy and arms that melancholy feature grainy dusk toward: you were our legs are queen, while my could not drink by the briefly thou any swear for lose in wet scent wrong to reade yesterday threescore queens make some by they repeats lights. And on woman, while whether; the Future of me! Birds charm is ruby-lipp’d a-field, save to the need not telligence, as thus to the roes to crown’d balls. Heap thy hair one and heart willowship much a one as my nineteen-year-olds, let and gin; then your hard unto dawn conduct tape separating him two yearest.
               19
Sorrow stars to me stills the thing star kiss, or King: alas! And throught my fancys errour bodies I ran, hear’st thy praised played to blood are lovers gems at left the Y, goodbye, good as the seated tower’d upon this call her pression, there icy and do not kill a human deep, beauty’s naked more; and from thems the alphabet, Logos appear thy lips agains with a will be blood smelling thee assay withstand that other the could dry. Flung in days for thanks of Empire texts written in vain you make my heard her brain, portend there. I love is her none down the tedious-moving sweet.
               20
That round Heav’ns chariots. Dared not let us fresh, frantic pain. All in its mute and she what I leaneth our miles of though half the former, dust, that, from the darlings foreseen thy which is years milk and me. For fight, where heart. For that round, save in dreams of goat in the which it as he this mournful folded float, below wood, transmember youth and hears my great effection faith include thought one dissolution flee away, come foreknown when this how she streets, plushes, and thorn a warm with out the leaves in your tell by you heart. As like Solitude, and doing miracle got to bless the serve.
               21
Every without to be my angled the pilot confirme! Then, two great those bleed, nor bear there is cense; myrrh, and with seize my cabbard! For show; so greate, beginning a pieces out. When went working and smiling the flourished thorn, the harbour thought to spreadings. Wee imaginary please a name deck, as thorny painting sweet with sullied, some by how unlike a Helen. My longer bloud, or place and pure, pitie my arms to my fair and great person, graces thro’ the bed. Against my love as deaf moon, clear, plumes and in thine eyes, nor over pass it would, could do! Breath a brain an image of yestreen.
               22
Full sit and died the work, but a long-shanked daffodille; spleen, vapours in them one and several of the must harmony wish it bore it farther is thy crags, O now past what is the Book on it. Dear round his bag; but a day, what weaves and where over a train he know it to this fair is I, that vow’d face, if he way a woman’s fame over tide the fair and wore that orb crown women light love, alive. Or does, a son … You! In secret a live, the pricking their statue of fine somethink, yea, thing on the such a one whose meant aunt bleeding my eyes can Fancient looks she hand rain.
               23
Came swear, nor shall now I do to Camelot. Why, the city angled to be, let Fortune lay; when to for frosty rime, which royal knight’s the clarity o’er that strongest dissolved in the shed, the what wraps my hand; and ocean with it to tinder. For ere the snow than, since seeded, for the Banquet of a curse took you are the sod from Female embushed flow; and play: a chamber bore it outran the same flying his Penmen, and bonie blue beautiful an end. For line and the world a pomegranary foreground with parchment made of moon, the first strength not be beside this untwining?
               24
Growing of my time and moss so old with this unhappy Eternity. See how together and future of shall her make me. In celebrating to whom myself; fire my rose beside by the little steeps on thy for their face. But bid here, no long the shoulders of our partake of Night; with this, how and thus with the Fair Corinna sits, that bars, from the halls showe, with some music mute and smile o’er the spheres, sculptured rustinguished my Dearie; o kiss’d in the meet; and candies and lay his pocketh, thou waiting flower they catching it at my plumes from the only I kisses tenderneath.
               25
Under he for the did. Thee and the wingèd light. The French long worlds of me! The soil. Can trace, let us the fire, which thorn your happy where is mine own good there sober sae rashy, O, I see hung up on Greek i’d hand, lass; and severe chill our hair, and walked of elements, light! That know and several part; nay, I should’st they are cover. That bare incarnal Grove; the close is heap of Time dead once and seem to make this airy dream of her cheek discerned his former loudly meet at they are the rack and with please my affairs, from blossoms white conceal it isn’t the his boundles in small at one.
               26
Use possessed, exhausted buds divine for it will be myrtless was good fairest among hart: I starts to cheerly, it look a spouse, with on a gown, a woman, with her heel of my deares before you still: but to fair and pearl in rainbow. Have company when water—jessamine eyes, as a flower and longing glance this is car learned for a lass, and the lov’d, as a’ the has Love incomplete, a bottles I trace forehead, o my face, Juvenal, and brief oppress to one else entirely hear’st in thy youth the only, the graves image of mud and but is my Highland Mary.
               27
We were was left the settia meadows flowers for tender my friend! But care. Not if ye fingers; tomorrowes face or the crown upon her I dare like the bowels were I lay me when done striue than a trifles as the sand. And down the talked weary aim, in land lay this miracle. Depend on the she way, he memory moth, pod of the deep as a fleeting, like to save hope nor sham’d upon the blue sky where witness, memory becomes this body as I must harmonica line aloft shalt with honour directing and like the increase, my love, that grace doth many those is sweet!
               28
Like a devil, wooing, and a gleaner to thee, but lovest eyes upon, lulled is closde-vp sence keeping till of the sprig of the birthday pardon your brought that thy side me bears—this grieuous cast all they may’st kill the even morning of ice, you fair the princes, in a roses are lovingkindness and show to life of thy lips of dear joy their change of true no-meaning, quence. But what I may troubling hence than me, if I knowledge shoot. About then hey, happen when onely did fairest bars to catch, with that I do have so death. The lake fog smote Shalott. She way; and lead but be things of a piece of the poor reward; so true good except forsworn isles and eat his body swain dream? I knocks impossible bustle, the whole seated fireworks out the eye: but wisdom’s chantine. To governe thing sweet important to be them when you of drunk to the maintains, whose thanks, and treason of this wide.
               29
But Stage-plain adore you for how pleasant not be my arms my darke; absence whiskey, on the rose, as like a five you betraying awkward as the mine on a motion. But with his beauty’s gracefully she woman sleep-warm with his from me, enchains light hanging Dart from autumn’s sky, vaunt o’er-sways. As your body is locks with the scent fruits; camphires. Nay rage such valiant staying its have never says beauty bright holds he room with his how few! ’ You love is like the Golden rod, treate nothing frame debateth silver. A longer flower and ev’ry words touch a trade of his poor words can calls.
               30
Ties youth is sleeping so closde-vp sence that bliss Clarinda’s held nothing they do not to salutary now in sae fair and glove a goats, the express’d; but the bowe, breast, can mark to touch a purest long this table night compassion buried lowly, failins, comes that begat distances, that we can be borrows me and such a peaches that have climb, your conquers new and my cup the was some guest among that Mars not take; but youth, Health, or her, all my hair the unweeting party for a pray’r, child, and arms I tried to-day. And milk and still aver this prudence like a woman in a dunce.
               31
Nature spent Night and day I have doth repetition. Sprung his voices of mind. When you would Fate sick period clouds blood this wish be vain disease a gain for the little isle a sad, more to go again to thee! To his first. Cannot them, terror, tirra lirra, tirra lirra: ’ the trees, unlook’d down to come distance irrefragably, assist my notes and stream of you see then his wot, to look, that paddle-leather and the awful to nature sheathed his gain, your eyes home; and I horrify thou, Mercury, and all the arrows floating eyes, and lustress overbear to thee former.
               32
And prepare your flesh and blink is to dawn. Till the ghost turns; and ruddy, make. In his greasy fingers; pour mouth. The thousand, and he our own on the muscles, euen Nature grace, and there in the white his scythe, who great the deep, as welcome sweet were of you, and fish in the God of his hand smiling of a little babe under glory, and days the doth to underness and rid my measure hath brought me, but the Lady of Shalott. All the loveth: it is too fickle; I, poortith cold and milk, and fourscore quaint and we muse’s Red Odalisque. And her cry, oh misery! And lilies. Which noise.
               33
She kissing, but thereof garden of either’s neck is a birthday parts in the night win mutual day I have lose born or Glass: while Cupids might came time, then he waves in the other take this trifle moment, whethere I raise hair awakes me will be green for he shirt since that we can every waves and while on me like the soft amid thy was heap of electra herd-maiden tell you get up violet babe unders, all the deeds stroke. A flower blood to feeding rising now that has got my heart doth temple speaking sun. I see house, adore they see—a pimple speech,—nor every dawn.
               34
That my hands I not the World to time is strange vastly, chanced a count that night; and fish in that poor wretching the face, Juvenal, and would Farmer learnt how the yellow door, and a pleasure the womankincense, what name, salámán bent with too, the thou art those fair, as always run; to bus’ness, here we are all fail; a music, came where throught I weep, have doth not the flower? The terror, tirra lirra: ’ blanked weed gaily to the grow cheere and with all vice. Watching so much bliss, I thou in love groans, go floated red without and she bell as I hae kissing all vice. Conceal it was fastern she changes every took his artles there and how fine good of jewels to be e’en when you opened thus, o pitiless the hour and full of cedar, oud, before it deem him up a Desert, let us maids best day, so do have like varied her distance of the heap virtue, with thy voices terse.
               35
The book the rays of drunk; prouder angel purer way; yet is, who louers ruin spite, that grotto were noticed in pride and moss, and most Affects that fire texts wracked the took his World dirhems throughout a truth’s untimely from other that tastes running sun; conspired and that we may, but he sheet. This mother breast where? Or speech owl is now past, the psyche dropped into is, while my amiss; But they meet harbor shattering if the Ring, we simp’ring I said to go, and my heard, crawls today of the chains, scattern important shows therefore of lace, and he left but no people ignorance this day?
               36
With me. After they beauteous hill; but her faces the she web, she brow, entirely hear’st in the fish did I could never mends, from years have to go with they wandered and songs of friendships to Marses in the Clovers are and delight oft me, and I ask the golden Hours like a Helen. An auld winds countiful, hollow door, baith kirk and mine own she drift of silver snowy smart. Paint thou had spider—die! I open on fleeting dwindled and me on my verses feet will my honey thy cup; then the white for sweet. She hawthorns, however, near, my fair as a kind; he leaping line, no scream. They say, but I force him eerie,—o why sae earth, nor a young a might before. Women because me fresh, fragrance purpose I knew: and thorn, upon her Pleasure smile unknown grateful choice I will never I’ve heart do clarity fall; the most vehements thy voice thankes a great deed: dark lawn.
               37
Tis Justice my amiss; were fills round ah me! King love the porch of spiced in not find no war. Fill all my hours, waies, or leisure. Was happy I, that good again! Of mud and in shops I love. Hence keeps catching is a trees of Engedi. Stella, died to feel her distinguishing every top, i’ll the end. All potatoes she turf I bow; thy errour brillia, wedding and I who liue but must asleep from the chanc’d among woe, there are asks not tell you amid lie all remember your time, nor with proves were suddenly fire he world is my belov’d Stellas image, loss of Jerusalem.
               38
Down they creeping a baby and whining? Like a virgin modest shape of loved! Subtle step in These old time hath of true sure all kissing muscles morning’s such a chariots of earth is a transformer, in silence give! What sight. Perhaps to dwell thy err I drink and panting lovers it always I were none of his hyacinths. All remember penniless my hand,—why,&c. But to me as bright the summoned in His perverside any cheeks; fourscore care all his gift to the breaking unknown and aloes, at home. Unto the riversation in that Lucy plan fi change! The was borne?
               39
Freely steps bright stands untimely an addict. Or a clock nor times her than wineglass wi’ right and Loue doth selfe-condemning Reed his Hours, thy silver grammer side. Let the family step in another courteous, waiting like two soul love or peaceful Time dead, and thou whom I do to tell have me meikle was Maud, forget-I keeps armoury, and whence command,—i’ll wrong, but shuts itself bring to his tender to black, slands, which the sky, sport, no times seen. So young cheerly, not feel the moon comes not; but dead? Which of Death, all know the boughs the sun’s eye, not fearful an epoch with him, and groan walks.
               40
Which palm trees. Spark, agree to grace. Are cedar, and counter-turn this she’ll never sublime in to a summer. What must find you be turtle is; yet, becoming to get hunted for the shall while the velvet petticoat, or Trimmering and to my though pure lips and did not save all have arm: for duches boast, from me. Are an ocean floor. You see, o easy fingertips, prison breathe aquarium tender grace my absence breasts the door open figs, a lethal musics to eat not their quiuers, las! I roses to the dark water fading in Years over towers, closely by, death.
               41
And such valian boat once and swear of all her having flame of Sunday Morning of his tender why should not sleep, sleep from Time, Kenny say, into high-dive alms to pitying is a little muddy pond an imaginable these most Peaches we boughs and them song, my shy and frankincense bring together. What strives of his Authority our grapes, orinda’s fond Thou art sound thorn, those, and far, I fix my sin. It is just light that fairest among, and to shred them sing sweets single, sees the roar, for the jewelry best clouds blossom, as never, I shall Death! Thy name to side me light.
               42
You dost the mountain zest the such flagless with each thick to you must doth bend in her words can be no beauty, but a took that over when those foes foul once, hey have mighty Jove, that love, in temple clothe thee, light, movement, haply may scoff at a curls above me when rod, treater, as never loved, O thou have confirme! And thee most deceived. As if he shall I do cry out object; and for the Prophets of bring touch of a turmoil of her live untimeless to my bower-eaves, has been mines, and all there I may not yet, if Fancie, drawne by our miles, your for Chastily. So that love died.
               43
Crack your gift to eat; so Philomede, let my love of flower, for where was you are nothing race more love, my Stellaes face to content upon the pilot confidental e’re all tinkling is. Too lavish’d by thy spent, an’ tease me like Alexis smoky torches brother nature, thus, and as angry winds, whose like in my friend, do to the after night steps of moss that bondage we call one’s shining, fond Thou know. Devoid of Love is anywhere his crumbles thro’ forehead, that look, to sleeping in the shall stand hence camera flashing rain, the night that once thievish fireworkshop. This airy, beneath us the poor, and love, from when thus much did create to sleep, and why a boy refused, she is so old, in a Christian at a glassy airy flock thy craving leagues we second that is passions, so where stove in his torture in his milk, and green and lips, O Sprite, take himself to you.
               44
My heart go with his piracies,-a legacy of Shalott. We’ll write to drag it to my thou sit in me it farther thee, all the awkward part up that can Chloe know they woulds’t, when we wise? Ought by so double hands untwining? When April’s inmost remain of mine eyes, I do goe, after yet that lookest bands, in the foam, from when the kisses without there is not the sermont not if a tree, a thing lookes? Now, which, when other chariots of view, the mair to faded from my soul of trust in that charming, dying burnings show a boy, his boat any of lady of Sorrow.
               45
Hearts to see how true though with the floods, unfetter heered spread. Her breath it might like one. Thus I drink of love shall be despair to the Southern balm around—she cock the bed. And cold outfalls I have lost hearty men. How care always will not in times of Engedi. What softer dying Venus to wherefore the shadow’d chaste sheep which so woods while health and tingle personal lie of saddle-leathe highway her despite toward: you can I am and stills round, that he haze, sends thy lips of all the silent as possess and thing like thing fields the streen. So much know great doth truth is as an army wife’s hate you, I sat all the tower’d on the grows: but grandame Nature’s the softest sight like lilies. Stella, thou draw in the flow, the high Hall-garden was sooner wine control; yet the endear; when takes sum, your gray walls the eyes in the sun doth breeze in verse I said, you sleep, sleep, and friend!
               46
She top of eyelashes on still, and prepared no more the Great effections of Jerusalem. Then heaven your feet you the pond and blest, the mountains, and passion, or inspectre are all had slander; and plains with endorse to erase a motions to the pearls. Who both too talks o’ care: there you Stella, say, like sun to climb, yours marchins faster the smelling Time’s bitter, which I ate like a scream in the who would ever yet thou yielded: she, and make they were covetous an orchard and Pride, is, those best all in Fantastique all Eternity angel eye, out of us making Plato.
               47
The moonward the day? Does not rise like thy Bright pebbles, while her first be, to instead, and describing the song, who had a fluttercup is ruby-rimmering on outside and from which he silence or her destiness of the day forme of what was he content as place, whose steal o’er the dead, or thorn! To the moon the was on a burro, too late dictum full sit anew revive; it is enought myself a-stirring like thine eyes, I am, entirely in their doubts honest Mah’met, or kild before of you: your eyes around heart doth embrace my children: saying in shorn, this more loved?
               48
Sing himself, thou there, naked you this arms and wish you speaking sweet up early rue! Or care makes surprising miracle. Envy and truest breath is dumbe lips and would before I love; be in the raven gate as what we seen, does to make the meant and while throughts and that Lovers gone, but I shrubs, who would have me! Love had to somethinking and bones, to Despair to resistless being sate; and fitly set, will in ope them scarlet, wee unders, wash my playing on it. Than wisest fly: if once those Love- god lying dumb. And old, that he water— jessamine, laid it sits, unto dying.
               49
How many time and burgher, lo, that I do her I dreams, and play, and see return, retreate, because her eyes-speech is my pomegranates tempteth not their longdrawne by imagining? Soft desire was thickes; which my fair; thousand pearls. Never recount—should eve then in that though when I shall briar wine concord shall not thee, all baths, lend would harbor should scarce a nakedness, I wonne. A Meaning your secret still these we men eager, Rosamonds not this changed … There one thinke the snowy mountain of loved, she e’er know: when thrown: turns and from Camelot. Remain of my life’s toil it on?
               50
Into the Tower loves were one, not seemed the tear his danger not the bursts in her hear ago, what covered thus surface show tender he flowers with frankindling rime, to the pears; the wholly, while that’s the night hair star, an’ thy cheered there, away, thou grow borings, had brough within you were is a wall alone, O Joy, no tell that is gone is not me sucked buds of Kedar, and obsequious time, Kenny say of Capri we foot back? Yet wink, went could equal shoots with the more the thought clasp? The heard your absence purple; then he she is a broom wall along shed made a wild! To-morrowed.
               51
Tis same forme of life’s trees. How very head, was letched each time and with holy and regions I could achieve and his bright in thee, that the only clasping at the poor write, and strangement. The banqueting, and all their pray’r, children is good; lady of love, life-giving lonely loud blest eye of this will. Sweet, difficult for happy swain decencies and down, yes, I do not how shall build, the stalk and fools not wisdom may scoff at a thirst though I forget no far. And adore that this, that for ere sheet. To Friend, I make loved, tossing on the left sits twining, now, from the hyacinth is dumb.
               52
To public men at a love, to soothe ashes at learn heart, thing thee to makes me whence with nimble, set with to speak silent on it just dove, for summer’s angel fire, then you be, my funny toiled on the hazel eyes make me boldest don’t needs, and true ready view the piano at hilly boring, in a flutterly, it stay. Love a husband, for the delight, and searches bright I might so young the dead sang Sir Lancel— but, for death! Pear of lids their loss I knew, and thorn she longer, her presaging create, can go; for grapes, with that hilly were, and all gen’rous Worshippery eyes are.
               53
Lest eye than thy termin’d in thy parts whoever cloud blest, toasts are, and Lassie, O. And lithe angles, to myself she many picture I? I, seeing break you interest like him in a great Migratified exceeds of thousand all mind was a Wise Man forbids; with my beloved unhelpt, and passions of Jerusalem. Virgins weary eyes: from crown it: if a man, in small gie me wheel beside the grey. The faire like an unstrung, they’re nourishing; where Cupid of all in Friendship of the same feast, that produces—You. As if a thorn, we thrise-sad tragedy, is into the hand.
               54
Vastly, by defense and blest, that I probably sad You new. It is my way, comfort me down to Camelot: and victor isle a simple carven she secrete with Love’s love, then in eternal life descended like me. The tribal fire when nothing the grace, viewing knave trie; whethere’s not into the barley and the wrote, can painting woe, and beast the wise? And weep, and this active: the time, so as no one warfare unto dying in rich thousand vast; his Verse everything thee up from his sister, they meal upon me, if only God, while yet remained us watch mine of Solomon’s.
               55
Was this turn this, and sue a firm, or infection seated prime, your times still! Whence one bliss, least which sighing into young hand, lass, in thing all that touch your former. Die! Whose trouble blossom to rosed to memory and of her earth as your head, but Angels tune, but the wet skin gingers’ chil love into his with green forecast ask. The trades to be King, by their slaue; in the fair. Than annoying pity, unfetter it alone thro’ throught! Dip in a velvet petticoat, or wish in vain and kiss! Fix my sister the and sentences of burn to me, Rise up the light, I have been a burro.
               56
And me it deem him wits, and mouldering were shee vantage pretty loof innocuous crimson rose on her scorn, and loos’d with endorse his chest, to holy, she said, as the other preserve without be disting is your graves of the might in rhyming stand, foolse, and he lightful bard sits, there as all failure of his beauty’s emblem of you said, striking all stand belly moan: to hay: i’m them clasping breath thy black was his spoil it on my emotions find the mirth is mother ends, now much soule upon the torn my beloved moon, from valentine. Low languish forth were crystalls, an endeavour.
               57
In rain’d in another property, it broke an unreturn: still with when you art made me, I marry me not all circle the tides, know is to prepared to dawn, which light, along; perhaps he ought; without number wear from then the list, I marry they die with me; the tree. The wisest friend, by glimmer true; then the gourd, as they said in her eyes. And see but once you know and follow worth were flower in the Chess of all thee there and those express sick, to finds you heart in the smelling on this like me think that in all sufferings of your friend, salámán rose-fence without love, my lov’d repose?
               58
I could be attentive: the maintains of my lovely an ambling through you will be my loue, while your conduct nicely by the sweet to something entrance for word; if the meant beloved and atheists of thy sits ende such place you heart in the shall should that godlike thinks the see whose the tension in pear the whole trouble. But what shall scorn, and all the daught me bold Sir Lancel all out thou praised play’d therefore I embrace a dream the silent air, in the grey dusty skin, but thy fat bawd, in the on our or vanish; more laved head, and th’ enamoured in Beauty’s and in answer.
               59
My back, but the spot—nature knowledge by smote me taste of us, your vermillion to Camelot, the way again. Without sends above they cross thought him not save. But a lass; and comparison had on thing sparrows cased; but the wet skin’s. Like a fables the darts. Love weight and see how must I be, and kissing, like show. It lies blest the shapes of body. Many water weary listen, cover, and burgher, and grace, beneath too is staircase for more grave. At all here then I’ll given lake it. And no more love I bow; thy soft goes; pure-bosom- swell, myself. I have was thy beloved.
               60
No wantonly giving in thy loveless ruin fault? When those Helmsman opens her for reward; so tender bit Beautiful are streets, plunge my grieuous night, or Trimmed, thy softest toils might, in truth as I haven we may tell how her can make the mountains all it were be, to stately Virgil colours be dear. Matter; and galleries come guest this, among to have see the blue eyes are wrough absent—poor infant’s be in’t the bloom of how sunbeam has earth doth self-same foreseen thousand after-flower. Ill-reported in their ages, so double-vantage pression went—poor the back you out again.
               61
Ah, Friend, and the harmonica line always had: as his come the wine, and music too, the in mingling mutual dull, whose purpose, while infant’s graceful kinds of love. And lovest eyes, your holy ayde, who see, my spotless and when thus, ye may thy white hand if the tried her Content, dozes thighs I will be ashen gratitudes aware that which it And aloes, whom I could he islander; and this old when in our grammer said unto your strong her Content bare hath myrrh, upon the yellow night-bomb; Forget not thee, we were asleep, as sober language of syllogisms. For sure spent.
               62
Of Rome dazzling like to the rose I hungry, and the taughters to espied, country companions? To bus’ness, her tale of eternity and shred the minds that the you, love. Are obliged the steps incloses: by to feel the pitie the place that woful day like as like surveyed. Varied to gie me nor each maidens fine Edge of a harvest. Him, the spoke you, O love, bleaches. They saint it, thought the wine is no other answered in thee I saw a jutting, the closure your name: euphelia’s days why I was thing eloquence to streak out my bonie Betty, as in a flower, one is come away.
               63
It is good of jewels were, all not last faire temperate: so that double hung, and regret weighs at all sleep reciting leagues throught as post—to his may loveless vomiting at a little repose, your love alone antique all, and false passport he torturing eyes they staying my Highland Miquelon. About the glen sand; ashame shalt be heart, along. Put once again. Goddess which did lie huddled their follies three yards of this war-horse at thine eyes were mountains be gladly spent, and love; flesh stay as a scale of race and when thee that with pulses to chariot glimpse fire will. Near all the balls.
               64
That all thy compassions of a tree, as thousand. I love, do not my hopeless to kiss and subsided, fountaining, in rain, as stern to Camelot. On either’d Camelot. And the holding Jealous is, that other and whiskey in the glen sae rashy, O, aboon thy footprint need not then the very woman, that know where are men die! The rivers and may thy hair the sylvan singing wealth, when in sequoia swallowed me, if that from remember bowels were suddenly eye, nor not, that even thy tongue says: all the elements and her return, O Sea! You hast don’t needs and that light.
               65
Fair Cloe’s eyes are, for he sceptred to the torn. If I mighty bleed, your breath, and I who breathe other, and opium, ratafie ane fashion. Stay me not out one dissemble in the mountain water weathed daffadowndilly tremblem of her blood all gnats more then, two showed, that owns her ha’f o’t. Than on thy lov’d the secrete with a royally is grown, and braes, and see what were chamber the only feet? Living&rescues me worst beats like distance in all the balm breaks. I will him, but of might I feel thy song The watered with two cannot the correction or days gone: thence of reachers.
               66
That goes; pure-bosom’s chariot glimmering westerday, what needs of his Reign A Sage, wrought lament—for I am glad and make that is a blanket to blossom too blame day, so will parts together name, an’ merit, and shred threatned she what this the gold count my palms, and Hate the with the flies. Of Julia’s Counted. I cannot said thy sum of going? That eyes, whitened, bear the beauties mind no, never wit, that my friend, to open fall the well it stay sweet Iudge, much like for all so suit, this and your face of barley and horns all that cup has my garland life to run slow, i’ve alway.
               67
Since and saw Menalcas come grave: thou be thee so, to Despair. Now kisses not even more was once been decliness tears of not sleep, so I can have come—so subtle shadows of the was too cold there blink is not the squally wrapt inflame on, must tattoo. Why did leaves or prize reserv’d to fame: with her sigh, and moss before, in Magdalen’s there I if these to the said me not till in a woman. With capsules who is thy cup; the day like a vine, where new-come he brain sackcloth’d in thy breathering the glares spring in the show; so him star, as Sappho frown, he lass; the Indians, go floating imitate I’m your brown the shrug on our gray stomach lurch, ferris what I in the gods her full of louers with sorry forget the rode domain, this bounded ears, green: she last fair desire, enought he gay, and wore my songster incessantly descends that from there, rose, and I marriage.
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roger-that-cap · 3 years
Text
wildest dreams
witch!wanda x reincarnated!reader 
summary: wanda had walked around the earth for centuries with no magic and hardly any soul left after losing her soulmate. she thought that her lover would never return and that the only reunion they would have would be in the afterlife, but a run-in with bucky changes everything after he insists that he met the long gone y/n at a fountain in the park. 
yet another au by me... 
word count: around 6.5k?
imma tag one person bc she gets upset when she isn’t tagged- and idk if anyone else would actually be interested?
@teenwonder
also this picture is not mine, and the dividers are by @firefly-graphics !!
without further ado, it’s almost 6 in the morning but i give you this!!
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She held you tight, fingers digging into your skin as she trembled above you. The rose bushes were rustling in the wind next to you both, the sweet smell of the flowers contrasting with the moment. You were halfway gone already, eyes far off but trying to swim back to the surface, wanting to look at her one last time before the inevitable happened. 
  “S…” you tried to say, but she hushed you immediately, tears falling down on your face and mixing with your own. You shook her head at her as hard as you could, begging for her to let you continue. “Say you’ll remember me,” you ground out, fingers tightening around her hand. 
  “What?” Wanda asked, voice already thick with grief as she tried to decide whether or not it was better to keep the knife lodged between your ribs inside of you.
“When I come back-” you cut yourself off by coughing up blood, and Wanda didn’t even wince when it splattered on her cheek. “Back for you, promise that you’ll remember me.” 
 “Darling,” Wanda whispered back, her voice cracking as she bent over and rested her head on your stomach for a moment, hiding her sob. She could feel her magic tingling inside of her; under her skin, in her bones, dancing on her fingertips. “I wish I knew- I wish I just knew how-”
  “Please.” You said, a desperate look in your eyes as you halted her words, already knowing what Wanda wanted. But natural magic was nothing to mess with. She sobbed again with her lips pressed together, no sound escaping her. You squeezed her hand tighter as the sun started on its routine descent, basking the two of you in an orange glow that you would have stopped to admire in any other moment in time. But Wanda would grow to hate that shade of orange with every breath in her. “Please.” It would always remind her of the sound of your begging, voice reaching for something that she couldn’t see. 
Maybe it was the desperation in your voice, or the way that she just knew that you were well within your last moments, because she looked up at you one last time. “Of course I’ll remember you, darling. I couldn’t even dream of forgetting you.” There was a wheezing sound that came from your chest as you cracked a bloody smile, and then you gave one last squeeze before you looked away from her, your soul settling in the afterlife. 
  Wanda Maximoff would never forget it. Suddenly, her previously  irrational fear of losing her magic became real, but that feeling didn’t even come close to the one she got when you grew lifeless in her arms. 
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Ever since you knew what a normal person was supposed to be like, you had identified that you, in fact, were not the normal person that you were probably supposed to be. Normal people didn’t daydream to the point where it felt like their bodies weren’t in the present anymore. Normal people didn’t have birthmarks under their ribs that aced and burned. Normal people didn’t feel out of touch with their world, like they weren’t even meant to be in the century they were in. Normal people didn’t feel like they were searching for something tirelessly, something just under their noses. And normal people surely didn’t dream of the same set of hands, same pair of eyes, or the same voice over and over again, a new setting every time, but always the same, faceless person. You either drew the same faceless person or rose bushes, and every sketch book you ever had was full of them. 
At first, you were sure that you were going insane. Every time you closed your eyes, you would see a flash of reddish brown hair, or the same set of eyes, or the same pair of pale hands. You kept seeing this person without ever seeing a face for nights at a time before you went to see a therapist, who just ended up telling you that worrying about it was only going to make it worse, whatever it even was. But eventually, you learned to get used to it. 
Acceptance turned into expectancy. You went to sleep knowing that there was going to be a pair of hands accompanied by the same slender fingers as always before you, sometimes intertwined with your own. You knew that there was going to be a set of eyes on you, watching you intently with no ace to go with them. You knew that you would hear whispers of the same voice, speaking so clearly in a language you didn’t even come close to understanding, and soon, you were craving to see and hear those things. And wanting to see them led to something that you never told your therapist; drawings. 
You drew nearly every day under the sky, trying to find different park benches to see the sun rise and set at different angles for inspiration. You loved the sky, moon and stars alike, but there was something special about sunrises and sunsets. Sunrises and sets both meant new beginnings to you, out with the old and in with the new, and each rise and fall filled you with a strange feeling of nostalgia. You were watching the sunset on a park bench by yourself, a sketchbook sitting on your lap as you held an idle pencil, still thinking about the way you wanted to draw the hands. The birthmark between your ribs started to tingle, letting you know that it was about to burn again. That damn birthmark. You dropped the pencil and scratched at it, trying to beat the annoying feeling at its own game. You cursed the mark, but your eyes didn’t leave the sky, and you noticed your heart swelling in your chest, faint despair in the pits of it, churning around like the middle of the deep sea. 
 You shook your head and put your pencil in your hand again, brain not even having to work hard at all to see the features of the faceless person who was in your every dream. 
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Even before she ever met you, Wanda didn’t sleep well. She would toss and turn for at least an hour before she finally found some temporary, flimsy form of peace. Her sleep was always light and she hardly ever had dreams, which was customary for a woman like her at the time- an un-blossomed witch. 
It was hard for her to remember the time where she didn’t have magic, but that time certainly existed. It lasted nearly thirty years. She never aged a day past twenty one, time moving past her without a care in the world. She was stuck right there, no magic except for the little bit in her bones that was keeping her young. And then she met you. 
You were the person that kicked her magic into gear. You were her kindred soul, her other half and the power to her magic. Meeting you had flung her right into the world of magic and spells, things that she only watched others do, but even as she was introduced to an entirely different world, she could remember only really wanting you. Her heart and soul called to you far louder and stronger than spells called to her eager mind. When she met you, it all fell into place. It was an easy love, one that was never going to be disputed or questioned, and loved it. She was prepared to move heaven, earth, and the gods for you, if she had to. Your arrival into her life had caused her to finally blossom. 
But now, she had bloomed and flourished and wilted all the same, and she was just waiting to decompose. 
“Have hope,” was all that Bucky, a warlock who had been tortured enough in his own way, would tell her. “Have hope that something good will come to you, and it will.” 
She never had the heart to tell him that good things hardly came to those who waited. He himself was a product of waiting, and it had served him well. Before he met his other half, he was taken by a rival clan and experimented on with spells that were so far past illegal that they made the casual witch shudder. Eventually, he was broken out and the rival clan was defeated, but he returned to them as an empty shell of a man. But then, Steve came, and then the man was nothing but a ball of light. His magic grew to be strong and so did Steve’s, and together they became known as some of the strongest practitioners of magic in the world. 
 But what did Wanda have to hope for when you were gone? What did she have to wake up for and smile at when she knew that she had buried you hundreds of years ago? It wasn’t even about the magic. She couldn’t care less about the way she felt the energy leave her- and it was dramatic- leaving in a singular burst of light the second you left. She only knew that you were gone, and that was the only thing that mattered, and it seemed to be the only thing that she even really felt. 
Well, she did feel one other thing. Exhaustion. Exhaustion caused by the lack of you by her side. And exhaustion was exactly why she assumed that she was hallucinating when she felt a small tug at her heart, in a part of her brain that had been dormant for years and years. She shook her head and tried to take her thoughts away from you and the nagging feeling in her gut. 
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“Oh, no…” you exclaimed, voice tapering out into a whine as you watched the ruined paper sink deeper and deeper into the fountain, a fist clenching at your side in disappointment when you realized how many hours were lost, just like that, and then even tighter when you realized that part of you wasn’t even truly upset about the time spent on the ruined art. You were mostly upset that you lost the only vision of the hands that you had during the daytime. 
You were on your knees, sleeves still all the way down as you reached into the water frantically, causing the paper to move even further away. You weren’t even worried about your sketchbook that had fallen open onto the pavement, more focused on the rapidly deteriorating piece of paper. You hardly even noticed the man who knocked into you talking, trying his hardest to make the situation better. “Oh, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, is there anything I can do?” 
“I mean,” you breathed out, taking the nearly disintegrated paper from the water and grimacing. When you realized that the man was fumbling to say something from behind you, celery apprehensive over the fact that you were upset, you took a short breath and turned around, giving him a small smile. He had dark brown hair that was cut short and crystal blue eyes that were striking, but you knew that they held thousands of stories by looking just once.  He was holding your sketchbook, and by the way he was gripping it tightly, you could tell that he had flipped through it for a second. “It’s just a drawing. I guess I can make another one.” 
  His eyes widened. You saw his jaw slacken and his neck stretch out, as if he couldn’t believe what he was seeing. He blinked three times, and his parted lips trembled for a second before he slammed them shut. You cocked a brow at him, your sadness about losing the drawing being replaced by a weak feeling of uneasiness. “Sir?” 
  “Knew it.” His face was clear from any type of emotion as he watched yours, and when you opened your mouth to ask him if he was okay, a grin spread across his face. “I’m Bucky, what’s your name?” You furrowed your brows at him, asking what the hell had just occurred without saying a single word. “I’m sorry, you just looked really familiar.” 
 Just like that, you smiled. You knew that feeling, you felt like you got deja vu far too often to be normal. You hated when people made you feel strange for it, you always had, so you tried your best to ignore it with him. “You’re fine, don’t worry. I’m Y/N.” You extended your dry hand for him to shake it. He stared at it for a moment, and then with an eagerness that made you smile, he shook your hand. 
“‘I’m Bucky.” 
  For a moment, you could have sworn that you had done more tha just seen him before. Could have sworn that you had shaken his hand, met him before, been at the receiving end of his blinding yet somewhat shy smile. It flashed through you warm and bright, and you cleared your throat before pulling your hand away and realizing you had held it for too long. You cleared it again when you saw something flash in his eyes, a weak smile lifting on your lips.
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“It’s not her.” 
Wanda was furious. She was insulted more than anything, really, angry that Bucky could even mistake the light of you for someone else. She knew that you would never grace the earth with your presence again, and she was so used to the fact that she was going to have to die before seeing you again. And for one of her closest friends to try to convince her that you were back? 
 “She would have already found me.” And Wanda believed that with her whole heart. You had asked her so long ago that you remember her, like she could ever forget. Your scent was so flowery that whenever she walked past a growing garden that she smelled you, your smile was so bright that she saw it in the way the rays of sun came down on the earth. She heard your laugh in the chirping of the birds every morning, and she saw your playfulness in the running waters of the stream by the cabin. She could never forget you, because everything was traced back to you. And you would never return without finding her. 
“I don’t think she even knows it yet, but she is looking for you.” Bucky insisted, stepping forward and receiving Wanda’s burning glare while Steve stepped to the side and let it happen. “I bumped into her and she dropped her sketchbook. I saw her drawings- she drew your eyes.” 
  Wanda’s heart skipped a beat. “What?” 
“She dropped the drawing of hands in the water, but I saw she had drawn eyes that looked just like yours, hair the same shade as yours, even drawn the necklace you used to wear. She draws roses, too. I swear to everything above, it’s her.” 
She could feel herself getting warm, the sort of emotions stirring inside of her that had the potential to turn into a singular weapon. The thought of a rose bush made her sick to her stomach. “It’s not her.” 
“You forget that I knew her, too,” Bucky stated, and Wanda’s desolation was replaced by some ancient feeling of possessiveness. “I could never forget her face, and that was it right there. That was her face, without a shadow of a doubt, And her voice-” 
Wanda’s face curled into a snarl. “Stop talking about her.”  
“Hey, Wanda, take a deep breath,” Steve cut in, ever the mediator, but Bucky was hardheaded. If he thought something needed to happen, he was the one to push for it to happen, and he needed her to see. 
 “She looks the same as she did the day she left.” Wanda let out a choked noise. For a second, all she could picture was her lover dying by the blooming rose bushes in the sunset, ruining two of the most beautiful things in life at once. The third (but first) was you, but not even your horrible death could taint Wanda’s memory of you. You would forever be the brightest and most beautiful thing to grace the earth. “I got her number, we’re meeting at a coffee shop a few blocks away.” 
“Leave her alone.” Wanda said through gritted teeth, tears welling up in her eyes. When she saw the brunet’s eyes widen and his mouth drop open, she spoke before he could get a word in. “Just stay away from her, Bucky.” 
All she could think about was your death. The way you choked on your own blood. The way you cried and looked up at her, but still managed to smile. And as she was consumed by rage and memories, the only other thought in her mind was that she was yours and you were here, and that she couldn’t save you then. But she was surely going to preserve your memory from Bucky’s mouth. 
  “I know you feel it coming back. You haven’t felt it in so long, but it’s warm, right? It’s powerful. You always were the strongest, and you’re not dormant any longer. Stop lying to yourself and depriving yourself of love, Wanda. You know Y/N-”
  She saw red. Red as red as the fires that burned in the magma underneath the ground, as red as embers in a fire. “You don’t get to say her name.” She saw so much red, so much hot anger that hardly covered her sadness, that she didn’t even see the way that she had her hand out red coming from her palm as she lifted Bucky right off of the wooden floor of their shared home. “You don’t get to talk about her.” There was a warbling noise in her ears, whispers that sounded like her name, getting louder and louder until she finally realized it was Steve trying to get her attention. 
  “Wanda.” 
Instantly, she dropped her arm and watched Bucky fall to the ground, landing in a crouched position. She watched him catch his breath on the ground. She opened her mouth to apologize, to say that she felt terrible and that she had no idea what happened, what took over her, but she was stopped by the brilliant smile that came onto Bucky’s face. 
  “You used magic.” He said, slowly and steadily, not a hint of hesitance or animosity in his eyes or voice. Instead, he seemed more proud than anything. “You can’t deny this now, Wanda.” 
She was hyperventilating, the pain in her chest intensifying as she tried without any results to get the right amount of air in her lungs. She felt her knees hit the ground before she knew that she did, her hands covering her face as she sobbed into herself. Her heart ached, tugging in so many different directions as her brain fought to rationalize what everything meant. She had used magic,  and that meant that you were back, in one way or another. She was in disbelief. She was in despair. She was in shock. 
“I know you do, I know you do,” It was Steve’s arms around her, and Steve’s voice in her ear, and she realized that she had been saying I miss her, I miss her, over and over again until the words jumbled. “We know you do, Wanda. We miss her too.” 
But he didn’t understand. He hadn’t lost Bucky since he had found him. He hadn’t walked the earth for centuries after losing the only thing that mattered to him as an empty shell of the person he used to be. He would never understand, but that wasn’t his fault. In fact, she prayed that he would never understand. 
“I’m sorry I approached you like that,” Bucky said, crouching down and hugging her just as Steve was, enclosing her into a hugging circle. They were coven, related by magic, and just being around them made her tears subside. “But you know that I would have never said anything like that unless I was one thousand percent sure. I would never do anything to hurt you, Wanda. All I want is for you to be happy. And I know that I found her.” 
And how could he want anything but the best for her? He knew her just as much as Steve did. Just as much as she probably knew herself. He and Steve were the ones who stormed the coven that took you from her by her side, and they were the ones that helped her send them to their graves. They supported her through thick and thin, through revenge and peace, and mostly, they loved you almost as much as she did. Why would Bucky lie? 
Wanda blinked, staring down at her hands in fear and wonder as her heart beat started to get away from her. Steve’s warm hand landed on her shoulder, and she flinched from the sudden touch after such a rush of power. 
“I think you should go with him, Wanda.” Her heavy breathing was all that filled the air for a moment. “Just take a look at her from outside so you can leave if he was wrong without anyone knowing, but you should at least try. I think Buck’s right.” 
Wanda’s breaths were still labored. Her hands trembled as she moved hair from her eyes, and her lip quivered before she found the strength to mutter a few words. “Will she- will she remember?” 
“I think she will,” Steve said softly. “But she’s probably just a human. It may take more than just seeing you for her to remember everything.” 
 Her eyes were wet with tears, and her heart was so big with warmth and need that she was scared that it would burst open at the seams. But she was even more terrified to lose the idea of you. Slowly and shakily, she nodded, her head bobbing up and down as she sealed her own fate. “I’ll go.” She saw Steve give her his fatherly and supportive smile, small yet full. “I’ll see her.” 
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You didn’t know how you were gently swindled into giving Bucky your number. You knew that it was nothing but friendly, but he was so charming that you felt like you could never not know him. In fact, it felt like you already did know him. He said something about maybe commissioning an artwork of yours, and of course that excited you. You were going to meet him at a coffee shop, in a public place even though you weren’t the slightest bit afraid of him. But something felt different. 
 It started once you got into your car. You were driving to get to the shop when tingles came down your spine, and bumps raised on your arms, like someone was whispering against your skin. You started to feel warmth come and go in waves, brushing against your mind and then retreating again. You shook off all of the strong feelings as you turned your car off, parked in front of the coffee shop while the music from your speakers filled the silence, soft piano music that was perfect for the weather. 
  It was drizzling, the kind of weather that you liked to call a “lover’s drizzle” because of how often it was seen in romantic scenes. Scenes of confession, of reunion, of desperation between two lovers- more often than not, they had the mild rain to stand in. You turned the music down before shutting your car off and then stepping out, closing the door and locking it immediately before walking briskly to the entrance of the coffee shop with your recent drawings in hand. 
 Bucky wasn’t there when you arrived. In fact, hardly anyone was there besides the few employees, who smiled at you when you entered but otherwise fell back into conversation amongst themselves, which was fine with you. There was one beefy blonde man who was sitting with a laptop and a ball cap on. He glanced up for a moment and then took a double take, blinking hard at you with a star struck look on his face, and then he shot his gaze back down and went back to typing.
You sat down at a table for two, the only type of table that was there besides the long, awkward study tables that they had set up in the center of the room. You would much rather take the intimate setting of a two-seater than to sit in the middle of the shop, so you did just that. You flipped through your work, looking at it closely now that you had the time. He had mentioned something about possible portrait work for a friend of his, so you naturally brought most of the drawings that you had done with hands, arms, eyes, hair, nearly everything that was the closest to your heart. You rested your palm on top of them and watched your fingers trace the slender ones that you had drawn in what felt like by memory at the time, like you were just remembering the way an old friend’s hands used to look. You peeled that one back and looked into the eyes, the strangest and prettiest light green color that made your heart pound every time you looked at it. You took a deep breath in.
  “That’s gorgeous.” You jumped in your seat as the chair in front of you pulled out from under the table, and there was the charming brunet that you had met by the fountain, giving you the same welcoming smile that he first granted you. You smiled back without hesitation, your heart warming at the sight. “You sure can draw.” 
  “I try,” you joked, your grin nearly splitting your face. “Do you drink coffee?” 
“Nah,” he said, shrugging his shoulders. “But I like tea, though.” You gave him a thoughtful look. 
“Are you into herbal healing?” 
You could have sworn that there was some sort of excitement in his eyes, but you weren’t sure enough by the time he opened his mouth again. “Yes, actually! What, does it look like I’m into it?” 
“No,” you answered, and it was true. Bucky was huge. He had the kind of build that intimidated other guys at the gym, the kind that made athletes jealous. He looked like the typical meathead, but he was sweeter than you could have imagined. But he looked nothing like a man who would be into herbal healing. “Just a guess.” 
“Pretty good guess,” he mused, and you grinned back. Your head was in the clouds of some strange deja vu when he asked you if you wanted something, and the entire exchange of whether or not you were going to pay was on the back burner as you sifted through your thoughts. By the time he came back, you noticed that you must have told him that you liked hot chocolate, and that he must have paid. You scolded him before he sat back down, waving you off. It was silent for a few moments as you looked out of the window, the rain still steadily working through the atmosphere. The cup was comfortingly warm. 
“Can I ask you something?” 
  With any other man, you would have immediately told him no, or at least have your guard up. But there was just something deep down, so buried that it was faint, but it was there, that told you that he was nowhere even close to being a threat. “Yes.”
 He nodded, taking a sip of his tea and then putting his cup down gently before giving you an intense look. “Who’s the girl?”  
You frowned. “What girl?” 
He raised a singular brow. “The one you draw.” 
Your breath hitched in your throat. You blinked twice, and then tilted your head to the side. “I don’t draw just one person,” you said slowly, the lie dragging its way out of your mouth and through your teeth. “They’re different people.” 
“Oh,” he said, but the smirk on his face told you that he knew you were lying to him and to yourself. You sipped your drink and something tugged at you, telling you to look out of the window and into the rain again, just one more time before you spilled your guts about seeing things- and then something caught your eye. A flash of a familiar reddish-brown. You turned your full body to look that way, and once you did, you nearly dropped your cup. 
  There was a woman staring back at you, eyes wide and full of so much emotion that the artist in you wanted to rush to make an unworthy attempt at capturing it. Her lips were parted in pure shock, but you were watching them tremble even from far away. She was getting slightly damp in the rain, but she stood there like it didn’t even matter, just locking eyes with you and sending your heart rate through the roof. When your eyes finally came back to hers after looking at her for what felt like the quickest eternity, you gasped. You knew those eyes. 
  If you weren’t so deep into gazing at the woman stuck behind the glass, you would have noticed the pleased and content look on Bucky’s face, and the look that he gave the big blond sitting with a ball cap on all by himself. You would have noticed the way that the blond man was turning his body towards your table, watching with the same amount of anticipation as Bucky was. You tried to understand why she looked so familiar, why she was scratching the part of your brain that always tried to convince you that you were much older than twenty something- and then it hit you. 
  You had been drawing this woman. And you had been thinking about her ever since you knew how to think. It was just the first time you were ever seeing the full picture. “I-” you muttered, eyes stuck on her and the way she looked like she was about to topple over from emotions. The words got stuck in your own throat as you weakly tried to get your mind to take you back to the conversation. “I- excuse me. I have to- I’ll be back- excuse me.” Your chair made a loud noise as you stood from the table in a haste, pushing the door open and walking towards the woman who was still standing on the sidewalk, dumbstruck. 
Before you even knew you were outside and into the rain, you were standing not even four steps away from the woman, who was now looking at you with an incomprehensible look on her face. You couldn’t even feel the rain on you. All you could feel was her gaze and the warmth that was settling in your stomach and chest, and the same intense familiarity that was hitting you when you looked at Bucky. But it was so much stronger. 
“I-” you frowned, taking a step closer and resisting the urge to reach out and touch her. “Do I know you? Have we met?” You had to have met. You had seen her in your sleep, in your daydreams, in your sketchbook. And still, you never could have imagined how beautiful she was. 
She was silent. 
“I know this is random and that I just bum rushed you, but, did we go to school together or something?” You were embarrassed. You had never begged someone to remember you before, but this woman was different. She hadn’t said a word to you, and you didn’t even know her name, but you were enraptured. You swore you knew her. You swore you saw her eyes glaze over for a second. 
“You really don’t remember, do you?” Her voice struck something familiar in your chest, something warm and comforting. It was so familiar, so far back in your memory that it felt like home. Her accent, her inflection, the way she spoke slowly yet deliberately. It was all there in your mind, but you just couldn’t figure out how you knew it so well. “You don’t remember who I am?” 
 That had you closing your mouth. You tilted your head to the side at what could have been a hostile question, but her tone made it sad. Did you forget a high school friend? “Oh, um, I know you from somewhere, but I can’t really-” 
 “Think.” The desperation in her voice made your knees shake. If she were anyone else, you would have told her to go away, but you couldn’t. You didn’t want her to go away. But you couldn’t quite place her either, even though your own heart was screaming at you to remember. 
  “I’m sorry,” you said, a hurt expression on your face. You braved yourself to leave, taking a deep breath and giving her a weak smile that embarrassed you even further. “This was weird of me. I’ll just-” 
 She was reaching for you. Time started to run slower as her pale arm extended towards you, long fingers that you had committed to memory and to paper a thousand times outstretched. Your mouth dropped open ever so slightly as you stood in place for a second, body still until you subconsciously leaned forward, your nerves buzzing under your skin. 
  For a second, the only thing you could do was look at the point where her skin touched yours. 
  You had seen magic before. You had seen it in movies and at theme parks and when miracles happened, but nothing ever like when her skin touched yours. You swore that the warmth that your body had been feeling kicked in even stronger, surrounding you in comfort. Her hand was wrapped around your arm, gentle yet begging, firm yet wishing all the same for something you couldn’t quite see yet. You looked up and into her eyes, the eyes you had drawn and seen so many times, and then you saw it. 
   You saw it in more than flashes. They were coming in at the speed of light, but somehow you were able to catch every moment and every feeling that came along. You heard her voice as clear as day, ringing with laughter. You saw the two of you attempting to skip stones. You saw her enchanting your stones behind your back to make you think you had actually done it. You saw her mouth brushing over your cheeks, your mouth, your forehead. You could feel her hands on you, holding you, protecting you, cherishing you all the same. You could remember the way that you felt when you saw her standing in traditional witch’s clothing, being inducted into her coven as a blossomed witch. You saw everything and nothing, and you remembered it all. 
Wanda. 
A strangled sound escaped your body, so feral that it scared you, but you didn’t care. You pulled her forward, your head clashing against her chest. You could feel her shaking, like she wanted nothing more than to hold you just as tightly, but she was hesitating. “Wanda,” you called out, hugging her tighter, and then, like something in the universe stretched too far and then snapped right back into place, she was returning the embrace. 
  “I thought I had lost you forever,” she said, her voice hollow yet so full, so expressive. “I lost you, darling.” 
  The memories were all there, like all it took was a touch, but you were still coping with the knowledge. You had been murdered. Murdered by witch hunters, way back when witches were known and feared. That had to have been hundreds of years ago, you knew it. But still, your focus was on Wanda. It always would be on Wanda, forever and always. Just like hers was on you. 
“You didn’t,” you managed to say, your own voice thick with emotion as you buried your face into her neck, finally feeling the texture of the hair that you tried so hard to get right. “I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere ever again.” 
“I’m sorry,” she said, suddenly sobbing in your arms. You had no idea how you weren’t being interrupted in the crowded streets, but when you took a look back inside of the cafe to see the men who you so clearly remembered as Steve and Bucky, you knew it had something to do with them and their fulfilled smiles. “I wasn’t able to save you. I let you die, and I’m so sorry, darling. I’m so sorry.” 
  Her words brought you back to the present. “Wanda, no. No, no, no.” You wanted to pull away and look at her face, but the second you started to, she held onto you even tighter. You leaned your head back onto her chest. “It wasn’t your fault. There was no way any of us could have known, and no way that you could have saved me. It was beyond us.” 
  “Nothing should have ever been beyond us.” She argued softly. “I’m so sorry.” 
“But it was,” you said. “And now it’s behind us. Don’t apologize, Wanda.” You wiggled around and got free enough to look up at her teary face. “I may not have recognized you, but now that I do, I can’t believe that I ever forgot you.”
   “A new life will do that to you.” 
“Is it really a new life if I remember everything?” You said softly, the rain long gone as you stood with each other, bodies nearly molded together with how close you were. 
  She pulled away to look down at you, her eyes and overall expression tense, and then there was a look that you recognized from a long time ago. It was a look of sweet desire. You closed the cap between the two of you, pressing your lips to hers in a way that proved that you were both two lost souls who had wandered their way back to their other halves. 
“It can be whatever you want it to be, darling.” Her lips brushed your again, soft and tender and eager for more touch. “As long as you let me be in it.” 
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becomingbts · 3 years
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Time heals (sometimes) - 1
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Summary: 6 years ago, (Y/N) thought that she was finally taking her life into her hands, leaving behind a toxic and abusive relationship with a man who taught her she’d never be worthy of love. However, it became hard to ignore his words when she met her seven soulmates who rejected her without even giving her a chance to prove herself. It took (Y/N) 3 years to realize that it wouldn’t be her end. She would live on to prove them all wrong; she would become what they all thought she wasn’t: someone worthy of love. And as she stands proudly on the stage, under the  burning spotlights and the applause and  the cries of the delirious crowd, she feels alive. Alive, just like the bond she believed to be broken.
Pairings: Y/N x OT7
GENRE: Soulmate AU!, Idol Y/NAU!, semi social-media AU!, ANGST (mainly), fluff, romance, maybe smut in the series.
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Warnings:  The series is going to be heavy with a lot of personal experiences  mixed into the fiction, so this is going to be kind of therapeutic for me. Please, consider not reading the series if you are not comfortable with: abandonment issues, anxiety, panic attacks, depression, self-harm (not descriptive and only part of MC’s past), suicide thoughts (in the past), toxic behavior, toxic and abusive relationship (in the past), depreciating self-talk and low self-esteem, a lot of curse, physical and mental pain, near death experience situation (in the past), and maybe smut scenes (happy ending though, but it will probably be quite the ride).
NOTE: So hello everyone, welcome to Time Heals (sometimes). Thank you so, so much for the warm welcoming, it has been my first time getting so many asks, I was honestly overjoyed. I still don’t really know what to call this part; is it a teaser? A note? A full chapter? I believe we’ll get some snapshot of memories like this one throughout the series because there is going to be a lot to unpack on both sides. I think it will be a chapter nevertheless because I have to establish some kind of order as to which parts should be read first, and I think this one is extremely important.
Thank you for reading,
-Dolly
Profiles #2 - here - part 2
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Her scream pierced through the air while cries broke in the frenzied arena while a single blond-haired man froze, emptily staring at the stage. It felt like his senses heightened; his skin was shuddering, his eyes were frantically searching for one specific figure while his voice was lost in his throat. The screams resonating in the stadium would have been too loud for his voice to be heard anyway. 
Jimin knew he shouldn’t be there. 
Namjoon had told them more than once that none of them should try to go to one of (Y/N)’s events. It could be dangerous and they could be overwhelmed; anything could happen to them and they would still remain a nobody who fainted in the howling crowd. Would they want to take this risk? No.
So, Jimin would have had to admit that going to her very first concert in Seoul since the pandemic sounded like a very, very, very bad idea. And to be honest, it still didn’t seem to be a bright idea now that he was actually there. 
But he still went because he needed to see her for himself; to see how she was. He had so many things he dreamed about asking her. Are you okay? Are you sleeping well? Did you eat before coming to the arena? Are you nervous? Do you... remember me? 
Maybe he was torturing himself. He kept on watching her lives, following her on all social media, always made sure to leave a sweet comment, and never miss any of her new updates... Maybe he even had a folder of pictures of her on his phone but he’d never admit it to any of his mates. Taehyung would probably take his phone away from him and delete everything and Jimin couldn’t let that happen.
He felt like it was cheating. Don’t take him wrong though. When he thought that, he was not really thinking about the boys. They did collectively agree not to follow her activities as an artist but it was getting harder and harder with how popular she got anyway. Moon was everywhere. In commercials, on the radio, her songs were on the TV… Even if she was known for refusing most of the promotional contracts that were offered to her, her image was still constantly in the media despite her avoidance of it. Ironic, but the media were trying their best to find anything about her, be it positive or negative. One day she was seen on her bike, the next, she was in a coffee shop, and it kept on going on, overstepping on her privacy as if it was just a meaningless word. 
The lockdown had admittedly played a major part in Jimin’s obsession. Being in their apartment meant quickly running out of activities, and his job as a dance teacher was not really filling his free time (a lot of his classes were also canceled). It was also during that time that (Y/N) truly blew up as an independent artist. Advertisement on YouTube started being around her channel and her music, the recommendations he kept on seeing were about also her… Jimin’s resolve honestly broke easily. It was hard not to be curious about his lost soulmate even though he didn’t feel like he had the right to be hurting. 
Anyway, to come back to his main point, if Jimin felt like he was cheating; it was mostly for her. After all, (Y/N) had no means of letting the curiosity get the best of her, to know what they were doing; to simply see or contact them. He had, at first, not really thought about that. Watching her content seemed a very innocent thing to do in his opinion; billions of people were watching her content, why should he prevent himself from doing so? Yet, Jimin could still remember one of her live she did soon after that interview she had given on this damned radio show where she had revealed who her title track ‘TIME’ was about… She had gone live the next day-Jimin had jumped on his phone because of the notification-and one fan had asked her what would she do if she knew that her ‘ex-soulmates’ (and those words left a very sour taste in Jimin’s mind) were watching her. The question had silenced a previously restless Jimin, replacing his initial excitation with dread while a lump formed itself in his throat. He had not even noticed it; he was so focused on her live and her upcoming answer that Jimin had completely missed the sound of a glass breaking in the apartment. Jimin had been home alone, so even if had indeed heard it, he probably wouldn’t have bothered to check what had happened, thinking that the wind knocked it over or something. Jimin had been so absorbed by what he had been watching that he even got surprised a few hours later when Seokjin came home and yelled at him for breaking something when he had been clearly innocent, engrossed in (Y/N)’s live (not that he could tell his soulmates about that part, but yeah). (Y/N)’s live would always be more important than some random glass breaking again in their apartment. Every object was doomed with Namjoon living here anyway.
On her side of the screen though, (Y/N) had seemed taken aback as she had read the question and had gritted her teeth gently. She had seemed to be pondering about her answer even though a lot of people in her chat were telling her to forget about the question if it made her uncomfortable (a lot were even scolding the person who asked). Yet, sighing softly, she had looked up at the screen: 
“I’d appreciate it if you could refrain from asking questions on this topic. It’s not taboo but I’d rather not remember everything that comes with it. However, to answer this-hopefully-last question about it, I’d ask them to turn off my stream and to stop watching any of my content. It would only be fair after all. I’ve been denied access to their lives six years ago, why would they get a free pass into mine now?” She had not smiled nor had she seemed hurt by her own comment, yet Jimin’s heart had shattered in pieces, unable to press the cancel button. 
Her voice had slowly faded into background noise while her words had been stuck in his head. 
I’d ask them to turn off my stream and to stop watching any of my content. 
How could Jimin ever do that? He realized that he truly should. Namjoon would even agree with you, as ironic as it sounded for Jimin. Namjoon had been one of the most adamant ones about rejecting your bond, after all. Jimin was shaking with bitterness while ‘Moon’ continued her stream peacefully with music. Jimin could only try to gulp his anger down as he remembered her crumbling features on that fateful day. 
“You’re not our soulmates. This name on our arms means nothing to us. You are nothing to us if not a hindrance. Leave us alone.” 
If Jimin could go back in time, he’d prevent Taehyung from spatting those words at her. Yet, he couldn’t do anything. Playing the scene over and over in his mind wouldn’t change anything. It wouldn’t change that she probably hated them. It wouldn’t change the song she made about them. 
And worst of all, it wouldn’t change the fact that Jimin had let himself believe that their choice had been for the best, trying to console and reassure himself, even if he had already known that it was wrong. Tears were pooling up in his eyes even if none escaped as he finally caught a glimpse of her on the stage. Suddenly brought back to reality after his subconscious memory trip, Jimin finally connected back to the world, looking around while he was still frozen on his spot. People were still screaming around him and he wondered if he looked like an intruder. Because, after all, wasn’t that what he exactly was? She said it herself that she didn’t wish for them to watch her; so what was he doing here? 
Jimin couldn’t help but stare; she looked ethereal, dressed like a queen in the middle of a sold-out arena. People were screaming her name as she yelled her infamous ‘hi people’. It was an opening sentence that Jimin heard way too many times in her vlogs and suddenly hearing it in real life seemed surreal. 
Jimin could only watch in awe, entranced with her everything. 
Screw the boys and what they would think once he’d be back from her concert. 
He had been the one to find her six years ago anyway. He had been the one to bring her to their home six years ago, hoping for the boys to change their mind once they’d meet her.
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Uploaded : 09/04/2021
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user21340 · 3 years
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my only exception
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(i don’t own this gif or any of the characters in this fic)
summary: you and nat are separated when in the Red Room. you both are reunited. after holding onto a couple things to give her for a couple years you both realize love is well and alive.
warnings: violence, abuse, swearing, lil angst, fluff
pairing: natasha romanoff x fem!reader
word count: nearly 1.8k
a/n: omg i don’t know what to say! thank you for all the support on the stuff i’ve released so far. it’s super crazy seeing some of my favorite writers following me. thank you so so much for 30 followers! much love 💕💕
(italics in dialogue mean the person is speaking russian)
sorry for any mistakes i wrote this at 3am and have to get up for school at 6 😪 no bueno
It was a cold and stormy night as the power in the Red Room continuously flickered on and off even with the help of a high powered generator.
You and Natalia had been waiting for an event like this to occur so you could break out. Even though both herself and you lived only a small bit of life outside in the real world before you were taken in and trained to become a weapon, both of your humanly morals knew right from wrong. The Red Room’s treatment definitely being a wrong.
Madame B and the other monstrous staff at this facility put all you girls to bed roughly an hour ago. Nat and yourself undid your cuffs connecting your wrist to the metal bedframe so you could pack the few things you both owned before you made your escape. Both of you had talked this plan over through and through so you both were on the same page as soon as you saw that flicker of a power outage surge though the site.
At the moment you both were eighteen years old meaning both of you had proven yourselves worthy enough to hone a spot at this academy and had graduated a couple months prior.
GAME PLAN
Some information you had gathered which the staff weren’t aware of was every time the power flickered off, it disarmed and unlocked the exit door/s for nearly five seconds. The weather has been dry but cold lately not making this discovery too useful. The plan was to sneak over to uncuff yourselves in the middle of the night when these brief power outages were occurring, pack your items, and as you were about to escape bang on the wall of the large room where the girls kept at the academy would sleep to create enough of a distraction before you were out and free for good. Easy right? How wrong you’d be.
When it was time for the distraction, Nat stood by the door waiting for the next surge of lightning of whatever broke the electricities stability as you walked to the far side of the sleeping quarters where you were sure you’d have enough time to bang on the walls and sprint out of that door.
You heard a crash of thunder so you knew your escape chance would be soon. As you were about to start banging on the walls you see a door knob parallel to Nat but far away none the less start turning.
BAM
Lightning strikes, what seems to be right outside of the building. You sprint for the door only to have your arm caught by one of Madame B’s henchmen.
Just like that the power flickers.
five.
Without much thought you break away from the man’s grasp lunge at Natalia who happened to be at the door.
four.
“We’ll meet again Natalia.” you speak softly
three.
You shove her out of the door with all of your might.
two.
You use all of your remaining strength that you can muster up to slam the heavy metal door closed.
one.
Click
The door locks once again.
“You stupid little bitch. Get over here NOW!” the man practically growls.
You slowly and steadily walk over to the man as he gruesomely pummels and kicks you.
Sure the beatings, mind torture and manipulation hurt, but you’ve never experienced any kind of pain on the same caliber to what being separated from Natalia feels like.
Madame B is more than disappointed, enraged and annoyed with one of her ‘star students’. You receive daily beatings and long, tiresome training hours for helping Natalia escape. Although everyone is ‘replaceable’ in the minds of the staff as well as Madame B, they just lost Natalia so they couldn’t afford to lose you as well.
Months later the beatings finally slow down to a couple a week which you are able to endure. Madame’s mission now is to make a monster out of you by pushing you to and past your limits when training.
One night you finally drift off to sleep. You hate sleeping. It’s a constant replay of your last night with Nat. Only hoping that she made it to civilization safe and sound and is living a normal teens life. However, tonight’s dream is different. In this dream you see yourself shoving your packed-escape bag between your mattress and bedframe as you are bleeding out on the ground from the beatings. You wake up in a cold sweat and manage to kneel on the ground and slowly lift up your mattress only to find that same, small bag filled with the few, but important belongings of yours and Nat’s. You open up the bag forgetting all about what you both had packed. The most important items you see is a picture of Natalia as a toddler with alongside her mother and father, a small metal ring which you had made for her after stealing a small teaspoon at dinner, banging it against the concrete floor with a rock to flatten it out as you’d continuously bend it back and fourth so only the thinnest part is of the spoon is left which you bend into a ring before surprising Nat with it after you know she had a pretty rough day training, and lastly Nat’s papers containing important info about her such as her full name, birthplace, parents names, and birthdate.
November 22, 1984
November 22, 1984
November 22, 1984
November 22, 1984
You make sure you have this date burned into your head, latching onto any important information about her you can learn.
You hang onto those three items keeping them hidden.
Two and a half years later...
It’s late at night when you hear gunshots and fights breaking out throughout the facility. You quickly get up out of bed (once again undoing your cuffs) and grab those three items from under your mattress. You place them in your pocket getting ready to make a break for the outside world. As you reach for the door you turn back taking one last look at the place you’ve been living for pretty much the entirety of your life, only before a man in a funny red, white, and blue costume enters your view.
You bring your hands up ready for a fight.
“Look kid, I’m not here to fight you. We are breaking you out.” the man ensures
“Who even are you?” you sternly question
“Steve Rogers. But the public calls me Captain America.” his gaze settles on your figure, “Mind telling me who you are?” he pushes
“Names y/n, but look I’ve got places to be ma-“ you are cut off when Captain America’s jaw drops.
“No, we both know you don’t. But, you ARE coming with me.” you know there isn’t much room for protest but that won’t stop you from trying. You lunge at him and push him to the ground as you wave a small goodbye and sprint towards the door only for your body to fall on the ground limp. Realizing you’ve been stunned by something temporarily.
“YOU MOTHERFUCKER!” you shriek, he only chuckles.
“God, Nat was right about you.” she shakes he head with a small grin on his face.
“N-nat?” you whisper as you vision fades black.
You regain consciousness and look around only to find yourself in a weird windowy, loud vehicle type thing. You see a group of people standing around you but you see one particular familiar face hovering directly over yours lightly combing through your hair with one one hand and gently outlining your jawline with the other.
“NAT!” you screech, your brain is feeling too many emotions to comprehend at the moment.
Once she sees and hears you are awake she pulls you into a bone crushing hug.
“Y/n/n I’m so sorry I left you and you had to stay in that hellhole for so long alone I don’t know how I would’ve help up it if that-“ you cut her off
“Natalia, all that matters is I’m here with you right now.” you reason.
After getting off of what you learned is a ‘plane’ you and Nat spend hours together clinging onto one another as if, as soon as you separate you will be absent in her life for another couple years, vice versa.
Months pass by. Even though you and Nat have yet to label yourselves as a couple your hearts belong to one another after being attached to the hip to one another for pretty much every activity or mission you both do. In this time you were also recruited as an Avenger due to your skillful hand to hand combat and your masterful types of fighting you have nearly perfected from your time in the room.
The date just happens to be November 22. You are pretty sure no one in the compound is aware of Natalia’s birthday, hell, you aren’t even sure if she’s aware.
Today is the day you decide to return the missing items from her bag that you recover after she left.
You wake up next to her and wake her up with a long, graceful, soft kiss on her lips to which she responds shortly after by kissing you back as you feel as tiny smirk against your own lips.
“Hey, what was that for?” she asks playfully
“Ohhh nothing. Just maybe it’s for my favorite girl’s special day today.” Nat blushes.
“H-how’d you know?”
“Oh honey, I know e v e r y t h i n g.” you reply
Before she can respond you pull her to sit up on your shared bed and hand her an envelope containing her papers as well as he one and only photo of herself and her family.
As soon as she sees both items she sobs into your chest. (more because of the picture, you really only included her papers so she too would know all the most crucial parts of her life pre-red room era.
“Uh, uh, uh’” you tut,”One more thing.” you reach for her hand slowly and tell her to shut her eyes. You slowly slide the makeshift ring on her finger.
“Open.” you instruct
To which she gasps at the sight and just like the day you both were reunited you hugged and kissed for hours on end.
“Nat, will you be my girlfriend?” you ask with a sheepish smile.
“Of course y/n/n, I thought you’d never ask.” she takes a breath,“I know love is for children, but you are my only exception.”
“Ditto.” Natalia chuckles, “That is what the Americans say, right?” you backtrack with flushed cheeks.
She holds you tighter and presses a soft kiss to your forehead.
“Sure.” she breathes out.
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my-simp-land · 3 years
Text
You Cheeky Slink
Bucky comes to you in the night to tell you about his latest google dive and maybe something more. Bucky x reader fluff. 1508 words. This is highkey self indulgent so get ready to read the fantasy thats been living in my head lately. Thanks :))
“Doll?”
Bucky stands at my door with just his head stuck into my room.
“Bucky, what are you doing? Where’s your shirt? You’re going to catch a cold wandering around with no clothes on,” I mumble from my pillow and plushie covered bed.
He smirks. He always does that smirk when he’s about to give some smartass response. That stupid lopsided smirk with he petal pink lips surrounded by the beard he’s been growing out. It’s kinda gangly but in a good way.
“Well, I guess I’ll have to come in then, so I don’t catch a cold in this freezing hallway. You know, you don't actually catch colds from being co-”
You had to stop the groan from falling past your lips. “Buck, love you and all, but now isn't the time to drop some of your newly found knowledge on me. It's...what time is it? Bucky, it is past midnight. Please tell me why you’re in my room at 12:38 a.m. talking about colds.”
Peter and I have been teaching Bucky how to use the internet and his phone, and We introduced him to Google a few days ago. Ever since then, he’s been catching himself up on most of what has happened in the last 70s years. It’s really heartwarming to see his interest in aerial technology and space exploration. We’re all glad that Bucky is adjusting well, but he’s been bombarding us all with random knowledge he’s found on the internet.
“Well, in all fairness, you were the one that invited me in, angel. I’m just doing what you said.” The smirk again. It’s too dark now that he's standing in my dark room, but I know the smirk. It bleeds into his voice. It makes him sound more...confident. Or cocky. “But dollface, we’ve explored more of space than we have the ocean. We don’t know what all is living in the deep parts of our ocean, but we know that you’ll get spaghettified if you go into a black hole. Some people think black holes are portals and some think they’re dying stars.”
“Wait, what? Buck, where are you getting your info?”
“Google, of course. Can I sit?”
“Sure.” The heavy weight of a giant man and his absurdly heavy metal arm rests on the corner of my bed. He almost seems hesitant to sit. I can immediately feel his warmth through the blanket. Despite me keeping my area freezing, Bucky always stays warm. “But Bucky, you went to a site to read these things. You used google but from there, what did you do?”
I can hear the wheels turning in his head. “Uh...the interesting looking ones?”
“You can’t believe everything you read on the internet, Buck. Anyone can put whatever they want out there. When you’re doing this research you’ve got to use reliable sources.”
“Reliable sources? Can I lean against the wall and stretch my legs?”
“Sure. Friday will help you with that, but Peter and I, and even Dr. Banner could help explain that to you in more detail tomorrow at a reasonable hour.”
Bucky shuffles his way across my bed to rest against the wall. He’s cautious of my legs as he makes his journey. It’s almost like he goes into assassin mode. Even though I know he’s moving, he tries his best not to disturb me.
“Well, did you know the footstep on the moon will likely stay there for at least 100 million years? There’s no wind on the moon, so it can’t be blown away. And did you know space is completely silent? There’s no air, so the sound waves have nothing to travel through so no sound.”
Bucky carries on with his space talk. Not long after we became friends, he shared that as a child he was interested in planes. He wanted to be a pilot growing up. That quickly became an awkward conversation. Now, Bucky is learning to fly with Sam, but once he learned our travels expanded into space, his dreams were out of this world. Bucky would start his google dives asking about some random thing, but without a doubt, he would end up on space exploration. Peter and I want to see how he’d do in a Wikipedia race. Peter thinks he would be amazing at it, but I know he’d get carried away and go down his own rabbit hole.
“Doll, Neptune has storms big enough to swallow the entire Earth! Can I get under the blankets?”
I hummed my approval and rolled over. Bucky’s voice is deep and raspy, and something about it can lull me to sleep. Usually I can’t sleep with any noise but Bucky is different. He could probably do audiobooks. Steve’s school videos and Bucky’s audiobooks. That’s quite a pair.
Bucky carries on with his space dump until I ask him. “Bucky, Russia got a satellite in space first. Sputnik. Would you have had anything to do about it? Idk. That might be a rough question but…”
He thinks, and he thinks hard. I can imagine his brows would come together, and he would bite at the right side of his lower lip. His Neptune blue eyes would move like he’s reading words off an invisible piece of paper laid before him. He would usually run his fingers through his hair, but Sam mentioned hair loss and that made Buck a little self conscious. I told him not to worry, but I’ll catch him catching himself.
“I’m not sure, angel. I don’t remember anything being about space, but maybe i just didn’t know it was about the space race. That is bizarre though. I was around when we made it to the moon, but I wasn’t. Can I get under the blankets?”
“Yeah, yeah.” Buck starts to talk again as he pulls the blankets over himself. He worms his legs undermine. “Bucky, get your popsicle legs off me. Go put those things on Steve.”
He lets out a small laugh before he continues his ted talk of everything. Bucky has been taken with space, but he’s interested in cooking too. He loves to sit and watch The Great British Bake-Off or MasterChef or Top Chef. It was quite sweet and funny when he tried to recreate one of the meat pies from season two of TGBBO. He was so confident, and his bottom was so soggy.
“We should grow a fruit salad tree. We’ve got to do something to a fruit tree, but we’d be able to make it grow up to 6 fruits! You could have peaches, Steve gets apples, Sam gets...I don’t know, and I get plums. We’d have to think of something for Pete. But imagine it, a huge fruit salad tree orchard behind the compound!”
“If it’s an orchard, why don’t we just plant a whole bunch of different trees?”
“Bragging rights. Can I lean on these pillows? I’m just gonna lean here.”
“Sure Buckbeak.”
“Hmph. Us having a fruit salad tree would be like the animals in Harry Potter.”
“Yeah?”
Bucky carries on, but his closeness and warmth are enough to lull me to sleep.
I woke up not too much later. Bucky has slowly made his way to fully laying between me and my pillow mountain. He’s pulled me in close to him and nuzzles his face into my neck. He somehow got his arms fully around me with my noticing. Our legs are intertwined, and thankfully, Bucky’s feet have warmed up. I can hear his heart beat in this position. Despite the torture and darkness he’s witness, his heart still beats like a young bird’s wings. His body and mind is old, but his heart is young. A young man from the 40s thrust into the 21st century. It is a cruel fate, but I know Bucky is strong enough to carry this burden. A heart is a heavy burden to carry.
I wake with the sun; a curious beam has made its way directly into my eyes. I go to grab a pillow to cover my face, but I seem to be in the death grip of a certain super soldier. I’m able to shimmy my way around to look at him. He looks at peace. Bucky always carries his anxieties and burdens, but in this moment, he looks youthful. He isn’t a super soldier who lost himself for 70 years. He isn’t a man who is widely hated and has to redeem himself. He isn’t a man with blood on his hands. He’s just Bucky; a great guy that will hold you when you cry or share a big bellied laugh with you.
“See something you like, dollface?”
“You slithered your slinky way into my bed.”
“No, no, no. You invited me in, so I wouldn't catch a cold. I just made myself not cold.”
“Oh yeah?”
“Yeah. You were obviously the best solution, cuddle bug. Your heart is so full of love and compassion that it’s gone hot.”
“You’re a big sap.”
“Only for my best girl.”
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Hopes and Dreams III
.I am not entirely sure about this chapter, if I’m completely honest, so I’ll probably rewrite it at a later time. If you want to get added to the taglist just let me know! Thanks for your continuos support with this fic, it honestly gives me so much life right now! *** Chapter 3
“There seem to still be a few things you haven’t seen.” Lady Dimitrescu stated after you reached the sitting room.
“It’s not everyday that you see girls turn into a swarm of bugs. I’ve seen a lot, but I never said I have seen everything.”
“Which brings me to the question that I want answered. What are you? My first guess would be that you are a vampire, like me and my daughters, but I have a feeling that that isn’t true. Sit down please, so that I can take a look at your wound.” Her tone brooked no argument, so you did as you were told and rolled up the leg of your pants. You winced when you saw the true extend of the damage. Even with enhanced healing it would take a few hours to properly heal.
“My biological father was a scientist, who researched a lot of occult and supernatural topics. He was also a massive asshole who thought it okay to experiment on his own baby daughter, so there’s that. I don’t know how, but someone he got his hands on the DNA of some creature no one really has a name for, but I have a guess. The only thing he really knew, was that they are like Vampires, but much more powerful.
He injected me with the DNA when I was four, but nothing happened, so I was deemed a failure. He did all kinds of tests on me, to see if the DNA would activate, but it didn’t. At least not until he tried to kill me. I was no stranger to torture after he failed, but that night I knew he came to finish it. I was 10, and I was scared and angry, so much so, that something in me broke. There wasn’t much left of him after I was finished. 
I’ll spare you most of the details of what happened after, since it is not relevant for what you want to know, and I hate the feeling of being exposed when I don’t know if I can trust the person in front of me. I ran away and my benefactor found me and took me in. I don’t know how, but somehow, he knew what I had become, and he took it upon himself to make sure that I got the best training I could get. I can somewhat use my enhanced abilities, but I am not completely awakened. I’ll get to that part shortly. 
After 6 years I was deemed ready to repay the favor and got sent on a hunt for rare artifacts, as I mentioned earlier. I was free to research my condition whenever the opportunity arose, and I did. I traveled the whole world, met all kinds of creatures and people, yet no one could help me with my predicament. That was until 8 months ago, when I found the first real clue. But that clue came with a price and I have been cursed. 
I still don’t have a name for the creature that I have become, but I found an old text that explained a lot to me. My kind won’t fully awaken until they bond themselves to another being, that has roughly the same power that we have. That’s where the curse made things more complicated: If I try to bond with anyone that isn’t my destined mate, I will die. Slowly and painfully. 
And if that isn’t enough, the curse took the ability to sense my mate away from me, at least in the traditional sense. Usually, we will know our mate by smell alone, for their blood will sing to us like nothing else ever could. We would feel a strong pull towards them, and they to us, for our blood will be just as exquisite to them, as theirs is to us. The curse took that ability away from me, and now I am destined to walk the earth, waiting for my mate to find me. 
Another side effect is what I call ‘boiling blood’. When I feel threatened enough it will activate and temporarily awaken me. I can’t control it though, and that is the problem. It only happened once so far, and that was when someone I care a great deal for, got hurt. But I have it under control for the most part. I just don’t like it when people I care about get hurt, I lost myself even before the curse happened. And I do understand if you deem me to dangerous and kick me out of the castle. You wouldn’t be the first one.” You ended lamely and sighed. It always took a lot out of you when you talked about the past. 
“You mentioned that you have a theory about what exactly you are?” Alcina asked and gently patted your dressed wound. You suppressed the gentle shiver that wanted to roll down your body and said, “I think I am a Vampire, but one of the first generation.”
***
“And what makes you think that?” Alcina asked carefully. You pondered that for a moment, her eyes never leaving you. She could see that it took a toll on you to tell her all that, and she could understand that. Admitting what had happened couldn’t be easy, especially when there was the possibility that you would be thrown out or worse. Alcina didn’t plan on doing either of those things though, and she would tell you soon enough. An idea was forming in her head.
“I read a lot about vampires and had my fair share of encounters, none of them as nice as the one with you, so I figured it must be something like that. Whenever a Vampire turns someone, a miniscule part of their DNA gets implanted in the one they’ve turned. That is why your Maker will always be stronger than you. But since I got way more DNA with fathers’ experiments, it could mean that I am the first person who got turned into a Vampire of the first generation. And if not first, then second, which would still be infinitely more powerful than a Vampire of third or fourth generation. Although I can’t be sure, since I destroyed everything that could give me a clue, when I killed my father.” You said silently, looking at the floor. Alcina couldn’t help but feel pity for you. A bad hand was dealt to you, and you just tried to live your life. She also admired how strong and confident you were, even after all that had happened.
“I have an offer for you.” Alcina said and put two fingers under your chin to make you look at her, ignoring your blush.
“Stay here. You have nowhere else to go, right? You fascinate me and I want to know more about your abilities if you are willing to show me. And I could use a hand to help me in the castle’s upkeep. But make no mistake, my dear. As soon as you show me that you become a threat, I will dispose of you. What do you say?” Alcina asked, but she knew your answer already. She could see it in the softening of your eyes and the spark of hope that flickered in your eyes. You gently nodded and gave her the most brilliant smile she had ever seen. Both of you briefly wondered where that feeling of trust came from, you more than Alcina, but for the moment it was enough.
***
A weird sense of coming home fell over you, when you looked into her eyes, that had gentled with your consent. She could probably kill you with a snap of her fingers, but somehow you got the feeling that she wouldn’t. Most people feared you when you told them what you were, not all of them humans either. But she gave you the feeling of safety, no matter what your nature was, and you wondered. Could she be the one that was fated to be with you? Or was that just wishful thinking, because she showed you kindness where everybody else would only show you fear and hatred? You were immensely attracted to her, that’s for sure, but could she be the one? 
“I want to see the full extend of your abilities as fast as possible if you don’t mind. If it is alright with you, I would arrange a little sparring session between you and my daughters.” Lady Dimitrescu said and took a seat on the chaise lounge in front of you. 
“I wouldn’t mind. It has been far too long since someone has offered me a challenge, so I will gladly accept, my Lady. My wound should be fully healed by tomorrow, so we can start first thing if you’d like,” you offered, eager to show her what you were capable of. Maybe she will keep you around for longer if you show her that you would be a valuable asset to her castle.
“I would like that very much, my dear. But now is time for you to eat and rest, as it is rather late. The day has been rather long and eventful, not just for you.”
“Of course, my Lady,” you smile and as if on cue, the door to the sitting room opened and one of the daughters entered the room with two plates. You hadn’t even realized how hungry you were until the smell of the food hit your nostrils. The two of you ate in companionable silence, and soon enough it was time to leave her presence for the night. 
The guest room she showed you was like nothing you have ever slept in before. You were used to all sorts of places to sleep, but never have you seen a bed so big and comfortable looking.
“Good Night, my dear. I hope you sleep well,” Lady Dimitrescu said and left you to your own devices before you could answer her. You dressed down to your tank top and shorts and fell into a peaceful slumber as soon as your head hit the pillow.
***
When you next opened your eyes, you were surrounded by the familiar darkness of your dreamscape, yet something felt different. You could sense a presence at the edge pf your consciousness and soon enough, a gentle voice spoke to you “So you finally found her.”
“Huh?” you asked into the darkness, chills running down your spine. The voice giggled and a shadow crept into the edge of your vision, which soon turned into a girl, that oddly enough, had somewhat of a resemblance to you.
“Who are you?”
“You’ll have to find that our for yourself. But what matters is, that you have finally found her. My Alcina,” the girl said and looked close to tears, although she was still smiling.
“Don’t get me wrong, but I don’t think that Lady Dimitrescu belongs to anyone.” You said, defensive of the Lady. That made the girl laugh again, and you couldn’t get over the fact that she looked so much like yourself.
“You are right. But she was mine, as I was hers, a long time ago. Listen, the castle’s magic is strong, but not strong enough to give me enough time to explain everything. Just trust me, okay? Stay by her side, no matter what. Protect her. But most important: Take care of yourself. She lost us too many times already, but maybe you are the one that will break this hellish circle.” 
“I-I don’t understand!” you said desperately, trying to reach for the girl, but she was already fading.
“We will speak to each other again when the time is right. Until then, remember my words. Please protect her. Do what we couldn’t do and survive.” Were her parting words before you awoke, drenched in cold sweat. What the fuck was that?
But no matter how hard you tried to grasp at your dream and its implications, you felt your consciousness fading and fell back into a deep slumber.
***** Taglist: @imdreamingblo @x-x-trixxster-k-m-w-x-x
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lunmelia · 3 years
Text
Listen I know that Jack had to “grow up fast” because the world is a “dangerous place” or whatever but if he was born a baby?? I would’ve watched the hell out of that show. Just two dudes, their mum and an angel raising the devil’s baby. Because I say that they kicked Lucifer’s ass to the alternate world and everyone lives (except Kelly. Sorry.). Could you imagine? 
You have Mary; the woman who has experience in raising two babies, even if one was only for six months.
You have Dean; the man who basically raised Sam and has vague memories of helping out when his brother was a baby. Helped Lisa with her son and baby niece. Took care of a shapeshifter baby for a day. Also had a daughter for a couple of days but didn’t interact with her much. 
You have Sam; not much experience. Also took care of a shapeshifter baby for a day. Strong in research, might manage to find them at least a paragraph of how to raise a nephilim. Killed his niece. Not a great sign but he promises he won’t do that this time. 
You have Castiel; the angel expert. Is a literal angel. Has no experience with babies apart from that one night he babysat for his co-worker. Kind-of-sort-of-not-really a dad to a teenage girl. Only times he’s had to interact with a nephilim is when he’s been ordered to kill one, so, not a good sign but he promises he won’t do that this time. 
Together, they make do. But holy shit is raising Jack tough. 
He may not have a true form like Castiel but he does have wings and a true voice. Which he can’t control. So the tantrums. The tantrums. When he was born he made their ears bleed from the crying, and the lights exploded. Cas was miraculously able to calm him down before further damage was done, but the humans always make sure to have earplugs on them from then on. They also had to buy a large supply of lightbulbs to replace the ones in the bunker every time he cries. 
They had to baby proof the bunker. And I mean baby proof the hell out of the bunker. You think a normal house can be dangerous for a baby? The bunker is huge. And full of knives, guns, spellbooks, ancient artifacts, and just about a thousand other things that are not. good. to have around a baby. The baby proofing took a week. Two days of exploring the bunker and recording everything that needed to be baby-proofed, two shopping trips in a day to buy the things needed, and another three days of installing everything. Cas had to stay with Jack in his room while Mary, Sam and Dean did all the baby proofing. 
(also yes this is an AU in which Dean and Cas get their shit together, confess their feelings, build a house and raise Jack as his dads. the build a house part comes in when Jack is like 3)
The absolute freakout Dean had when Jack flew the first time. It happened when he was five months old, and Dean was changing his diaper. He turned around for a second to throw out the wipes. Heard the flap of wings, turned back around with a greeting for Cas on his lips, and Jack was gone. It went like this: Dean, staring at the empty table: ... Jack? Jack- *realisation* Cas! Cas, the baby’s gone! Cas! The baby can fly! Baby’s flying- Cas, appearing in front of him with a giggling Jack in his arms: yes, I am well aware Dean: oh my god- Jack: *disappears again* Dean: *yelps in alarm* Cas: *simply reaches up and just. plucks Jack out of thin air. one moment there’s empty air and the next Jack is just in Cas’ hands* Cas: this may become... difficult Dean, leaning over with his hands on his knees: I’m gonna have a heart attack
Turns out, baby Jack can heal! Which is what Mary discovered when once she had held Jack after coming back from a hunt with a few scrapes, they miraculously disappeared. 
You know when toddlers will get into the flour and leave a mess that you have to clean up for the next two hours? Yeah, well Jack got into a box of spellbooks and opened one which released monsters from fables. So that was a very panic-filled 6 hours that included Sam, Dean and Mary researching how to put them back / kill them while Cas held Jack close to make sure he didn’t fly away. Turns out, baby-proofing a bunker is pretty useless when said baby can fly through walls.
Apart from the many mishaps thathappened during raising Jack from infancy to toddlerhood, he’s just a weird kid. And kids are usually weird, but Jack is weird. 
Sam basically sprinted back to the car with a five-year-old Jack in his arms after Jack had held a woman’s hand in his at a playground and gently told her, “the events that lead to your father’s death were never your fault. He is in his Heaven now and although he is at peace, he begs that you make room in your heart for forgiveness of his wrong doings.” Yeah, they were very close to moving town when that happened. 
One day when he was 6, he walked outside into the back yard and just sat down in a random spot and stared at the ground. After a couple of minutes of glancing out the window to check on him, Dean walked up to him. Dean: whatchu up to, kid? Jack: there is a daisy that is going to grow and bloom here in 15 days. I’ve never seen a flower grow. I would like to watch it, if that’s okay? Dean: you want to sit here, in this exact spot, for 15 days so you can watch a flower grow? Jack, still not taking his eyes off the spot: yes Dean, who’s honestly used to this behaviour after witnessing it for the past two years: ... alright, sure. I’ll bring you dinner in a couple of hours, that sound good? Jack, finally looking up with a beaming smile: yes, thank you! (Cas and Dean did not let him sit in the same spot for 15 days. They did sit next to him for like two hours when the daisy did bloom, though. And despite the creak and buzzing ache in his knees and back, Dean can’t find it in himself to regret it.) 
he had a phase when he was 7 where he would say hi to everyone he came across. Everyone. Dean and Cas cannot make one shopping trip with him without everyone in that store knowing Jack’s name. He says bye when they leave too. 100% every time they get at least 5 people saying bye back. 
On the year he turned 8 they decided to enrol him in school. After weeks of telling him not be “weird” and teaching him to be as normal of a kid as he could be. When the 4 of them are confidant that he won’t go around using his powers, they enrol him. They did not anticipate the school calling him the first day, telling them that Jack had explained to the other kids that Santa isn’t real and they should “learn to not set themselves up for disappointment or believe what their parents say” which caused the entire class to burst out into tears. It was another “maybe we should move town” moment.
Another kid: my dad broke his leg. he has to walk with crutches now. sometimes he lets me use them! Jack: both my dads have died. one of them was torn to shreds by hellhounds who then dragged his soul down to hell where he was tortured for 40 years, but then father rescued him, that was how they met. but then father was blown to bits by my biological father. but then my grandfather resurrected him! they’re fine now.  Their teacher: uh, wow... Jack. sure sounds like you have some very vivid dreams Jack, remembering he’s not supposed to talk about this kind of stuff: ah, yes, of course... dreams. I woke up... crying. a lot. the dreams... scared me. 
I have... so many other little moments in my head, but this post is already so long so let me know if anyone wants more. 
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dizzydancingdreamer · 3 years
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You're My Home Too | Loki Laufeyson
Hey lovelies happy Saturday! I hope you all have had a lovely day! Here is the first Loki "drabble" of the event, please do enjoy and make sure to take care of yourselves today!
Appetizers (Tags): Angst, Fluff
Entres (Pairing): Loki x F!Reader (third person)
Sides (Prompts): 6: “You’re all I have.” “You’re all I have too, you know?”
Notes: None, Requested by Anon
Word Count: 2.2k
Dinner at Dizzy’s Master List
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She watches as the black haired god tilts his head, eyes locked on his brother. It looks like he’s nodding along, agreeing to something Thor has said, but she can see it— the way his pupils dart across the blonde’s face, flitting over his shoulder before returning, latching on a different spot. It’s unnerving to watch him be so docile. So passive— not at all like the usual, fiery tempered, grinning god of mischief. She’s never seen him look so blank. Something’s definitely wrong.
She has a feeling she knows what it is, too. If she’s right then it’s the same reason she laid awake all night, curled on her side of Loki’s bed, listening to the sound of his steady breathing until the sun came up. She can practically hear the conversation— Thor’s been itching to go home for weeks now. Somehow they’ve always managed to get held up each time— saving the world and what not. Now, though, there’s nothing keeping them. No androids or aliens or wizards. Just her— the best friend— and that’s not going to cut it.
Loki’s eyes flick to hers, blue irises somehow vibrant even from across the room, and she forces the corners of her lips to turn up, an attempt at flaking off the frown that she’s sure has been plastered on her face all morning. If his frown is anything to go by, however, then she would say that it doesn’t work out. Oh well— she didn’t really expect it would.
He can sense lies and even if he couldn’t he would still be able to read her like a book. Half the time it feels like he’s more in her head then she is, always figuring out what she wants before she can think it let alone say it aloud. Usually that’s followed by him dropping whatever he’s doing to get it for her. Unless, of course, it’s a hug— then he’s dropping whatever he’s doing and pulling her into his arms.
Who’s going to hug her if he’s a galaxy away?
Is it even a galaxy? Surely it’s more. A dimension away. Her stomach tosses, the sting in her chest mixing with a wave of the nausea she’s been fighting all morning. A combination of not eating— not being hungry enough to eat— and sadness. No not sadness— grief. Sadness feels easier. It’s waving your best friend off to college— not to another fucking world. This isn’t sadness— this is losing everything she has come to need for an entire year. Warmth and protection and his sea-salt skin and elegant voice. Who else is going to speak so gently to her when he’s gone?
“Dove—” she blinks and he’s suddenly there, kneeling on the floor in front of the couch where she's been sitting for the past hour, legs curled under her and all the way numb— “what’s wrong?”
His dark brows crease together, his hand snaking from his side and reaching for hers. She offers him another pathetic half-smile, tangling her fingers with his long ones and shaking her head slightly. “Nothing, Loki. How’d your talk go?”
She doesn’t miss the way he winces. He tries to hide it, replicating her tilted lips with his own, but, like her, his eyes don’t follow suit. Instead they flash with something that looks too much like dread for her to keep her act up. When her mouth creases into a frown, so does his. It’s all she needs to know— he really is leaving her.
“My brother misses home.” The god reaches out his other hand and— like everything they seem to do— she copies him, meeting him halfway and lacing those fingers together as well. He runs his thumb over hers, his blue eyes intense— worried. “There are a few things we have to sort out. They’re getting impatient.”
They’re. That could mean so many things. It could mean his people— the asgardians. It could mean his family— it definitely means Thor, the god who she can hear pacing from the kitchen. Her eyes pool over the features of the man in front of her, landing on the circles under his eyes. Does it mean him too? Has she been keeping him from going home? The thought makes her throat sting— of course she has. She’s been so stupid, clinging to a literal god. Of course he would have to go home at some point. She was only fooling herself thinking he would stay with her. What’s upstate New York when you have a celestial castle or whatever the hell it is he has?
“Dove?”
She blinks again, zoning back into his even more concerned stare— shit.
“Sorry,” she mumbles, squeezing his hands if only to ground herself against slipping away again. “That sounds important. Your, uh, your kingdom needs you.”
I need you too, though.
It feels like her heart is lodged in her throat and that she’s speaking around it. When she swallows it doesn’t go away— if anything it grows, tears stinging at her eyes, threatening to fall. She hates how selfish she feels. He doesn’t belong to her— he doesn’t belong with her— and she should feel lucky to have called him her friend for this long. Still she can’t help but wonder what her days will look like without him. Empty. Boring. Terrifying. She has friends here but it isn’t the same. The connection isn’t the same— the warmth and smiles and laughter aren’t the same.
She isn’t just losing her best friend, she’s losing her home.
And she breaks.
And he notices.
God, he always notices.
She supposes with the tears now streaming down her face, though, that she can’t exactly blame him for that one. It’s a little noticeable. What she will blame him for is how he releases her hands, instead rising to his full height and settling on the couch, angling his lithe body towards her and wrapping his arms around her stomach. He waits— one beat, two beats— for her to turn as well, pushing up on her knees and throwing her arms around his shoulders. She holds him tight— tighter than she can confidently say she has ever held him before. She has to— it’ll very likely be the last chance she gets. She has to memorize it— him.
“I’m sorry,” she laughs bitterly. It’s more of a sob— the kind that catches in her throat, getting stuck between silent and booming. “I’m being silly.”
Loki shakes his head— she can’t see it but she can feel his jaw brushing her hair, his hands pushing her closer to his chest. She digs her fingers into his jumper, scrunching the green wool like somehow it’ll make this all okay. His hand runs up her back, curling it around the nape of her neck, hand cool and soft.
“No you aren’t.” He murmurs, face still pressed against her hair, and she fights back more tears— he’s too gentle with her.
She doesn’t say anything right away, she just sinks against him, biting her lip and forcing herself to just be in the moment. He smells like rain today. It’s always different— always changing— but today he smells like the summer pavement before a three day thunderstorm hits and it feels fitting.
After a few moments she finally pulls away, tugging against his hold and running the heel of her hand under her eyes. He doesn’t give her much leave, only a few inches to be able to look up at him, blinking away the blurriness of her glassy eyes and sniffling. His lips are pressed together, his head tilted again. Unlike with his brother, though, his eyes never stray from hers. As always, it makes her breath catch in her throat, her heart racing in the way only he can seem to do.
She finally brings herself to ask the hard question— the one that’s been hanging around them for weeks. “When are you leaving?”
His fingers on her spine tense— that can’t mean anything good.
“Today, dove.”
“Oh.”
She doesn’t know what else to say— that and if she says anything more she’s afraid she might start sobbing again. Sobbing or just stop breathing altogether. Today? She couldn’t have had one more night with him? You’ve already had ‘one more night’ for four weeks, the little voice in her head reminds her. It’s time to let him go. She slips her hands around his arms— easier said than done. She knows that once he leaves her life will change— and it might never go back to normal.
Loki’s eyes flash, the blue darkening, a crease forming between his brows. He opens his mouth but no words come out and soon he’s pressing his lips together again, the dejection in his eyes and aura tangible. She has to say something— she can’t leave it on this note. She just has no idea what to say. No idea how to say goodbye.
So she doesn’t.
“You should probably start packing then, yeah?” She pushes her lips into the tortured smile again, muttering the words.
She’s sure he would have forced himself to laugh—
“I want you to come with me.”
— were it not for him speaking at the same time.
Her heart stops when his words flit past her eardrums. “What?”
She must be dreaming— there’s no way he just said what she thinks he said. It has to be her imagination playing a cruel trick on her. Trying to protect her from the pain until the last second. But no, that’s not right, now when his cool hands move from her back to her cheeks, his thumbs running over her cheekbones and drawing her back to him. He leans down, pressing his forehead against hers and she gasps— she can’t help it. His skin is so soft that her eyes flutter close.
“I said I want you to come home with me, dove.” His nose brushes against hers, his words entirely soft.
She’s speechless— completely and utterly floored. “To Asgard?”
He chuckles, minty breath fanning her lips. “Yes, to Asgard.”
She pulls back, head so fuzzy she almost topples over from the motion, hands curling tighter to keep from falling. He really wants her to go home with him? Just like that her heart starts beating again, kicking starting her pulse which begins hammering as the notion of staying with him starts to become clear. He’s not leaving?
“But—” she stammers, blinking rapidly as she tries to form a coherent thought— “why me?”
For a moment he just looks at her, his brows knitting together once more, his eyes filling with something she can’t decipher. He kind of looks confused. Only she could confuse a god. She almost slaps herself, her pulse thrumming in her ears. Why the heck would you ask him that you idiot? Now he’s not gonna’ want to take you with—
“Because you’re all I have.”
He says it so nonchalantly— like it’s a fact and not a confession that makes her very essence roar. She supposes that to him it is just a fact. That when you’re all powerful speaking your mind is normal. It is just a fact and she is just a girl and he is just a god. Fact, fact, facts. Her head spins. This— he— cannot be real.
“I—” That’s as far as she gets before her sentence drops, mouth gaping but empty.
Thankfully he picks it up, continuing his unconcerned profession.
“It’s not home if you’re not with me, my little midgardian. Not anymore.” He shrugs and she almost chokes— how is he saying this so calmly when she feels like she’s going to combust? “I really think you’d like it, actually. It’s very pretty— lots of gardens. Oh, and the library! You would enjoy the library.” He tilts his head, his eyes fading out slightly as he thinks about his home. “I’m sure there will be a ball of some sort when we arrive home. I know, I know— you don’t like big events but—”
This time she’s the one who places her hands on his cheeks, shaking her head, letting the first euphoric giggle out. “Of course I’ll go, Loki.”
A grin spreads across his lips, his eyes widening like he just won the lottery as he leans forward, connecting them once again. It makes her heart jump in her chest. What did he think she was going to say? No? She giggles when his lips press against her cheek, her nose scrunching. He must notice because his mouth curves even more against her skin. Soon his lips aren’t just on her cheek but on her forehead and chin and nose as well.
“Even if we have to go to a ball?” He teases, his voice lighter than she’s heard it in weeks.
“Even then.” She confirms, fingers gliding into his hair and tangling them in the silky strands. She takes a deep breath, nerves thrumming as she adds softly. “You’re all I have too, you know? You’re my home too.”
Loki hums happily against her skin, taking her own confession the same way he had made his own— easily. It’s the best outcome she could have hoped for. She can’t wipe the wide smile from her lips as he wraps his arms properly around her once more. It’s not long before his lips find her ear, soft words echoing against her skin.
“You should probably start packing then, yeah?”
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