invited him to join their company

Not A Fairytale, Just This

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Summary: Bucky believes you deserve more, but all you need is right in front of you.

Warnings: Angst, fluff, angst, fluff, kissing, fluff, *mic drop* the end

Word Count: 2331

A/N: Kind of a song fic based on Something Just Like This by The Chainsmokers and Coldplay. I didn’t include lyrics because I thought it flowed better without them, but this story follows the song. I would love to know what you think :)

Originally posted by perfectfeelings

He was to be living with heroes. The righteous, the worthy, the ones who had been given a second chance and redeemed themselves.

He was given a second chance and he failed. After he fell and woke up alive, Hydra broke him. He couldn’t escape. He complied. How did he deserve the third chance he was given now?

Keep reading

Across the Table

Just a short piece about dinner with the Charming’s from Killian’s perspective.

The first time he’s invited to dinner it’s an awkward feeling.

He’s never had to do this before; dine with the parents. He’s had dinner in the company of the Charmings before, sure, but this was under a whole different circumstance. Now he was joining them as Emma’s boyfriend, specifically for them to get to know him without the main topic being whatever villain they were facing.

No, the topic this time would be him, and it was completely unchartered waters.

He’d never been the subject of any lass’s affections as a lad; he’d been a slave on a merchant ship. Not exactly suitor material. And once he’d enrolled in the navy, his time was dedicated to being the best at his job; making something of himself for Liam to be proud of. There wasn’t time for courting.

Of course, once he’d turned to piracy, it was nothing but giggling barmaids, sneaking off with him in lure of his pretty face, or lonesome wenches chasing the thrill and danger of his profession.

And then Milah came along…

Killian had never been the type of man to take home to the family, which is why he was suddenly unsure of how to act.

He wanted to give a good impression. He wanted to show he was worthy of Emma and deserving of their acceptance, but he also refused to change who he was just for the sake of impressing them. He was stuck straddling a indecisive fence.

“Sorry about this.” Emma kept whispering to him, showing she was embarrassed and insisting that her mother was responsible for the event.

But Killian knew, although Emma wasn’t keen on her parents making a big spectacle, she was just as nervous as he. It was new for her too. She’d never brought someone home to meet her mother and father. She too wanted to make a good impression of herself.

It was that knowledge that had him determined to make it go well.

The night turned out a lot better than he’d expected. The awkward conversation had soon blossomed into stories of the Enchanted Forest. He’d found himself triggering fond memories for the couple with his recounts of past adventures.

He’d even managed to get David to laugh.

By the end of the night, Emma had a smile on her face, pride beaming from her that told him it was all worth it.

“We should do this again.” Snow announced, and the thought doesn’t have his blood running cold.

For once, he’s in agreement.

The third time he’s invited to dinner it’s bleak.

He’s not quite sure why he’s been invited over, not when the source of their association is currently shrouded in darkness and isolating herself across the other side of town.

But Snow insists on him being there.

It’s quiet. Small talk is seldom with each of them lost in their own turmoil, running the same questions through their heads. What did we do wrong? How did Emma fall so far? How do we get her back?

It warms him slightly to know that he’s still included; still welcome even with Emma’s absence. But it pains him even more that she’s absent in the first place.

Although they eat in peace and manage to find some comfort in each other’s company for the evening, it still feels like a failure.

The next dinner can only be described as bizarre.

There’s more people at the table this time, and they’re seated in an Underworld version of the loft, trapped and unable to get home, but it’s strangely pleasant.

He feels guilt.

Guilt that they’re in this predicament because of him; having to take on Hades himself because of him, but he can’t help finding comfort in knowing they did it because they feel he’s worth it.

He matters. He has a family; a place.

The underlying stress of the situation is overshadowed by their hope and reluctance to give in. They’re optimistic and determined to get back home and it rubs off on him. He shares smiles with Emma and holds her hand through it because it may not be an ideal situation, but they’re together.

And they will get back home.


Their last dinner would be marked down as his favourite.

It was the five of them once again- six if you count the littlest Prince, but it was different in so many ways.

They were no longer crammed into the loft.

This time, it was their home playing host.

His and Emma’s.

Their newly developed status is exciting and they find themselves thoroughly enjoying every moment. Both hesitant yet eager to prepare the meal together because it’s new and adventurous; not knowing who should be in charge of what, just knowing that they want it.

The charming’s being their guests, welcomed into their kitchen, sitting at their table. Killian can’t keep the smile off his face the entire night. He doesn’t remember feeling so at ease.

He pours the wine that night, he laughs the loudest, he doesn’t hold back from stretching across his seat to place a kiss on Emma’s cheek. He’s offering the dessert this time, Snow as asking if there’s anything they can do to help, David is thanking him for a great evening- It feels magnificent.

And she’s glowing with happiness too. They all are.

It was home.

It was how family is meant to be; how it should feel.

He can’t help but think about what the next dinner will be like.

Will it be back to short uncomfortable conversation with growing silence? Will he be able to share stories with them again after knowing what he’s done in the past?

Will it be on his and Emma’s wedding day? Surrounded by decorations and congratulations as they toast to good health and a happy life?

Killian is unsure of the reception he’ll receive the next time their family dinner comes around, but he knows for damn sure he needs to get off this submarine and back to Storybrooke to find out.

The big spoon

Pairing: Thor x Reader.

Warnings: Angsty-ish, swearing, mentions of smut, overall fluff.

Summary: You’re in Asgard for a long season, and this means that Thor gets to go out on missions of his own. To your eyes, Thor has never been the weak one. God forbid him to be, but once the god of thunder has had enough of battles, it is in your hands, and in yours only, to make him regain the confidence that has always characterized him.

Originally posted by buckybarrnes

“Thor Odinson.” You let the satin bed sheet reveal your naked torso. The exasperating feeling was too big to even worry about your nakedness. You were too accustomed to sleep with no clothes on, and nothing would change that. You folded your arms over your chest and cocked a menacing eyebrow at the Asgardian. “Calm the fuck down and tell me what is wrong with you.”

Out of a sudden, he stops and looks at you in a way he has never done before. He looks like a lost puppy under the rain, and as much as you tried to remember a time where you had seen him like this, you can’t recall it. True, Thor never lets his guard down, not for a minute, let alone around you. And that’s when it hit you. Thor has never seemed weak up to now.

He walked with heavy steps to the edge of the bed and sat down on the mattress. With a sigh, he covered his face with his enormous hands and you could’ve sworn you heard him crying. You crawled out of the bed and wrapped your arms around his torso, pressing your chest to his naked back.

You don’t know what to say, or if you should say something. The only thing you are able to do is to try to hold his breaking heart together, because if the unbreakable Thor is under you, crumbling down like a tower of cards, then you were sure as hell you’d break down right there because you were an easy crier.

“I just…” he mumbled in a broken voice, “I should’ve done so much more to save them…”

“Save who?” You whispered. “Love, save who?”


You gasped quietly and held on to the wall of muscles that Thor was even tighter. You placed soft kisses on the crook of his neck as you tenderly caressed his pecs. He placed a hand over yours and intertwined it. You knew this was not enough of a breakdown for him, and you’d never be calmed until you got more information from him.

You let go of him enough to find your makeshift pajama and slid the garment down your torso. You stood from the bed and pulled his hand to make him stand up and walk together towards the bathroom. You let the water run on the jacuzzi and poured some bubble liquid too. The foam started to show up and the soft steam from the water was letting you know that it had the perfect temperature.

Your hands slowly roamed up his strong arms, and your eyes met Thor’s troubled ones. You weren’t sure what was going on, but you knew very well the terrible consequences of any battle. You still had Sokovia engraved on your skin. It hurt a lot, and some days it hurt more than the others, but were trying to keep your head up, but Thor had fought for a lifetime, and his life was hundreds, and maybe thousands of years longer than yours. So in simple words, you still had no idea what was going on in that mind of his.

You cupped his face, not breaking the eye-contact; it was your silent way of telling him that you were still there with him, not matter what happened. You slid up the linen shirt and his bottoms and walked him nearer into the tub. The water had stopped a while ago, and once he sat comfortably, you heard him sighing heavily, as if the warm waters carried away his fears and worries. You took a piece of cloth and scrubbed gently the soapy water and bubbles on his skin.

“(Y/N)… I—” he stuttered—

“Don’t.” You shushed. “Just relax and don’t talk, not now.”

You were kneeling on the edge of the tub, but he turned around and skilfully took you in his arms to put you in the water too. It wasn’t part of the plan, but you could enjoy yourself if you were already there, all wet. You slid up your shirt and threw it aside. Just when Thor was coming up to you, you placed a hand on his chest and stopped him.

“Sit still, or I’ll have to strap you. And the first and last time we tried, it didn’t work.” You kindly scolded him, folding your arms over your chest. He pouted, but you were stronger. “I mean it. Sit still.” He sighed, but reluctantly accepted.

You carried on with your cleaning task trying hard not to fall into the trap of his muscles, because you were damn sure you’d never be able to leave that without coming undone at least twice. You could feel that he was feeling a bit better because his muscles were not tensed and his breathing was soft and barely audible, unlike when he’s worried about something, which apparently is always because more than once you recommended him to get those breathe better straps, but no. All he needed was something relaxing. Then you remembered that the other times when his breathing was calmed was when you slept after having sex.

He placed a hand on your waist, just when you were getting ready to straddle his hips. It was kill or be killed right now, and you weren’t sure if you were the one who’d make it alive. Your breath got caught in your throat at the sudden touch, but he just smiled at you and your unexpected nervousness. He leaned in to capture your lips in his, in a tender kiss that was his own way of saying thank you.

You were the one to break the kiss, and after that, you leaned in again to rest your head on the crook of his neck. You needed to let him know that you were there for him no matter what. He wrapped his arms around you and cradled you, cherishing the skin-to-skin contact

The water was starting to get colder, and you decided it was time to get out and go to bed. It had been a long night of getting him relaxed. You came out first, grabbing a robe that hung behind the door, and grabbed his too, you pulled the Asgardian out of the soapy water. Before you could cover him, he grabbed you and lifted you bridal style and walked to the bed.

Before he could put his body over yours, you rolled onto the other side of the bed. His brows furrowed in an annoyed and confused expression, but the night of pampering was not over yet. You slid under the covers and invited him to do the same, but before he wrapped his arms around you to spoon you, you stopped him. You were going to play the big spoon.

“What?” He asked, in the peak of his confusion.

“Thor, what is the one thing you always do when I’m not feeling well?” You ask him. He didn’t answer. “You take care of me. And this includes cleaning my wounds, and you even join me for a movie marathon of awfully sad movies. You give me your silent company and you comfort me even if I tell you that I don’t deserve it. I don’t know for sure what you’re going through because you’re not telling me and it’s probably not the same as what we all go through back on earth, but you have to know that if I see my boyfriend that’s on the verge of a mental breakdown or about to cry I will try to take good care of him. Because that’s what partners do. I am not a girlfriend to cuddle only. I will care about you the same as you care for me, Thor.”

“Don’t worry about me—I’m fine—”

“Really?” You argued. “Thor, I believe I know you better than you think. The only moment you’re breathing so softly is when we finished having sex, and yes it is very often, but the remaining time you’re breathing and snoring like your life depended on it. So don’t bullshit me with all the “I’m fine” crap, because I’ve said that enough times in this relationship. It takes one to know one, or so they say.” The two of you stayed in a terrible silence for what it seemed like forever. You deeply exhaled and patted the empty spot on the bed. “Come to bed and let me take care of you,” you pleaded, “because I know you’re not fine, and that even if you won’t tell me what the fuck is going on, I want those fears to let go of you at least for tonight.”

He sat on the bed, making the mattress sink with his weight. He was giving you his back, but when he turned around, you saw he was about to cry. His eyes shone brightly, and a soft hand went to cup your face. He was shaking and he didn’t know what to say, but it was fine, you didn’t really want him to say anything at all. You sighed and covered his hand with yours, turning your head a just a little so kiss his palm. He smiled and accepted your earlier invitation to slid under the covers that were so eager to accept him.

He found his position to sleep and you wrapped yourself around him.

“I know I say this enough times to make you sick and tired of hearing this, but I love you, (Y/N), my princess.” He said in a barely audible whisper. “I am so lucky to have you by my side.”

“Get some rest, my love.” You soothed him, pressing your cheek to his back and tightening the embrace. “Tomorrow will be a new day, and hopefully a better one.”

“I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“Probably a mess, but come on, let’s close our eyes and sleep.” You kissed the back of his neck and took a deep breath before feeling yourself completely exhausted and ready to get some well-deserved sleep.



Summary: Reader is selectively mute, but she can only watch Dean suffer for so long before speaking up.

Pairing: Dean/Reader

Warnings: Mentions of the murder of reader’s parents.


You were quiet. Very quiet. In fact, the Winchesters never heard you say a word. You were mute. A selective kind of mute.

You weren’t deaf, and you could tell Sam was a little bit disappointed that you didn’t know sign language. That was followed by Dean teasing him about wanting to practice so he could impress a girl named Eileen. You found that incredibly adorable.

You were a hunter. That much you had in common with them. And being mute didn’t make you any less capable.

Meeting the Winchesters was a random coincidence. You happened to stumble across one of their cases, or maybe it was the way around. You weren’t sure. All you know is that one second you’re sitting on a bar stool, writing down your order to hand it to the bartender, and the next you’re swinging your sword (yes, sword, because you’re a motherfucking badass) and killing demons while they tried to hold down two big guys at the back.

At the end of the fight, they looked around the place, which looked like a scene from a horror movie.

“How did you do that?” The tallest one asked. You just shrugged and cleaned your sword with a dead guy’s shirt.

“That was AWESOME!” the other guy said. “You’re a hunter, right?”

You stood there for a moment before nodding slightly. The two men looked at each other confused before the tallest one talked.

“I’m Sam, this is my brother Dean.” He said while Dean gave you a flirty smile. And you would be lying if you said it didn’t make your heart skip a beat.

You took a napkin and quickly wrote down your name.

“Y/N.” Sam read out loud.

“Wait… are you mute?” Dean asked with a frown.

“Dean!” Sam shushed him.

“What?” Dean snapped back. You smiled at their brotherly behave. You liked them already.

They invited you to join them the next morning when they say you leave your motel room and get on your bike.

“A Harley’s kind of girl. I like.” Were Dean’s exact words. “You’ll fit right in with us.”

And of course you said yes- erm, well, you just nodded your head. But you screamed a big yes in your head. You had been alone on the road for so long, you craved for some company. Especially one with those green eyes. You moved into the bunker soon after that.

The Winchesters tried to make you talk a few times. They didn’t push, but they tried to coax some replies out of you. Especially Dean.

“What would you like to do today? Wanna go see that new horror movie? If not, just say so!”

“Hey Y/N, you read a lot. You sure you’re not reading some kinky erotica, Fifty Shades of whatever?”

“We’re having burgers for dinner, unless you wanna order something else…”

You wanted to say something most of the time, but you just couldn’t find the words. You weren’t always like that but watching your own parents being torn apart by a demon left you traumatized enough to put you in a nut house. So instead you would take a deep breath and open your mouth, but your words would die in your throat and your shoulders would drop in disappointment.

Dean started to pick on this and the last time he tried to get you to talk and noticed your reaction, he just draped his arm around your shoulders and pulled you closer.

“It’s fine, sweetheart. You don’t have to say anything. I get you.”

You loved him. Deeply. It was a good thing you didn’t talk or you would probably have confessed your feelings in a very embarrassing way a long time ago.

You couldn’t help yourself. You had the same taste in music and movies, and even in cars! You loved going out for a beer with him, even if it meant watch him flirt with some other girl, because it meant to see him relaxed and in a good mood. You loved his jokes, even the cheesy ones he used as pick up lines for you.

He could make you laugh. The first time he heard you laugh and get a tiny little glimpse of what your voice might sound like he was completely shocked. It only lasted a second and a half. After that he just looked proud and smug because he got you to laugh.

But it’s been a few days since any of you laughed. Lucifer was out of the cage, Chuck was gone with Amara, which was a good thing but now there was no one left that could put Lucifer back in his cage, and to top that, Mary was brought back to life, just to leave a few days after.

It’s been tough on all of you, but especially for Dean. He took Mary’s absence really hard, and you could tell he also took it personally.

Your suspicions were confirmed when one night, after Sam went to bed, you witnessed Dean down a bottle of scotch, one glass at the time. He wasn’t exactly drunk, but tipsy enough to ramble about how crappy he felt.

Soon his words shifted. They went from his mother situation to blaming himself. He rambled on how maybe his mother wouldn’t have left if he was a better man, if he hadn’t go to hell or looked after Sammy better. Maybe she wouldn’t have left if he wasn’t so broken.


That’s the word he used. And you hated that word. Every time it came out of those lips you day dreamed about so much, a little piece of you broke too. You used to think you were broke too, and maybe you were, but living with the Winchesters taught you that the right people, the right friends, could always help you glue the pieces back together.

You watched as Dean sighed for the tenth time and downed what was left in his glass.

If only he knew how wrong he was, how much he meant to you. And not just you, but the entire world! He was a hero.

You couldn’t take it anymore. You just couldn’t. So after a moment of gathering all your strength, you got up, walked around the table and sat down next to him, your chair turned around so you were facing the other direction.

Your next few breaths were heavy and your throat felt dry, but you pushed yourself into finding your voice.

“In Ch-China…” you started with a little bit of a struggle. In the corner of your eye, you could see Dean’s head slowly turn to look at you. “… the-there a tradition… named Kintsugi.” You said slowly. Dean leaned back on his chair and now you could see the look of shock on his face. Words started to come to you one by one. “When a vase… or a plate… or anything like that breaks, the-they glue the pieces back together with liquid gold.” You explained lowly. “It makes the cracks more visible, but it also makes the piece m-m-more beautiful and adds value to it.” Finally you got the courage to look at him in the eyes. “You may think you’re broken… but to me, it only makes you even more beautiful.” You confessed and Dean’s breath hitched. “It’s like… you’re made of gold.” You finished.

None of you said anything for a moment, and for the first time in years, the silence bothered you. You placed a hand on his shoulder and got up from your chair.

“Get some rest. Things will be better in the morning.”

Before you could take a step, you felt Dean’s hand taking yours.

“Thank you.” And with that, he left you go to bed.


What did you think? I’m thinking about turning this into a series. Let me know!!

Thorin x Reader: The Fifteenth Company Member

Originally posted by tinysofia

(Author’s note:  Woohoo!  This was certainly a lot of fun to write! It was weird not to write in second-person pov, but I wanted to focus more on Thorin’s thoughts as he meets this woman and finds himself both irritated and impressed by her, so you can see how he becomes attracted to her. Hope you like it!!

Request: Thorinx(fem)reader where she is a beautiful warrior half dwarf half human invited by Gandalf to join the quest without Thorin’s knowing. At Bilbo’s home, her arrival makes Thorin hugely angry, which makes him yell at her, trying to make her give up on going along. But she is a super sassy insubordinated girl that bites back every harsh word. That makes Thorin even more furious but he can’t deny that he feels attracted to her.

 Gif is not mine, credit to original owner!)

    “I thought you said this place would be easy to find,” Thorin huffed as he stepped inside the hobbit home.  He raised a brow at Gandalf who towered very awkwardly over the group of dwarves.  “I lost my way….twice.” 

    Gandalf had only just shut the green, circular door when there was a tentative knock.  Thorin did not particularly like the subtle, sly smile the bearded mischief-maker wore.  It made him feel uneasy.  Thorin hated feeling uneasy.  He much preferred certainty of situations.

   “That would be our final Company member, right on schedule,” Gandalf announced, giving a small nod.

    “What do you mean?  All of the dwarves I summoned are here.”

    “I was hoping you would have arrived to Mr. Bilbo Baggins’ house a lot sooner so we could have discussed the matter before she arrived.”

    “She?”  Now Thorin was most certainly irritated.  What on earth was Gandalf going on about?  The Company leader folded his arms across his chest as Gandalf opened the door.  There stood a rather striking stranger, female, who stood in the doorway.  She donned a dark green tunic, ash-colored trousers, and a pair of brown boots.  She also wore a dark cloak, but had already pulled back the hood.  Her height and clothing suggested she was dwarvish, but she lacked a certain features such as facial hair, which was strange for a female dwarf.  

    “It’s about time you opened the door,” the woman said with grin.  “I was starting to think I had the wrong place”  She gave a respectful nod to Gandalf as she entered the house.  “Gandalf.”

    “It is good to see you, my dear,” he greeted with a warm smile.  “I hope your travel was swift and safe.” 

    “Indeed.”  She turned to look at Thorin, her eyes sweeping over his form briefly.  “You must be Thorin Oakenshield.”

    Thorin gave her a curt nod.  “And who might you be?” 

    “The name is ________,” she took a polite bow, “at your service.  Gandalf has summoned me to join your Company.”

  At that, the handsome leader gave Gandalf another incredulous look, lifting one eyebrow.  Gandalf ignored the expression and simply gestured for everyone to join the others in the dining room.  But Thorin would not have it. 

    “I demand to know what this woman is doing at a secret meeting such as this.  It is no place for her.” 

    “With all due respect,” she spoke up, though her tone suggested a lack of respect, “I understand that I am not a dwarf of the Blue Mountains, but I can assure you that I have as much a right to be here as any of the others.  Erebor was a home to my ancestors, and I intend to help reclaim it.”

   Thorin inwardly seethed at her quick and certain response, but he could not deny that her determination was admirable.  She had the spirit of a warrior, and he caught himself wondering just how skilled she was in battle.  He could picture her swinging a battle ax with strength and precision, her expression tightened with ferocity as she took out any and every foe that crossed her path…

    He shook the thought away rather angrily,  Who was this woman to speak to him in such a manner?  He was Thorin Oakenshield, future king of Erebor!

   “Why don’t we head into the dining room, and discuss the matter later?” Gandalf suggested in a friendly manner as he tried to defuse the situation.  But Thorin and _______ locked eyes, both their gazes burning as neither refused to back down.

    “You will not last a moment in the wild.” 

    “Because I am female?”  She scoffed.  “I can assure you, Thorin Oakenshield, I have done my fair share of traveling.  And fighting.”

    “Fighting, no doubt,” he quipped.  “Since you seem to have no hesitation in engaging in conflict with someone such as myself.  Your weapon of choice?”  He took a step towards her, folding his arms across his chest.

    “Ax and sword.  I have much experience with both.”  She mirrored his actions, stepping forward and folding her arms as well.

    They stood directly in front of each other, their previous anger replaced by a newfound mutual respect and admiration.  Thorin smirked at her, convinced that he might as well let her join the Company since she would most likely come along whether he liked it or not.  At this point, he found himself fond of the idea.

    “Well, then, Ms. ________.”  He held out a hand.  “Welcome to the Company.”  A warmth filled him when she firmly took hold of his hand and shook it.  

     “Thank you,” she responded, smirking as well with a glint in her eye.  “I look forward to reclaiming our homeland.”        

Never Easy, But We Try

A/N: This is just a little fic about Maurice and the Prince bonding that I couldn’t get out of my head. Enjoy friends, and happy weekend!


The trip to Paris is not entirely a smooth one, through patchy forests and muddy, uneven terrain after a heavy rainstorm the night before. Still, from his view, the rain is far preferable to eternal snow. Unexpectedly, the wheels slam against yet another tree root that feels like a brick wall, sending the carriage and its passengers jostling–and nearly sending his stomach flying right out of his throat.

He moves to tighten his hold on the person next to him, who miraculously has managed to stay asleep through their entire morning ride. Belle’s head bobs up and down with the rhythm of the carriage, before falling, her weight nestled once more against the nook of his shoulder. Not that he’s complaining. 

He studies what he can of her serene profile, familiarizing himself yet again with the gentle curve of her jaw, the graceful slope of her forehead with those little valley lines that can only mean she’s deep in thought, even in her dreams. Out of some strange yet familiar, domestic habit, his fingers quickly sweep away that troublesome patch of hair out of her eyes, revealing her appealing little nose. He hadn’t thought noses could be appealing (generally speaking, they’re not the most attractive body part); but honestly, everything about her is alluring to him that he can’t stop himself from reveling in her quaint little nose. Regal–that’s what his fellow nobles at Versailles would call it. She has a regal nose.

As if judgement of a person’s station were solely dependent on outward appearance.

He swallows, feeling a knot tighten within his chest. 

There was a time when his view of the world comprised exactly that notion.

“Well,” Maurice huffs from the seat across from him, graciously pulling him from his thoughts, as the carriage settles back into a somewhat easy ebb and flow. “I haven’t had quite this much fun on a long journey since the night I stumbled upon your castle in the woods.”

“What are rocks compared to ravenous wolves?” he quips, before he can stop himself. He almost winces at his tone. Oh, he’s in fine form already. If he can’t even go half-a-day’s journey without uttering some derisive remark, how does he expect to resume the social graces required of him in Paris? All this time closed off from the outside world may have merely distorted his coarse behavior. 

But Maurice chuckles heartily, seemingly oblivious to his impropriety. “Just so.”

When he finally manages to tear his gaze away from Belle, he notices the calm, mischievous twinkle in his father-in-law’s eyes; and it’s a familiar, knowing look, one that tells him Maurice knows exactly what he’s said but doesn’t seem to mind–it’s a look that Belle seems to have inherited and perfected as a means of disarming him as well.

He clears his throat, trying to recover his manners. He’s unsure why he still feels the need to act so formally around Maurice. Perhaps it has something to do with feeling both like a host and a child in his company. “I’m glad you could join us, Maurice.”

Maurice smiles kindly. “Thank you for inviting me along. I haven’t been to Paris since…” His smile fades, and the carriage falls into solemn silence for a moment.

He clears his throat again, unexpectedly even more unsure than before. “I’m sorry. Belle told me…well, that is…”

“Oh, I know about your little magical excursion.” 

As Maurice raises a single, paternal eyebrow, he shuffles in his seat nervously. “Ah. Of course.”

They’re silent for a bit once more, until he remembers where his thoughts had been leading him. “I am…truly sorry. I can’t imagine leaving…the woman you love…” He glances back at Belle, suddenly overwhelmed at even the idea of having to leave her behind, to save a child that doesn’t exist yet. What an impossible choice.

Belle also seems to have inherited from her father the ability to read his thoughts so easily. “It was the hardest decision I have ever had to make,” says Maurice. And when he glances back up at the older man, Maurice’s gaze is fixed upon his daughter, his eyes a bit greyer, carrying some secret horror he cannot name. “But I…I couldn’t leave my baby girl to die. She came first. She always has.”

He has no idea what to say to that, except his heart positively rings with the truth of his father-in-law’s words.

“And besides, if I’d stayed, who knows…I might have ended up alone.”

He understands what that’s like. Had Maurice made a different, easier choice…who knows where any of them would be. Belle’s life has touched so many others. Perhaps it’s a selfish perspective, but he feels that her very presence has changed him the most. And he can’t imagine…a world without Belle seems unlovable and unlivable. His kingdom for a choice, the choice of a simple yet honorable artist. And he wonders, not for the first time, if perhaps he misjudged his own father for depriving him of the chance to say goodbye to his mother. Maybe his father was protecting him more than he realized. Maybe that seeming act of cowardice was really the one good thing his father ever did with his life. 

“Someday…when you have children, you will understand.”

He nods, though he’s not sure what he’s agreeing to. All he knows is he’s grateful in ways he doesn’t even know how to put into words. That ridiculously expensive education, and all he can come up with is, “Thank you, Maurice.”

Maurice frowns, and the man looks so much like Belle that he can’t help but smile a little. “Whatever for, my boy?”

He swallows. My boy. His remembers his own father calling him many things throughout his life, but never that. For being a good person. For being the father figure I never had.

Yet he simply settles for, “For saving her life.” And saving mine. “For welcoming me into your family after…” After everything I put you through. 

He sighs, the guilt of years past creeping up on him again. “I’m sorry,” he finally utters quietly.

Maurice frowns again, and he realizes with a start that he doesn’t see it. Maurice may be a wise father, but in many ways the man still carries the sweet innocence of a child. And once again, he finds himself involuntarily dreading introducing Belle and her father to the aristocracy he’s socially bound to reenter. He knows what they’ll think of their marriage, what they’ll think of Maurice. If Belle thought one small village could hold so much prejudice… It seems wrong, somehow, to bring Maurice back to a place filled with so much hypocrisy. He feels he’s finally beginning to understand why Belle has been so protective of him all her life. 

“I’m sorry for the way I treated you when we first met. I was a fool and…a great deal many other vulgar, unmentionable qualities.” Qualities they’re all going to have to experience again tenfold.

Maurice smiles, ever the patient soul. “You know, one day, you’re going to have to stop apologizing. It’s all been forgiven, my boy. It’s in the past. Besides, you’ve more than made it up to me by making my little girl so happy. Just treat her with all the goodness she deserves–as I know you will–and we’ll call it even.”

He’s reminded yet again, as he so often is, that Maurice is truly one of the best men he’s ever known. It’s obvious now why Belle grew into such a lovely person, with such a gracious figure to guide her and care for her. Maurice may not be gentry, but he possesses the natural generosity of a saint. Versailles doesn’t deserve him. 

And neither does he, he thinks.

“You deserve all the happiness in the world,” says Maurice. 

He starts. For a dreadful moment, he wonders if he’s uttered his thoughts aloud. Or perhaps it’s that mind-reading trick only Belle and Maurice seem to possess. Or it’s possible that it’s merely his own thoughts that have become so open, like a book to be read by the world. Stripped of his mountains of fur and devilish horns with claws to match, he no longer has a disguise to conceal himself beneath. And he’s severely out of practice hiding his feelings.

Still, he knows when to accept kindness offered at face value. 

The men share a smile, until Belle suddenly stirs, lifting her head from her slumber. Immediately, his eyes find hers as she wakes. 

“Oh, forgive me.” She sits up quickly.

He smiles, sweeping a bit of hair out of her face once more. “There’s nothing to forgive,” he answers quietly, just for her, Maurice partly forgotten for a moment. He knows how much she needed rest. She was up all evening before their departure, reorganizing the luggage system, while trying to manage the school accounts for Pierre Robert. 

Her eyes go wide as she glances out the window. “The country!” she cries. “Oh, I’d hoped we’d be near the city by now.”

“It is a long journey.” He tries to soothe her by running his hand across her back, and she does him the decency of at least pretending to be comforted, leaning back into his embrace with ease.

“One that you insisted that we drive for whatever reason.” She shoots him the look.

“Well, it did give us a chance to talk,” Maurice chimes in.

“I see. And what exactly have you two been discussing while I’ve been asleep?” She glances between the two of them, before settling on her father across the aisle. “Nothing embarrassing, I hope, Papa?” 

He has to bite his tongue to keep from laughing at her tone.

Maurice settles back into his seat with feigned innocence. “Me? Embarrass my daughter? I think not.”

Belle narrows her eyes before glancing back at him. “You would tell me if he said anything, wouldn’t you?”

He can’t help but tease her. “I believe in our vows we promised that we’d never lie to each other.”

She smacks his shoulder once. 


“You are as bad as he is,” she remarks, wearing a firm frown, but he can spot the easy humor in her eyes that give her away.

“Thank you. I take that as a compliment.”

In control VI

Originally posted by 5min


//Yixing x you

Word count: 1,692

Summary: Yixing loses his grip, both on the track and in his life, and you are a countersteer he needs to go straight again


It’s a horrible moment. Witnessing somebody struggling with a painful memory and past, impossible to atone for. Simply because there are no words to be said to such person. No way to comfort their mind, no secret method to calm their heart.

Keep reading


Serial killer Carroll Edward Cole was born on May 9, 1938, and was the first person executed by lethal injection in Nevada, on December 6, 1985. Cole was convicted of 13 lust homicides, but by his own admission, the full number was more like 34 or 35. The Carroll Cole case is very significant as a demonstration of the failure of the criminal justice system. While there were numerous instances of malfeasance in the case, the true culprit was a system that lacked contemporary technology. Cole committed dozens, if not hundreds, of crimes, in addition to the murders, throughout the United States. He was convicted in numerous local, state and federal jurisdictions, but was commonly a first offender because of the lack of a central depository of criminal behaviour.

Carroll Edward Cole was the third child of Laverne and Vesta Cole. The Great Depression forced Laverne Cole to move his family west in search for work. While the West Coast was the goal, Laverne found work in Richmond at the Kaiser Shipyard. Laverne joined the armed forces with the United State’s entry into World War II. Vesta enjoyed the ‘company’ of other men during her husbands absence, and would require Carroll to visit their home while she participated in extramarital affairs. Carroll was sown to secrecy under the threat of severe beatings. Best was physically and emotionally abusive of Carroll. She would dress him up in one of his sister’s frilly dresses, refer to him as her little girl, tease him about his feminine name, and make him serve refreshments to guests she invited to the family home. Vesta, in violation of California law, also refused to send Carroll to school. At an early age, a young female acquaintance aggressively knocked Carroll to the ground and sat on his face. When Besta observed the activity she pulled the girl off of Carroll and then proceeded to strike him in the face as if he was the aggressor rather than the victim. In a rage, Carroll crawled beneath the porch where he found and strangles a puppy.


In the early months of 1878 Stephen D. Richards was travelling with a new companion. They had been on the road for a few weeks when they had an argument. Richards shot his friend in the head, a nameless man from Iowa. This was the beginning shot of a serial killer. Richards grew up moving around, his family finally settling in Iowa. In his teen years he spent some time working at the Iowa Lunatic Asylum in Mount Pleasant, where he buried the dead patients.

“That took away to some extent my feeling and sympathy for mankind. I could stand by a man and see him die with no more feeling than I would have for a hog. When I left there… I didn’t care for anything and had no respect for human nature.”

After leaving the asylum he traveled around, trying to find purpose to his life. This is when he killed the man in 1878. “We had raised up in our blankets and had not put on our boots when I made some careless remark about a trifling matter. He says "That’s a damned lie.” “It’s a good thing you don’t mean all you say,” I told him. “But I do mean it,” he said. “You don’t want to mean it,” I said; and he picked up his revolver and saying, “Here is something that backs all that I say,” cocked it. I looked at him, and thought, “The fool acts as if he means to shoot,” and skipping out my little 33 I plugged him one in the head. That was the first trouble we had ever had"

He ended up in Kearney, Nebraska, where he landed himself in jail for a minor crime. There he met the wife of a horse thief named Mrs. Harelson. She invited Richards to visit her once he was free and this led to him visiting her often, enjoying her lifestyle, company and most of all, her home. He decided to murder Mrs. Harelson and her family, 2 daughters and a baby son, so he could claim their home as his own.

In October of 1878 Mrs. Harelson made plans to move to Texas to join her husband. She also made a deal with Richards to sell him the house. Soon after, in the early morning hours of an early November day, Richards snuck in and killed the entire family with an axe. He buried their bodies on the property then took off to sell some of their stuff. The next day he returned and took over the Harelson household. Everyone assumed she and her family had moved to Texas so he got away with it.

He got comfortable, even made a new friend, a neighbor named Peter Anderson. On December 8th or 9th of 1878, Anderson got sick from some of his new friend’s cooking. He thought he had been poisoned by Richards, which wasn’t the case, but confronted him about it anyways. Richards reacted by beating Anderson to death with a hammer. Later he would claim poison wasn’t his style.

After killing Anderson he fled east and was captured in Mount Pleasant, Ohio. He was sent back to Kearney where he was hanged on January 15, 1879. Before he died he wrote some biographical articles for local newspapers in which he confessed to another murder of a man who tried to rob him. Though he is suspected of more murders, it is known for sure that during 1878 Stephen Richards started killing and by year’s end had taken 6 lives.

Pictured above: a knot that is supposedly from the rope used for Richard’s execution, an old map of Nebraska at the time, where Nebraska is in America and lastly a hatchet from the 1800s which was probably like the one he used on the Harelsons. I looked for more pictures but I found none related to the case, not even newspaper articles. If you happen to know of some resources that might help me locate some pics or newspaper pages about this story certainly let me know.

for @monsieur-sangoire who wanted a fantasy AU Bakugou taking in an injured reader and growing closer to them and asking them to join him. (I hope this is somewhat well enough and kind of what you wanted)

Bakugou prowls through the camp he set up and some of the other bandits throw him half-salutes or nods in greeting. He barely pays attention to half of his underlings, only meets the eyes of his closest friends and trusted comrades, before he steps into his tent and towards the one resting inside.

The person he found on one of his patrols with some of his companions looks like they’re ready to leave soon. They warned him and his group of an impending attack and of a mole in their rows – both of their claims have turned out to be true once Bakugou checked it out.

That stranger warned them and risked an attack by the guards, has come as a bit of a surprise. The locals don’t really mind him and his group, since Bakugou has no interest in harassing them.

No, he’s here for the knights and the royal guards and all the blue-bloods that travel through the forest and mountain pass he claimed as his. It’s the fight with the warriors that he wants and the gold and other things they steal are just a nice bonus to him.

The bleeding wounds of the person who warned them have healed over nicely and by now, Bakugou has come to know them rather well. Their name, where they came from and what brought them here. If anything, Bakugou found himself breaking out into a laugh once or twice thanks to their company and while they take no shit from him, they also don’t look down on him or treat him without respect.

Settling down on his own furs, Bakugou turns to them. “So, looks like you’re finally fucking healthy enough to walk again.”

They nod, giving him a small smile. “Thank you, for saving me.”

He scoffs. “It’s fucking repay for your information. Besides, I don’t like people bleeding out in my forest, at least when I don’t have a hand in it.” He shrugs and feels the scowl on his face lighten, when they give him a lightly bigger and warmer smile.

Okay, damn, he fucking likes them. Somehow, between him grouching at them not to aggravate their wounds and them having more and more conversations with him, he grew used to their company. He likes to have them around, though he won’t say it out loud.

“Will I have to leave soon?” They ask, sobering up. Bakugou feels a light twinge at the thought in his chest and grits his teeth for a moment.

“Like I fucking care.” He says and shrugs. “You could join us.”

They give him a surprised look and he frowns. “What?”

“I could stay?” They ask, sounding like they didn’t expect him to invite them.

Bakugou exhales and drags a hand through his hair, grumbling under his breath for a moment before he looks them squarely in the eye.

“Of course you could fucking stay. I’m damn asking you to.” He straightens. “So? Your answer?”

They slowly break out into a grin and Bakugou finds himself mirroring it. “Yes, I’ll stay.”

He huffs out a laugh. “Fucking perfect. Now rest up, you’re still frigging injured.”

Learning How to Love, Childhood Friends AU

Hey everyone! Sorry I’ve been so inactive as of late, university and family are kicking my ass and I’ve had a few more obligations than usual. I plan to get back to the original story ASAP, but wanted to offer this to any mystic messenger newcomers or past readers in the meantime. This particular piece was a special gift for my amazing friend @talesofbiro that I found while I was preparing for the next chapter of LHTL, and forgot that I didn’t share it here. Since I’m rather fond of this particular work, I figured I’d do so now. I hope you all enjoy it, and a very happy new year to you all despite my acute absence for the start of it!

Note: MC will be referred to as Ha-Yun in this story in the third person instead of blanks or Y/N. There are only mild spoilers for Jumin’s route.

As usual, thank you so much to all who have read/liked/reblogged/replied to my original posts. I am beyond grateful for all the wonderful reactions and excitement that followed my previous chapters. 

Please don’t hesitate to let me know if you’d like me to tag you in future chapter posts, as I am more than happy to do so!

To those of you who haven’t read the first chapters of LHTL or the Vampire Jumin fic and would like to, here are links to each:

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Vampire Jumin: Of Secrets and Love

Vampire Jumin NSFW

Cavities are coming kiddies, it’s time for the sweet hurt/comfort fluff!

The Power of a Flower

Thirty minutes before his next lesson, and the monotony was as stifling as ever. He stared listlessly at the slate walls of the C&R lobby where he was told to wait with Driver Kim, anticipating his new tutor’s arrival to drive him to the Han residence. His father had wanted to show him around the office today. And though it was fun to be led around and told with sincere gravity the importance of his future, he was going back to the mansion soon. A place filled with empty rooms and an even more vacant, perpetually smiling staff; each robotic inquiry regarding the state of his health more unsettling than the last. As proud as he was to fulfill his father’s legacy, he couldn’t help the restlessness in his limbs at the prospect of returning home. He wished he could spend more days talking with Jihyun, or sitting in the garden to read, or simply spending some time with his thoughts. But whenever he expressed that desire to his father, he was always met with the same response.

“This is for your own good, Jumin,” He would say, patting his shoulder affectionately. “I know you’ll be an even greater director than I am someday. You’ll have plenty of time for that when summer comes along.”

Jumin never had the heart to argue with his father after that, conceding that he had a fair point. There would be plenty of time; meanwhile he had a necessary role to fulfill.

So he waited, ever the loyal and diligent son everybody decided he was. Eventually, Driver Kim went to retrieve the car while Jumin was left behind with the security guard as usual; a huge, vigilant mass towering before him. Under the familiar shadow Jumin let out a small sigh, his shoulders curling in as he waited. Before he could wonder what level of algebra he would be met with today–always a fascinating challenge–he jumped when a finger prodded his shoulder. Brows furrowing, he turned to meet a pair of sapphire eyes shining back at him curiously.

There stood a little girl in faded jeans and a cerise shirt patterned with ivory flowers, like the kind that grew near the playground he and Jihyun so often frequented. He frowned as a measure of apprehension deadened his limbs, confusion invading his thoughts as he wondered what it was she wanted. Another little girl and her mother trying to play house again, perhaps?

“Hiya! What’s your name?” She asked brightly from the other side of the bench.

He blinked, surprised. Had she never seen a tabloid? He fiddled with the little cufflinks at the end of his sleeves, a gift from his father. “Jumin Han.” The cool, regular shape of the smooth metal soothed him.

“I’m Ha-Yun!” She smiled when he finally responded.

He stared at her and she giggled at his blank look. Either she was of a separate mind all together, or she was incredibly bubbly by nature. Regardless, he couldn’t help but find the optimism infectious despite lingering skepticism, his shoulders relaxing in the confines of his suit as he followed her beckoning to the adjacent main hall.

“My papa’s busy fixing the lights in the offices, so I came exploring! It was boring in those big gray squares.” She grimaced as she remembered, as if the thought had been torture enough. “But I heard there was a pretty garden at the very tippity top of the building.” She whispered the last part conspiratorially, as if it was meant for his ears alone as she held out her hand. “Want to come see it with me?” It was an earnest request, no threat of unspoken disapproval or forced kindness in a single syllable. She just wanted to go see flowers, if her shirt was any indication.

He gazed at her hand for a long moment, unable to understand why he was even considering risking his father’s rage over a random stranger’s proposition. Perhaps it was something about the way those eyes sparkled at him, joyous and unrepentant. She was not in the least unsettled by his apathetic mien or the consequences sure to follow such a reckless decision. But most of all, maybe it was the way she had approached without a moment’s hesitation to invite him along for an adventure; to her Jumin Han was little more than a name, just another boy at school or on the playground.

“Do you know where the garden is?” Jumin asked quietly, still a bit wary despite his decision to join her.

She lowered her hand and shook her head, but she was no less unperturbed. “Nope, but I know the elevator had a map next to it!”

He raised a brow as he followed her with measured steps towards the company elevator at the end of the hall, surprised at how observant she was. People that had worked here for years knew nothing of the garden at the top of the building, yet she had pinpointed the location in a matter of seconds in the short time she was here. No less than that, she had also chosen a time in which the halls were veritably empty, as most employees had now returned to work after the collective lunch break that left them meandering and dashing about the building.

He watched with mild amusement as she moved as stealthily as possible, looking back and forth and grinning whenever she noticed him behind her. She was already staring at the map when he neared her position, leaning forward to trace the floor number. He gazed with fascination at the waves of hair that obscured her face–a warm golden brown like the gourmet chocolate his father loved so much–with a few strands here and there lighter than the base color. His hand lifted to touch it, enthralled with the hue, until he remembered that it wasn’t acceptable behavior and began fiddling with his cufflinks again. He didn’t want to make her uncomfortable just to satisfy his curiosity.

“This one! Floor eighty-three!” She declared triumphantly, pressing the ascension button on the elevator and tapping her foot as she waited, her head oscillating to a silent rhythm.

She was so different from the other children he’d met; in her own little world despite sharing this moment with him, content to stand beside him in the silence. But then, perhaps he had little room to speak. He often overheard his instructors and father say the same thing about him with various levels of approval. And her disposition didn’t seem estranging so much as endearing. He wanted to be here and share in this moment with her, wanted to discover more about why she wanted to see flowers and why there seemed to be music in her mind and why she had asked him to come along. He had so many questions and yet he had no voice to ask them no matter how welcome she made him feel; afraid that a single word from him would break the spell and she would disappear, as fleeting as she was captivating. Instead he simply waited alongside her, entering as the door opened and watching her press the floor number with a spring in her step.

As soon as the doors closed he approached the console and utilized the override his father often did to ensure they could get to the desired floor without any interruptions, holding down the door-closing key until they arrived. Ha-Yun stared at his outstretched hand and flat expression inquisitively, but otherwise made no move to stop him.

When they reached their destination without incident she jumped out of the elevator as Jumin exited with sure footsteps, the doors slinking closed behind them. He flexed his numb fingers to coax the feeling back into his arm as she stood frozen mere steps away from the threshold, taking everything in for a long moment. He watched her expression morph from curious excitement to breathless awe, enchanted by the enormous window panes letting in every last shred of sunlight and illuminating the room full of flowers of every hue. From roses, to orchids, to lilacs, to zinnias, to any flower imaginable; they were all here. And by the looks of it, Ha-Yun hadn’t expected such a stunning arrangement or thorough display, a veritable rainbow of blossoms there for her perusal.

Jumin simply observed, her inability to decide where to start adorable. But she did eventually make a beeline for the white ones, searching the flowerbed for something as she scoured every inch. Silent as a shadow he waited, his ears trained on the elevator. He might not be in all that much trouble for wandering off, but that didn’t mean she wouldn’t be without the proper authorization. If anybody asked, it would be a simple matter of explanation that he was the one to suggest the excursion while she was the one to follow.

“Found it!” She hopped up with a small bloom in hand, cupping it gently in her hands and cooing over her find as he looked on with fond satisfaction.

He was taken aback when her head rose and sought him out, cobalt eyes fixating on his still form before she rose from her crouched position and approached him. His hands immediately sought out his cufflinks, restless digits pushing the metal squares in and out of their niche until she was about a foot away from him. With deft fingers, she reached forward to tuck her favorite flower into his caught pocket right beside the lilac handkerchief his father had gifted him a few months ago. He blinked and looked down as she retreated, intrigued by the star-shaped blossom peaking out from the onyx fabric.

“There,” She murmured, a soft smile on her face. “It matches your suit perfectly, I had a feeling it would.”

When he looked back to her, he noticed the flower on his chest matched the ones strewn across the bottom right corner of her shirt. “What is it called?” He asked, before he could think to wonder why the information mattered.

She had already begun perusing the orchids when she turned around to find him caressing the flower with delicate strokes of his thumb. “Jasmine, it’s my favorite!” She replied cheerfully, grinning at the sight of a faint blush on his pale cheeks.

As she continued to explore each section he returned to where she was searching before, looking for another jasmine blossom. Nothing seemed to meet his standards until he found one shaped to perfection, picking it with extreme care while he waited for her to finish. He settled for watching the wonder bloom across her face each time she recognized a familiar flower, enraptured and more beautiful than any of the silken petals surrounding her. He felt no impatience with this uncharacteristic indolence, only indulgent contentment as his silver eyes followed her unerringly. From time to time she would beckon him to observe her find, too ecstatic to keep it to herself; and each and every time he would appreciate the discovery with her. When she had finally had her fill she spotted him and trotted back with a sheepish smile, eyeing the sun’s progression in the sky with a measure of trepidation.

“We should probably get back,” She explained, concern creasing her features. “Papa will be worried. And I’m sure your papa will be looking for you too. I’m sorry I kept you so long…”

But Jumin shook his head, holding out the jasmine he picked out with a small smile. “Not at all, I enjoyed myself.” He murmured, reaching out tentatively until he shrank back when her eyes widened. But she just leaned forward, letting him place the bloom behind her ear. “Thank you for today.”

She beamed at him and took his hand within her bronze one, leading him out of the garden towards the elevator. He felt a foreign warmth pervade him from head to toe as they walked together, starting from where their hands were joined and unlike any other bliss he had ever known as her fingers closed over his. He had never felt so…comfortable, so connected to another person in his life. He had his father, who loved him dearly but was rarely ever present. There was his mother, who was often more preoccupied with keeping her figure and the latest Lucy Button handbag than being anywhere near him. There were the attendants at home who were all too afraid of losing their position to speak to him earnestly. The only bond that could rival the feeling was the one he shared with Jihyun; but there was a distinct difference he couldn’t quite place, a variation he had no name for. But it ceased to matter as they entered the elevator, the thought lost as they descended back down to the lobby. Instead, he became plagued by the thought that he may never see her again, his hand tightening slightly over hers. As soon as he did she looked over and noticed his crestfallen expression, the radiance now gone as his free hand tugged at his cufflinks.

“Jumin?” She asked. Shocked, he blinked, removed from his train of thought as he looked up with wide eyes.


“We’ll meet again someday, so please don’t be sad. I’ll make sure of it, I promise!” Fierce determination hardened her expression as she gazed at him, a stubborn will that went unmatched by any he had ever seen before. So much so that he felt no doubt–despite what his usual pragmatism suggested–that she would find a way. Looking up to her tall form it almost seemed like she could move mountains to do whatever she pleased, and she was more than clever enough to achieve any aspiration with her perceptive nature. He’d always been so used to others looking to him for guidance, others expecting him to lead and decide how things must proceed that it was strange to meet an equal. She didn’t need anybody to make a decision for her, she could have taken that journey alone and been just fine.

Which begged the question: why did she ask him to come along? She didn’t seem like the type to grow lonely no matter how much she enjoyed extraneous company. So what was it that made her ask him? Had she known who he was and what that meant all along? But she was too sincere for that, nothing about their adventure felt forced so much as done on a whim within a window of opportunity.

Before he had the chance to ask the doors slid open to reveal the back of his father’s trademark suit, a finger tapping against his arm as he stood next to Driver Kim. Jumin sighed, knowing the coming hours wouldn’t be pleasant but unable to feel any bitterness or regret. He was always cautious to follow the rules, one incident wasn’t a cause for too much trouble. The worst that would happen would be an acute scolding and a demand to make up the work he missed. Otherwise his father trusted disobedience was more a matter of circumstance than haphazard rebellion, and no cause for severe retribution.

“I’ll see you later! Thanks for everything!” She enthused before she scampered off towards the stairs, climbing up three steps at a time to wherever her father likely was. He resisted the urge to go after her and make sure she didn’t hurt herself, wishing she had stayed just a moment longer. Shaking his head, he approached the pair of men and explained where he’d been, stoic and neutral as ever though his father glared with vehement disapproval. Jumin was surprised, however, to find that his gaze softened when he mentioned Ha-Yun’s desire to go see the garden, evidence of their excursion clear on his suit. Rather than a berating he was met with boisterous laughter and a clap on the back, pride beaming from his father’s face. Though Jumin didn’t quite understand why at the time, he figured it was better than being met with vitriol over something as trivial as a day’s lessons lost.

He never imagined that the magnitude of his father’s retribution would be nothing compared to the years of wondering if he’d ever see her again. As a boy his days were spent searching the playgrounds and streets for that mysterious flow of hair, memories of the sun-kissed shade of her skin chasing him as he watched the other children play tag among the flowering jasmine. Though the chances of encountering her were low, her fervency made him hopeful. He often spoke to Jihyun about what happened, appreciating his insight and optimism that he would see her again. The heart was a funny thing; no matter how focused he was his instructors would often find curious doodles of star-shaped blossoms in the corners of his worksheets.

But years passed and the potency of the memory diminished, his months consumed by preparation and study for his future position as director of the company. He would come to the decision that there was nothing to gain by seeking her out and holding on to that hope. There was no time for something impossible and futile. If she hadn’t appeared in over a decade, the likelihood that she would return was infinitesimal, and therefore negligible. It ceased to matter, and thoughts of her became scarce; she simply became another unreconciled disappointment to bury among the rest.

There would be those off days, however; as he was walking the streets surrounding the C&R building or attending another gala, when he would hear her name clear as a bell. And his head would whip around to the source, slate irises ravenous for a glimpse of her as they tore through the immediate vicinity. But it was only a lesson on how emotions made a person foolish and overzealous, his gaze pinpointing a stranger much too young or much too old to be the Ha-Yun he’d been expecting. Their hair was always the wrong color and their eyes didn’t sparkle the right way and they were woefully inattentive. Eventually Jumin couldn’t be sure what hurt more; the fact that it was not her or the fact that he could never erase the hope that it someday would be.

Just as he was beginning to defeat the habit the RFA gained a new member by sheer chance, an unexpected intruder approved by V. Though the circumstances surrounding the young woman’s entry were highly suspicious, her words were so resolute and shrewd that he had trouble believing she was a potential threat. She sounded more like a remarkable individual ensnared in a number of unfortunate circumstances, equally as confused as the other members.

Her name? Ha-Yun.

The shock struck him so hard when V addressed her that the phone fell from his hands to his desk, his blank stare looking past the dimming screen. No, he insisted, it couldn’t be. It was just another coincidence. Probability was being cruel, as per usual.

But it didn’t stop him from monitoring her responses to the members closely each day, including himself. And she proved to be perceptive, witty, and jovial; all things reminiscent of her. Even greater than that, it felt as though that tenuous connection he remembered feeling had been rekindled and strengthened with every shared conversation. He often found himself waiting during the day for the moments in which he could join the messenger, knowing that she would be there. It became a safer place for discussion than he could ever remember the chats being, his words met with equal enthusiasm and meaningful intent. Much to the RFA’s consternation, they often grew absorbed in their discourse and shared similar views no matter the opposition they faced from the others.

For the first time in what felt like ages, he didn’t feel alone.

As the saying went, however, nothing gold can stay. The excitement of her arrival was drowned in a surprising change of heart from his father, his newest companion demanding that Jumin marry her student. Convinced that it would better both Jumin and the company, his father implemented drastic and invasive measures to force his hand. No matter how many times Jumin protested with legitimate concerns and reasonable explanations that it was neither fair nor productive to force a marriage with a near nonexistent company, he would have none of it.

At an absolute loss Jumin confided in the messenger, his only resource left. Unsurprisingly, most of the RFA assumed he was exaggerating. How forceful could his father truly be? What of Assistant Kang’s increasing work load? He was just faking and complaining, other people had more difficult things in life to contend with. And perhaps they were right, his concerns were often of a smaller magnitude compared to those of lesser means.

But Ha-Yun vehemently opposed every word of it. She declared that it was Jumin’s right to decide what made him happy in life, that defying his father’s demands didn’t make him an unreasonable son or a terrible person. When his father’s betrayal had been overwhelming, she believed every word of his retelling and the genuine anguish the events had elicited. Above all else, when everybody had either doubted or abandoned him she had planted her feet at his side and extended a hand, tenacious and unshakeable in her desire to help him. Even when there was nothing he could do for her–he couldn’t even do something as simple as send her a bodyguard to watch over her under the threat of the hacker–she stayed. And it no longer mattered if she was the original Ha-Yun or not. All he knew was that she cared more for him than anybody ever had in his life, and that he wanted to keep her in his life.

He never anticipated that she would be the one to come to him, under Assistant Kang’s request no less. When he opened the door to the penthouse–confused and paranoid and desperate–there she stood. Much to his dismay, all he could do was stare, his vocal chords failing him indefinitely. Calm and radiant, she met his eyes without any measure of discomfort or reluctance.

“Hello Jumin,” Her smile was thoughtful and kind, with a hint of apology. “I’m sorry I kept you waiting so long.”

Brows furrowed, he opened his mouth to reassure her that he understood how cumbersome afternoon traffic could be, until her hand rose to place an obscuring strand of hair behind her ear. Doing so revealed animated sapphire eyes blazing with intensity and conviction, and a hair clip adorned with an intricate jasmine. All he could do was stare for a long moment, feeling as though he’d been sucker punched.

“Ha-Yun?” He managed to say, breathless.

She beamed at the recognition in his voice, “That’s me!” She affirmed before she sobered. “It’s great to see you again, Jumin. I could only wish it had been under better circumstances. Are you sure you’re okay?”

And all of a sudden, everything made sense. Because “Want to come see it with me?” sounded strangely identical to “Are you sure you’re okay?” She hadn’t been lost or confused or lonely that day. On the contrary, she had been worried about him.

Without thinking he reached out and tugged her into a tight embrace, holding her close by the waist as he buried his face in her hair. “Now I am.” He murmured lowly, as if he couldn’t bear another second mere inches away from her. Steady hands reached around to his back, soothing him with light, ataractic strokes; not in the least unsettled by his gesture. Almost as if she had wanted to hold him just as much as he wanted to hold her. The thought filled him with a hope he didn’t think he would feel ever again. “Thank you for everything, Ha-Yun.” 

Tagged: @protectjuminhan @likeaquietfantasy @ofmeldingdays @bunnycatalina @jetblckcrow @blakerose-blog @catchthespade @catm3imi @directorjumin @velvet-colored-brick @lowenchikapow @golden-kaori13 @dreams-of-a-immortal @pikachupnk @the-sloth-woman @saitoukinichirou @yoruwasu @princeyoosung @kachangasin @raechelpapaya @noctias @jukaanah @dlytrbl @naomi-pjmh @sinfulinsecret @down-the-rabbit-hole-oh @pockiemon @elantil-arcacia @mysticprincess91 @storia05 @queenphantomhive

chapter 2

Rich || Jaebum

Originally posted by mixedangel

Reader (you) x Jaebum ft Jinyoung

Word Count: 1902

Genre: fluff, suggestive (not really lmaoo) 

note: oh my goodness! thank you for giving this series so much love! i honestly thought this would be a flop because of the boring storyline. have a great day everyone and happy reading! -admin

“I can sleep on the streets, Jinyoung. I really am fine.” I said again, after multiple tries of convincing Jinyoung. I didn’t want to live anywhere else except Jinyoung’s place or mine. This guy, Jaebum, felt a bit uneasy for me. Maybe because I didn’t know him and he was a complete stranger to me.

“(Y/N), Jaebum is a good man. Trust him. He’s the boss’ son so he’s pretty well mannered.” Jinyoung stated as his hand took mine. My cheeks started to rise in color as Jinyoung held my hand. We were in an elevator meaning no one could see us. It was just Jinyoung and I.

“Boss’ son?” I chuckled under my breath. “Let me guess, he’s from a rich family too.”

“Well his father owns the company, babe. Of course.” Jinyoung smiled as his arms slowly tugged my waist. His face tucked in the crook of my neck as my heart started to beat fast.

“Jinyoung-ah.” I breathed out as his hands grabbed my ass, giving it a good squeezed. I slightly gasped under my breath as Jinyoung continued to touch me. Soon enough, our faces were merely inches away from each other, his eyes turning a slight shade darker than before.

“I trust him enough to take care of you, babe. You know I wouldn’t let any man lay a hand on you. It’s just for a few days then, I can have you all for myself.” Jinyoung whispered as his lips grazed against mine.

I leaned in, connecting our lips together as we moved in sync. The warm heat spread through my body as I forgot all the troubles of the world. His hands tugged my hair as I moaned in between the kiss. My hands, tangled in his hair, as we shared a passionate kiss. The elevator soon came to a stop and we both suddenly pulled away from each other.

“Text me before you go to sleep.” Jinyoung whispered in my ear as he kissed my cheek.

“If I make it to bed alive.” I joked as I left Jinyoung in the elevator, walking into a wide parking lot. Sighing to myself, I waited for Jaebum to pull up with his car, just like he told me a few minutes ago. I furiously tried to fan my face since I started to feel hot after the makeout session with Jinyoung. Soon, a black car pulled up with the windows rolled down.

“Get in the car. We don’t have all day.” Jaebum stated inside the car. I gave him a weird look as I entered the car. Without a word, he drove off into the night with the radio playing in the background. A few moments of silence passed as I tried to get rid of the awkward tension by listening to the song played on the radio.

“Flustered?” I heard Jaebum chuckled under his breath, breaking the silence. “Don’t worry, I’ll keep your dirty little secret.”

“Excuse me?” I exclaimed, raising my voice in disbelief. Self-consciously, my hands touched my face as I felt heat rise up again.

“You and Jinyoung. Is this a friends with benefit thing or you’re secretly dating behind the Park family?” Jaebum asked, slightly smirking as he drove rather quickly down the road.

“I’m not answering that.” I replied coldly as I looked outside the window. Jinyoung said that Jaebum was a well mannered guy but, I see someone different. Right now, Jaebum gave me a rude and arrogant vibe. But how on earth did he know about Jinyoung and I? It wasn’t that obvious was it?

“You’ll answer it eventually with your actions.” Jaebum said. I rolled my eyes and kept silent throughout the whole ride. Jaebum was adding on to the problems I had to deal with for the next few days. His rude actions was something I had to get use to. Although, he may be incredibly hot, he was someone that played with girls heart. And I could see it in his eyes.

We arrived at a large gate that covered most the the area. Jaebum had to press a few buttons on the side before the gate opened to reveal a large modern house. I immediately hopped off the car, once we stopped, and entered the house that Jaebum owned. It was breathtaking. It was bigger than Jinyoung’s house and much more prettier. Then I thought to myself, maybe it wasn’t so bad living here.

“Get comfortable. Do whatever you want. Your room is on the second floor to your right.” Jaebum firmly stated before he walked off in the other direction and into a room. I sighed to myself as I tried to soak in the situation. If this was how I’m going to live for the next few days, I better get use to it.

Walking around, I came to the large kitchen that anyone could dream of. What I’ve seen at Jinyoung’s house were people who cooked for him, always occupying the kitchen. Jaebum had no one in his kitchen meaning that he cooked his own meals. Or that his maids went home since it was pretty late at night. Suddenly getting an idea, I started to walk over the kitchen and look around for food.

“What are you doing?” A voice from behind asked, causing me to slightly flinch. I turned around to look at Jaebum leaning against the wall. His shirt was half buttoned and his face was full of exhaustion. He looked incredibly sexy the way he was at the moment but, I didn’t let that distract me. My heart was with Jinyoung and will remain that way.

“You said I can do whatever I want. So, I’m cooking.” I stated as I grabbed two bowls of ramen that I found in the cupboards.

“You’re cooking two bowls of ramen. How are you going to finish it all?” He asked, raising an eyebrow at me. I looked at him and raised the two bowls in my hands, giving him a unimpressed look.

“One for you. One for me.” I huffed out as I continued to search for utilities in the kitchen.

“I don’t eat at around this time, baby girl.” Jaebum smirked as he ran his fingers through his hair, ruffling it a bit making him look even better. I couldn’t tell if my hormones were making me act differently but, Jaebum knew how to make a girl weak to the knees.

“Good,” I beamed at him, ignoring my thoughts, “More for me.”

I heard Jaebum chuckle under his breath as he exited the kitchen. Taking in a deep breath, I started to cook two bowls of ramen, hoping that Jaebum would join me because of the yummy smell. But then I suddenly asked myself why was I doing this. Jaebum was a stranger, who invited me inside my house, and was a complete asshole. And here I am thinking about him joining me for dinner, like it was a date.

Snap out of it, I thought to myself as I started to cook. I can’t let Jaebum mess with my feelings, especially when I was dealing with some problems myself.

I sat down with my phone in hand, while I ate my ramen. I texted Jinyoung for awhile, hoping to get some company since Jaebum shut me out. Also, I started to make a plan to build up my foundation again. Looking at different banks that could loan me money, I heard footsteps enter the kitchen. My eyes slightly looked up to see Jaebum mindless wandering around the area.

“I thought you didn’t eat around this time.” I said, looking down at my phone again.

“Well it smelt good from my office and it made me hungry.” Jaebum replied as he took the pot from the stove and sat down in front of me.

“Good thing I made extras.” I stated, not looking up from my phone. We both ate in silence as I tried to distract myself with my phone. I couldn’t look up at Jaebum since I knew he would make me feel weak. It was weird because I never had that kind of feeling with Jinyoung before. And here, sitting in front of me, was a man who made me feel different emotions. He hasn’t even touched me and I’m already hot for him.

Mentally, I shook away the thoughts that clouded my head and tried to finish my meal. I was almost done with my meal until a hand came in contact with the corner of my mouth. I looked up, in shock, as I watched Jaebum wipe away the food stuck on my face. Suddenly, I felt heat rush to my cheeks as I observed Jaebum.


“You had food on your mouth.” Jaebum smiled as he sat back down on his seat and continued to eat his meal. I looked at him like he was insane but actually, he was kind man. He made me feel acceleration go through my body as his hand came in contact with my face. Was it bad that I wanted more?

“Uh, thanks.” I mumbled out of my mouth as I quickly stood up from my seat. Why was I feeling so hot at the moment? Was it Jaebum’s stare or was it from the ramen? At this point, I couldn’t decipher what I was feeling. Maybe a quick shower could help me sort my thoughts.

I quickly tried to find the bathroom, hoping to get rid of Jaebum from my mind. After a couple minutes of running around, I stripped my clothes and turned on the facquet of the shower. The warm water flowed from my face down to my body. My forehead and hands pressed against the cold, tiled wall as I close my eyes, cherishing the feeling of the warm water hitting my back. I took my time to relax in the warm water as I slowly cleaned my body. And what seemed like an hour, I stepped outside the shower and wrapped a towel around my body.

I took a peek outside the bathroom door, hoping Jaebum wouldn’t be near by. Since I had only a towel wrapped around my naked body, I had to run quickly to my room. Gently closing the bathroom door, I walked slowly down the large hallway. Then making a sharp turn, I came into contact with a large figure.

“What the fuck?” I cursed under my breath as I started to realize I was losing my balance. I gripped my towel, holding it together as I felt arms wrapped around my waist to save me from falling down. I looked at person who saved me and widen my eyes.

Jaebum’s eyes came into contact with mine as he pulled me up so we were inches away from each other. His eyes made their way down to my part lips as my heart started to race. Leaning in, he grabbed my face and forced me to look up at him.

At this moment, I started to feel hot again. My breathing started to become heavier as Jaebum’s lips were so close to mine. This was a new feeling I never had with Jinyoung. I wanted him closer. I wanted him to touch me until I was weak to my knees. I wanted him to kiss me so badly until my lips bruised. And so, without even thinking, I leaned in.

Roommates? Pt.2 | Taehyung (Rated M)

A/N: Sorry for the wait. This would’ve been ready to release earlier last weekend but it was Harry Potter weekend and I’ve never missed one in like 3 years lmao and I was stumped writing in the context before the smut. I’m probably going to rewrite this later, but for now I hope the wait was worth something.

Word Count: 2,887
Genre: Smut, Oral, Biting
Scenario: Accidentally renting the same apartment w/ V

Part 1 


“Y-yah! You’re dripping water all over the floor!

“Let me sleep in your bed…”

“Taehyung please… I’m so wet…” 

Keep reading


here is the request!! thank you all for the support on my posts, it means a lot~ ♡

-FIRST!!!!! this dude here literally said he loVES SKINSHIP HIMSELF, SO EXPECT LOTS OF IT
-lots of kisses everYWHERE, ALL THE TIME
-at first it might have been overwhelming as he was almost always touching u. (ex. holding hands, arm around ur waist/shoulders, hand on ur arm etc)
-but u got used to it eventually, especially because he does this. constantly.
-studies ur face while cuddling, like he literally doesn’t look away which makes u blush hehe
-and when he sees u blush he smiles the cutest smile in the world
-runs his hands across your skin often !!!???!
-lowkey but not lowkey? aegyo~
-would probably treat u like a princess
-a caring sweetheart
-he usually won’t miss a chance to show u how much he loves and appreciates u
-but sometimes he might seem unemotional or uncommitted…. DON’T WORRY!
-he still loves u, it’s just how he may be sometimes
-an actual angel .
-BUT he loves to have fun and joke around w/ u A LOT
-likes to tease~
-his fave moments are when you are smiling
-there will never be a dull moment w/ him
-also very adventurous, so expect spontaneous and action packed dates and events!!!!
-literally up for anything .
-*@ 2am, u hear knocks on ur window* “y/n.. hey, let’s go out!!” “youngbin!!!! it’s 2am!!!!!!!!” “… so?”
-though he can also do chill dates, ex. meeting up in a coffee shop, stroll in the park
-can be v wild and carefree so u must (not only accept this) but control him . when it is needed 
-even w/ these traits, he will be sooooOo cautious to be gentle towards u
-and like mentioned before, he would be a caring bf so he does have a serious side to him
-like i BELIEVE if you ever got hurt, he would drOP EVERYTHING HE WAS DOING TO SEE IF YOU WERE OKAY
-and even if u don’t play, he wouldn’t mind just cause he likes your company
-sometimes its with his friends
-and ur just sitting on the side, cheering him on (which would make him the happiest person~!!!!!)
-or just u two at the court
-and when it is, bc ur a good sport, you would try to join in, but he just goes aLL OUT ON U
-though he likes to tease!!!! u while ur playing as well (ex. holding the ball up high so u can’t reach it, the typical keep away game ^)
-he thinks that it’s soOooOOooo cute when u get frustrated bc of him teasing u
-seems independent & he can be….
-but lowkey loves to feel loved, so u must show him the most !!!!!!!! love
-even if he doesn’t show that he enjoys it
-admires u when u aren’t aware with the CUTEST LOOK ON HIS FACE (ex. ur shopping together, and ur deep in thought trying to choose between two items)
-likes to feel like he is the dominant one in the relationship
-wants u to be comfortable all the time
-cause he knows he can be a bit !!!!wild!!!!, so he wants to know that you are ok w/ it
-will be ur #1 supporter in anything u do, literally a personal cheerleader
-can be blunt sometimes, but it is from the heart
-not only does he like to hear ur voice, but he is v curious and likes to know everything he can about u~
-v attentive 
-therefore he likes when you are open towards him ^^
-late night talks!!!!!!!!!
-always wants u two to have fun while loving each other unconditionally~

Originally posted by tiredwitch

Spirit: ???

Gender: Male? (I have been using “him” and he hasn’t corrected me so far..)

Type: Entity

Class: White Arts. His energy feels pure, but almost uncomfortably so. He dislikes Gray/Dark arts alignments/ spells/ magic

Description: Tall. Appears to be over six-feet (in the astral?), long, silver, fabulous hair, skin that reminds me of porcelain. He is very…fine-looking. He has a very sharp mouth and his eyes are…abnormal looking. Too bright? I thought he might be an Elf, but that doesn’t really feel right. 

Background Info: I visited his… home a while ago. There is a lake nearby and a forest across the lake. I was lost and searching for something. The lake began calling to me. It was so beautiful, and it told me if I crossed it I would find what I was searching for within the forest. I walked towards it, but before I could waddle into my untimely death, he grabbed me and took me to safety. Apparently, the lake is dangerous and the forest houses the rest of his people.

NOTE: Please do not try to go here. The lake is dangerous. I am also not entirely sure that he isn’t dangerous. His people do not like humans and I was not received warmly. 


I am in the lake again, near his home. I can see the see the cabin nearby, but I do not approach at first. Instead, I stare at the beautiful water, and think about what he has told me. According to him, the land in this place is temperamental, and the lake holds sway over how everything looks. Right now, it looks peaceful. The water is calm. There are orange lights floating, skimming the surface, dipping and swaying and dancing in the wind. I want to touch the water, to walk across the surface like he did.

Do not trust it, he said. I remember, but the warning is vague and faraway.

“It has been a long time since you last visited,” he tells me, as he suddenly appears right besides me. I guess I was so focused that I did not hear him approach. His voice is even and calm, and elegant, like the rest of him. He feels very tall besides me, and his cool hand rests on my shoulder. “You should not stare into the water so long, it will tempt you again.”

I shift my eyes away from the lake and try to ignore its soothing lull. “Sorry. I didn’t think you’d want me here…” I mumble. His energy is bright, but too light. After the things I have done with my magick, and with the kind of company I keep… visiting did not feel right.

“Your demon does not want you here, either.” There is no reproach in his voice; he does not sound offended. He’s just stating a fact.

I shrug. “V doesn’t like you, but he won’t stop me.”

“Then join me for some tea.” I do not like tea, but his offer sounds more like an order than an invitation, so I trail behind him.

His cabin is still small. There is a place for me to sit. “You knew I would be coming?”

“I thought you might.”

He offers me a small cup. The liquid inside is a murky colour, but the aroma is warm and pleasant. I think about what he told me before. About how accepting things is a contract, about how his name had power and, anyways, I could never speak it out loud. I don’t take a sip. “Why am I here again?”

He sighs. “The water touched you. It will not let you go.”

Focusing on our conversation is very difficult. My mouth feels stuffy and its almost like we are holding the  conversation underwater. I suspect the lake might have something to do with it. “V said…you were a liar,” I manage, trying to make sense of my thoughts. It’s so difficult.

“Your demon lies too.”

“I know. We all do…But I still trust him. Why did he say you were a liar?”

His face is still impassive. “I am happy you are being more cautious, but I am not trying to entrap you. Drink the tea.”

I do as I am told, because it just feels like the right thing to do. I don’t think he is a threat to me. At the very least, he has saved my life more than once. The liquid settles in my chest comfortably and the sense of being underwater recedes slightly.

He smiles. “It will stop the lake from calling to you.”

“Why did V say you were a liar? And…why are you being so nice?”

He makes a complicated expression. “Your demon is right to distrust me. But you shouldn’t. No harm will come to you from me, or from any of my people.”


He laughs. “You ask too many questions and don’t know how to listen for the answers. Leave now. Maybe I will tell you when you visit me again.”

“I might not come back,” I say, weakly. I do not mean it.

“Bring an offering next time. It’s not good to show up as an uninvited guest empty-handed.”


DA:I Companions react to the Inquisitor having a chronic illness.

Cassandra: She is surprised at first; the Inquisitor hides it well. But once she realizes, she does watch them more carefully, and she does notice how it affects the Inquisitor. She makes a point not to say anything openly, and when she can get the Inquisitor alone, she hesitantly asks them questions about their illness. She wants them to feel that they can confide in her if they need anything, and she promises to do all she can to take some of the load off of them. Being the Herald is hard enough as it is, after all. If romanced, she tries to force them to take it a little easier, going so far as to lock them in their quarters when she thinks they’ve outdone themselves. She even tries to massage them once or twice, but she is absolutely horrible at it (Although the Inquisitor never tells her that, they just happily oblige with a smile on their face.)

Varric: He figured something was up, but he could never quite put his finger on what it was. He remembered how Fenris used to get body aches from the lyrium infused in his body, and so whenever he notices the Inquisitor having a difficult time, he instantly starts up with a constant stream of jokes and stories that get the Inquisitor laughing and smiling. He knows it isn’t much, but he knows that it takes their mind off of things, even if just for a minute. And when the Inquisitor is having a rough night and can’t sleep, he is always there to keep them company with a mug of ale or a round of Wicked Grace.

Solas: He could tell that something was wrong with them from the start, but he knew it was not his place to say anything. At first he would covertly place helpful lotions and herbs in their quarters, and eventually (When the Inquisitor had opened up a little) he began to recommend other helpful remedies. His knowledge of the world was quite extensive. If romanced, he would spend his evenings pouring soft, cool magic through the Inquisitor’s body, helping to ease as much of the pain as he could, and trying to help them get as much sleep as their body needed.

Sera: She doesn’t really understand the illness, but what she does know is that the Inquisitor hurts, and all the noble pickiness and bickering wears on them a lot. So her friends tend to hit a lot of the people that have had bad dealings with the Inquisitor a little harder than before, and anyone that is rude ends up paying for it in the most humiliating ways possible. Her room in the tavern is also very comfortable with pillows everywhere, so she makes sure the Inquisitor knows that at any time they can come and relax in the fluffy softness. If romanced, she will literally drag them to her room and make them as comfy as possible (surrounded by pillows!), and bring them as many sweets and goodies as she can steal from the kitchens without getting into too much trouble. She wants to do everything she can to make her Inky feel better.

Vivienne: She was Imperial Enchanter, and it just will not do for anyone to think that the Inquisitor has some kind of weakness. So she is constantly dragging the Inquisitor to her quarters to teach them how to covertly hide their pain, how to pass off a twinge as nothing. If they are going to be the leader that Thedas needs, then they need to learn how to be an expert at the game, after all. And the first step is making sure no one can even have an inkling of their illness. If Romanced, she will even procure some of the most expensive and rare poultices you can find, and diligently makes sure that the Inquisitor keeps up on their health.

Blackwall: Being the gentleman that he is, he doesn’t bring it up until the Inquisitor does. But he is awful observant, and so he tends to try and take on a lot more of the manual labor when they are out and about (Carrying things, setting up camp, taking more blows). When they are having bad spells, he takes them down to the stables to pet the horses or takes them for a walk across the ramparts, nice and slow to try and ease some of the stress and pain. If romanced, he stays up with them at night when they cant sleep and they watch the stars together, holding hands and relaxing in the hayloft.

Iron Bull: He notices right away, thanks to his Ben Hassrath training. All the soft winces, how they try to hide it, how they walk even. He constantly offers to give them free massages to work out all their kinks and stress (with a wink, of course), and he offers them some of the lotions and creams that he uses on his own aching muscles. There have even been a few times where, when he notices how they are hurting, he will just pick them up and carry them, ignoring their complaints with a chuckle. If romanced, the Inquisitor takes him up on the offers for a massage, and is pleasantly surprised when the Bull turns out to be very gentle and very talented at it. Bull can have the Inquisitor sleeping soundly within a few minutes, and Bull will lay with them and rub their back the whole time, smiling down at them.

Cole: He can feel their pain, all the hurts and twinges and burning. It’s like a headache that is constantly lurking, hiding in the dark corners, waiting for a change to leap out. He always keeps himself tuned in to the Inquisitor, and when things are getting too bad he is there with encouraging words, and a little push from him, trying to make the pain a little easier to deal with. There is always a soft chair when it’s needed, a cool glass of water within reach. At night, when they can’t sleep, he will step into their dreams and chase away as much of the pain and hurt as he can, allowing them to actually rest their hurting body. It isn’t much, but he knows the extra sleep helps the Inquisitor a lot.

Dorian: He scoffs at the Southerners ways of handling illness. Haven’t they figured out all this by now? He jokes and laughs with the Inquisitor, but within a few weeks quite a handful of books from Tevinter end up in his quarters, and he digs up as much information as he can from his homeland about their illness. He shares all of this with them, along with some of the sweetest wine from Tevinter (That just so happens to put a happy buzz into the Inquisitor that chases quite a bit of the pain away.) and some of the softest blankets, pillows, and clothes he could get his hands on for his best friend. If Romanced, he is more than happy to set the Inquisitor down in his comfiest chair in the library (Preferably on his lap) and he loves to read to them and lull them off into a happy, blissful nap while he draws circles on their arm.


Cullen: He is shocked and impressed at how well they handle it. He knows all about dealing with illnesses, and he hesitantly shares his own experiences with Lyrium withdrawal and how he has been coping, and how a lot of other Templars coped with theirs. He invites them to join him in the cool hours of the morning and evening, where he teaches the Inquisitor a lot of good stretching exercises that help with a lot of bone and muscle pain. If they aren’t up for it, he is more than willing to keep them company with a good game of chess. If Romanced, he will take time out specifically to draw the Inquisitor a nice, warm (or cool, depending on how they are feeling) bath in their quarters, and he lovingly helps them rub their back and wash their hair, and helps them drift off to sleep.

Josephine: When she finds out, she does everything she can to keep the long politician visits to a minimum. If the Inquisitor doesn’t absolutely have to deal with it, she will deal with it herself to spare them. She makes sure that the Inquisitor has one of the best beds that good money can afford, along with other comfy furniture so they have somewhere nice to relax. She only brings the important things up to the Inquisitor when they are having a good health day. If Romanced, she will lovingly bring the Inquisitor to her couch in the evenings and she will sing softly to them in Antivan in front of the warm fire, sharing some of their favorite chocolates with them.

Leliana: She makes sure that no word of it gets out of the Inquisition. Some take this to mean that she cares only for the Inquisitions reputation, but she actually does it to keep the Inquisitor safe. Any word that got out would be seen as a weakness, and that would open up a large door for assassin attempts (More than there already are). She gets any information she can from her network of spies about the illness, and she sets up a secret group of herbalists and mages to research more about it and try and find, if not a cure, at least better remedies for it.

Our Boys Pt. 2 (Washington x Reader x Smol!Hamilsquad)


“Can you please do a part two to the GwashxReader with the smol hamilsquad?

“I need a part 2 of the GwashxReader with the smol hamilsquad, & please let it be happy.”

285: “There’s something *we* need to tell you.”
67: “How could anyone be that cruel?”
201: “Is that what I think it is?”

Words: 7,014

A/N: (Okay, I’m gonna apologize in advance. Some people might hate me for what this part will lead up to, but I was really planning on putting this little twist into the plot of the first part-
But… I hope that you guys enjoy part two of Our Boys!)

“Alright boys. Time to head to bed.” (Name) spoke as she stood from the couch. She heard a chorus of protests from her four sons.

“But Mooom…” Alexander groaned.

“Don’t ‘but mooom’ me, Alex. You boys start school again in a month, and with your sleep schedules being as bad as they are, you need to get them back on track.”

Maman, do we really have to?” Lafayette asked, running a hand through his wild head of hair.

“Your mother’s right, boys.” George spoke as he stood, stretching his back. “No complaints.”

John looked up at his father. “But Dad-”

“Don’t make me say ‘march’ boys.” George warned.

Hercules let out a sigh of defeat. “C’ome on, guys. We know they’re right.” He stood from the couch, letting out a yawn. “Night Mom. Night Dad.” He spoke as he began to walk out of the living room.

The other boys followed in suit, bidding their parents goodnight as they past.

“Good night, sons.” George spoke, chuckling with Alexander waved tiredly in response.

(Name) leaned against her husband, smiling up at him. “Can you believe it’s almost been a year and a half since they came?”

George shook his head, wrapping an arm around (Name)’s waist. “I really can’t… It feels like they’ve been here forever.”

“I know… I love it.” (Name) laughed as she and George began to walk to their room for bed. “You know, George. Is there anything you want this year?”

The veteran chuckled, shaking his head as be pulled some sweats from his drawer. “(Name)…”

“George. It’s our 25th anniversary. I want to get you something.” The wife gently protested, going over and cupping his cheeks.

“(Name). Love.” George wrapped his arms around his wife’s waist. “You’ve given this old general all he could ever want. A wonderful home, a beautiful wife to come home to, and four great kids that we get to look after. What more do I need when I already have the perfect family?”

The wife looked at her husband with uncertainty, but sighed softly. “Fine, I won’t get you anything.”

“Good.” George agreed. “Then I’m all too happy to throw a grilling party in the backyard and invite the neighbors.” He spoke before pressing a kiss to her lips to seal the deal.

“Hey! Not fair!” (Name) laughed as she pulled away.

“It’s completely fair. I’m not giving you anything, we’re giving to our kids and our neighbors.” George refuted with a grin, going to the couple’s bathroom. “It’s a win-win for everyone.”

(Name) let out a chuckle, shaking her head. “George Washington, you are unbelievable.”

“And yet, you love me, (Name) Washington.” George answered as he came back into the room, changed into one of his old t-shirts and sweats, wrapping his arms around his wife’s waist.

“That, I certainly do.” She replied.

“Guys! Guys we gotta do something!” John exclaimed quietly as he ran back to his room from the bathroom.

“Dude, what?” Alexander groaned. “Some of us are trying to get to sleep.”

Mon frère, what has you so excited?” Lafayette yawned.

John grinned at his brothers. “Guys, Ma and Pa. Their anniversary is coming up. Their 25th anniversary.”

“Twenty-five years?” Hercules breathed. “Wow…”

“Okay. We gotta do something.” Alexander spoke, now fully awake.

Oui.” Lafayette agreed. “Question is, what.”

“No time like the present to spitball ideas.” John spoke as he climbed up onto his bunk. “Alex, take notes.”

“Dude, it’s like midnight-”


“(Name)! George!”

The couple turned from the grill to see Hercules leading Philip Schuyler and his three daughters into the spacious backyard. George chuckled and put down the burger patties and hot dogs to go meet his friend. (Name) followed closely behind him.

“Philip, I’m glad you and the girls could make it.” George spoke.

“Hey, today’s a special day for you two. You should spend it with people who care about you.” Philip chuckled, smiling at the couple.

(Name) smiled at Philip before turning to the three girls. “And how are you girls doing today?”

“We’re well, thank you!” Angelica answered.

“Congratulations, Mrs. Washington.” Eliza piped, smiling up at her French teacher.

“Yeah! Congrats!” Peggy agreed with a jump of excitement.

The woman smiled at the three girls, giving them each a hug before they went off to meet Alexander and John who were setting picnic tables.

Philip chuckled softly as he watched his daughters run off. “So, did you just invite us or is anyone else coming to join us?” He asked the Washingtons.

“Aaron Jr is coming.” (Name) answered. “His parents are away on business, but we figured this would be a nice way for him to have some company.”

The father of three nodded in understanding. “Yes, and considering how busy the Burrs can be, I suppose that’s just likely to happen. I am impressed to know that he’s so self-sufficient already.”

“Well, you don’t need us to tell you how fast they grow up.” (Name) said with a chuckle.

“Don’t I know it.” Philip sighed, shaking his head.

“Thank you so much for the food, Mr. Washington. It was really good.” Aaron spoke as he wiped his mouth with his napkin.

“Mr. Washington’s grilling is more than good!” Angelica grinned. “It’s amazing!”

George chuckled, smiling at the kids. “Thank you. I’m glad you all enjoy my grilling.”

“No one get up! We’ll get dishes!” Alexander spoke quickly as he and his brothers stood up. (Name) was about to stand as well, but Hercules stopped her.

“Let us, Mom. We got this.” He said with a grin, gathering plates.

“We’ll be right back.” Lafayette promised as he led the way back inside.

“George… Did you plan something?” (Name) asked her husband, quirking a brow.

The husband shook his head. “You knew what I was planning… I have nothing to do with this.”

“Sons. What are you gonna do with them?” Philip asked with a chuckle as Peggy scooted closer to his side.

“Nothing but be thankful.” (Name) answered, putting a hand over George’s and giving it a light squeeze. “Those boys… They’re probably the best thing that’s happened to us.”

“Agreed.” George murmured, pressing a kiss to (Name)’s head.

“I remember the day they arrived.” Philip hummed, resting a chin on his hand. “(Name), you were glowing brighter than the sun you were so happy.”

(Name) chuckled softly at the memory. “I remember that day… God we were so nervous they wouldn’t like us.”

“It certainly didn’t show.” Philip assured.

“Mrs. Washington did look kind of out of it when the boys first came to school.” Eliza piped, playing with her long dark hair.

“And boy was Mr. Washington angry when John and Lee got into it.” Aaron added.

The couple remembered each instant the kids brought up about the boys. Their first day at the school, the first family vacation, and even the first family argument. While there were some unpleasant memories mixed in with the unforgettable ones, (Name) and George wouldn’t trade any of them away,

Everyone’s attention was drawn away from  their conversations when the four brothers soon returned outside. John was carrying clean plates, Alexander was behind him carrying utensils, Hercules casually walked out while hiding something behind his back, and Lafayette had yet to reappear.

“Boys… What is this?” George asked John as he placed a plate in front of his foster father.

“Don’t you worry, Dad. You’ll see.” Alexander promised as he distributed forks.

The two parents looked at each other in confusion, curious as to what their sons were planing. When the back door opened, both (Name) and George were surprised to see Lafayette walking out with a cake on a platter.

“What in the world?” (Name) nearly laughed as her French son placed the homemade cake down on the picnic table. “Oh Laf, you didn’t have to do this.”

“We wanted to, Maman, besides, you haven’t even seen the gift.” He said with a grin, stepping to stand next to his brothers.

George quirked a brow at the four boys. “Gift?”

“Yeah.” John responded, stepping forward and handing an envelope to (Name). “Read this out loud.”

(Name) quirked a brow at John’s request, but opened the envelope. She recognized the sketch on the card as one of John’s works, and smiled at Alexander’s fancy writing. Clearing her throat, she began to read aloud.

“ ‘Dear Mom, Ma, Maman, and Dad, Pa, Papa,’ ” She read, chuckling softly as she looked up at her son’s who were smiling proudly. “ ‘Today, twenty five years ago, you two became the best partners anyone could ever ask for… You also became husband and wife.’ ” (Name) heard George chuckle next to her, then smiled as she felt a kiss being pressed to her head.

“Keep going.” Alexander urged gently.

(Name) smiled at her son and nodded. “ ‘In those twenty five years, you two have been through thick and thin, sickness and health, and a lot of other stuff that you went through before we got here.’ ” She paused, laughing. “Descriptive, Alexander.”


“Okay, okay.” (Name) replied. “ ‘About a year and a half ago, you gave the four of us a home, a home that we didn’t believe would be permanent… But we were so glad to be proven wrong. Letting us borrow your books, letting us cook with you, letting us live with you, you taking care of us, you both were the parents that we hoped for and waited so long to meet.’ ” The wife felt tears prick at her eyes as she read on.

“(Name)…” George soothed, rubbing his wife’s arm.

The foster mother chuckled, nodding to her husband that she was okay. “ ‘Which is why, on this special day, we want to give you both a gift that would mean the world to the four of us… Hercules give Dad the thing.’ What?” (Name) looked up at the four brothers who were nudging the eldest forward

Hercules made his way over to George and brought a manilla folder that had a white note taped to the front out from behind his back. Hercules gave his foster father a genuine smile as he gave the veteran the folder and stepped back to join his brothers.

George watched the boys for a moment to read the note. “ ‘Dad, if you’re reading this, you’ve gotten the thing. Anyway. We all would like to formally announce that Alexander Hamilton, John Laurens, Gilbert du Motier Marquis de Lafayette, and Hercules Mulligan… No longer wish to be your foster sons. Open the folder to find out why.’ ” George’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion, glancing at his wife who looked just as confused. “Boys…”

“Just open the folder!” John exclaimed, practically shaking with excitement.

Doing as his son asked, George opened the folder and pulled out its contents. His eyes scanned the white papers before they widened considerably. He quickly passed the papers to (Name), reading them over again with her.

“Mom, Dad, there’s something we need to tell you… And we hope this gets the point across.” Hercules spoke.

“What does it say?” Angelica inquired.

“Yeah! What?” Peggy mimicked.

(Name) swallowed the lump forming in her throat as tears welled in her eyes. “You boys… Want us to adopt you?” She asked softly.

Alexander nodded. “You’ve both been the best family any of us could ever ask for.”

“You’ve been patient, kind, and all around great parents.” John added.

Lafayette rubbed the back of his neck nervously. “We never really expected to find a home here with you two… But now we’re so thankful that we did.”

“We decided that all four of us want this. We want to be a real family with you two… All you have to do is sign the paperwork, if you want us, of course…” Hercules finished, his hands shoved in his pockets.

(Name) stared at her foster sons, completely shell shocked. She stood from her seat, putting down the adoption forms and walking over to the boys.

Alexander’s brows furrowed in worry when he noticed (Name)’s watery gaze. “Mom…?”

“Are you okay?” John asked, joining Alexander.

The woman let out a watery laugh as she brought all four boys into a tight embrace.

Maman?” Lafayette looked worriedly at (Name), almost frightened when he saw tears flowing from her eyes.

“George!” (Name) nearly sobbed, making the four brother’s and her husband jump at her raised voice. “Get your butt over here and help me hug our sons!”

The boys visibly relaxed at (Name)’s response, Lafayette even shed a couple tears of his own as he hugged (Name) in return. Moments later, George joined the large family hug, pressing a kiss to (Name)’s head.

“So… Is that a yes?” Alexander asked, grinning uncertainly at his foster parents.

(Name) let out a laugh, pressing a kiss to the boy’s forehead. “Of course it’s a yes.”

“Well then, now that that’s all settled. Why don’t we all dig into this cake?” Philip said with a grin, standing from his seat.

Eliza groaned, hitting the palm of her hand to her forehead. “Dad. Way to ruin the moment.”

Months had gone by, the adoption had gone through, and it was official. The boys were officially Washingtons. The family of six couldn’t be happier.

Soon, life fell back into it’s steady pace. They followed their daily routine as usual. School, home, family outings, family movie nights, and repeat. (Name) and George received congratulations from friends, as did the boys in their classes.

Upon returning home from school one day, however, the family was met with an unpleasant sight from next door.

(Name) pulled into the driveway of her home, and George quickly got out of the van to meet with the two police officers who stood at the Burr’s front door. (Name) followed close behind her husband, telling their sons to stay in the car.

“Excuse me, can I ask what’s going on here?” George asked one of the officers as he approached.

The elder of the two police officers, a man, turned to see George approaching, (Name) following close behind him. “Can I ask what your relationship to the people who live in this house are, sir?”

“We’re the Burr’s neighbors, the Washingtons.” George answered, his brows furrowing. He turned to (Name), who matched his look of worry. “What’s this about? Did something happen?”

The younger of the two, a young woman let out a tired sigh. “We’re here to see if anyone was home… We’re sorry to inform you, but Aaron Burr Sr and his wife were involved in a fatal car accident on the highway today.” She explained, her expression grave and sad.

“No… What about Aaron Jr? The Burr’s son?” (Name) asked quickly, gripping onto her husband’s arm.

“He wasn’t anywhere to be found… We assumed he was still at school.” The female officer explained. She muttered under her breath. “God, that poor kid… He’s an orphan and he doesn’t even know it…”

(Name)’s brows furrowed, looking back at the van where her sons were watching the scene. “John! Did you see Aaron before we left?” She called to him.

“Uh… Yeah. He said he was going to the library to do homework while he waited for his parents.” John called back. “Mom? Is everything okay?

(Name) turned back to her husband and the officers. “We’ve known the Burrs since they moved in, we knew Aaron Jr since he was a baby… What’s going to happen to him?”

“Does he have any other living relatives?” Asked the elder of the two officers.

George shook his head. “The only family we knew were the parents. He did have a grandfather, but he died quite some time ago.”

“Since there isn’t any other living family… He’ll go into foster care, correct?” (Name) asked.

“Correct… You seem to know a lot about this kind of thing, Mrs. Washington… Would you two happen to be foster parents?” Asked the female officer, glancing over at the four boys that waited for their parents.

“We’re registered, but those are our sons. We adopted them.” George answered, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Would you two be willing to take in Aaron?” Asked the elder officer. “I know it seems sudden, but the boy needs to be kept somewhere safe where we can easily contact him.”

“Of course… We’ve known the Burrs for a long time. Aaron’s friends with all of our sons, he’s basically family already.” (Name) spoke, wiping the tears away from her eyes.

“Thank you.” The female officer spoke, giving (Name) a sympathetic smile. “Mr. Washington, do you think you could lead us to the school where Aaron is? We’re going to have to pick him up, and it might make things easier if we’re with someone he knows.”

George nodded in understanding. “Of course.” He looked at (Name), quickly pressing a kiss to her forehead. “I’ll be home soon… Tell the boys what’s going on. They’ll be able to relate to what Burr’s going through.”

“I will… Drive safe.” (Name) murmured in response, walking with her husband back to the van.

“What’s going on? Why were their cops at the Burr house?” Hercules asked his parents as George started up the van.

“You guys listen to your mother. I’ll be back soon.” George promised as he drove off, the police car followed behind in suit.

(Name) watched her husband drive off, trying to control her raging emotions. Aaron… He was so young to go through something like that… But then again, so were her own sons.


The mother jumped at the sudden call, looking down to see Alexander holding her hands, John standing at his side, Lafayette opposite him, and Hercules standing next to her.

“What happened?” Alexander asked, his brows furrowed in concern and worry. “Why did Dad just drive off with those police?”

(Name) let out a quiet sigh, squeezing Alexander’s hands with her own. “I’ll explain everything, boys… But let’s get inside.”

“Will this suit you for now, Aaron?” (Name) asked as she smoothed down the sheet on the couch, placing the blanket next to the pillow she had already placed down.

The boy nodded silently, sniffling slightly and rubbing his red eyes. “I-I’m sorry for all the trouble, Mrs. Washington… I could just stay in my own house to save you from the inconvenience.”

“Aaron, it’s not an inconvenience at all.” (Name) insisted, moving to stand next to Aaron. “George and I have known you since you were a baby. We were always happy to help your family… And we want to help now.”

The boy gave a silent nod, going to sit on the couch. After George had brought Aaon home, he helped the boy get some of the essentials from his house. All Aaron took was a change of clothes, and his toothbrush and toothpaste. His reasoning for packing so light: “I don’t want to overstay my welcome… It’s not my place to.”

(Name) watched Aaron for a moment, going over and sitting next to the boy on the plush couch. “Aaron… You know you can talk to any of us about this.” She said, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder.

He nodded slowly, but didn’t speak.

“… The guys will be glad to talk with you about what happened… They know what you’re going through.”

“Mrs. Washington?”

(Name) raised a brow. “Yes?”

“How could anyone be that cruel?” Aaron murmured, his gaze focused on the ground.

“I’m sorry?”

“The officers said it was a hit and run, that when they hit my parents they were run off the road… The driver who hit my parents just drove on by like nothing had happened. How could they just not care that they could’ve just ended someone’s life? Two lives? Maybe a whole car for God’s sake!”

(Name) saw angry tears slip down Aaron’s cheeks. She wrapped her arms around the boy, pulling him close. “I don’t know… But Aaron, I promise you… The police will find the person who did this. They’re going to pay for what happened.”

Aaron didn’t respond, he just gripped onto (Name)’s arm tightly as he grit his teeth to keep his sobs from escaping him. She could feel his shoulders shake as he cried, but she simply rubbed his back in hopes to soothe the boy.

After what could have been an hour, (Name) noticed Aaron’s breathing had evened out to a slow and steady pace. Carefully moving off the couch, she placed the blanket over the boy and left the room, rubbing her forehead as she walked down the hall.


(Name) turned to see that her sons were still awake. Lafayette was sitting on the floor reading, Alexander was on his bed writing something down, John was leaning against Alexander as he sketched something, and Hercules was stretched out in his bed reading a magazine.

“Hey,” (Name) said with a weary smile, leaning against the door frame. “I figured you boys would probably be asleep by now.”

“Kinda hard to sleep when you know one of your friends lost his parents.” John spoke, putting down his sketch pad.

“How’s Aaron doing?” Hercules asked, sitting up.

(Name) sighed, shaking her head. “He’s angry, sad, confused… All that you would expect.” She spoke.

“I know how that feels.” Alexander muttered, putting down his pencil.

The mother sent Alexander a sympathetic smile, looking over all of her sons. “… Can you boys look out for Aaron? I know it’s a lot to ask, but he could really use support from people who know what he’s going through.”

“Of course.” Lafayette spoke.

“Aaron’s our friend… Heck, he might as well be another brother considering how much time we spend with him.” John agreed.

“We promise, Mom. We’ll help him out.” Hercules affirmed.

(Name) smiled at her boys, nodding. “Thank you.” She said, walking into the room and giving each of her sons a kiss on the forehead. “Goodnight, boys.”



Bonne nuit.”


(Name) smiled at her sons, leaving their room to join her husband. It wasn’t surprising to see George was reading one of his wife’s many books. She sighed, sitting down on the bed and catching her husband’s attention.

“How’s Aaron?”

“Asleep… George, the poor kid cried himself to sleep.” She answered sadly, feeling George wrap an arm around her waist and pulling her closer to him.

“I’m sorry, love… That couldn’t have been easy.” George murmured as he pressed a kiss to his wife’s head.

“It wasn’t.” (Name) answered, leaning against her husband’s shoulder. “George… What if we just saved Aaron from going through the process of being put into the system?”

“What do you mean by that?” Inquired the veteran as he closed his book.

“I mean,” She turned to face her husband. “What if we just get the adoption papers ready? I mean, we’ll give him time to grieve, and maybe after the funeral we can ask how he would feel about being a part of our family.” She explained.

George quirked a brow at his wife, chuckling softly as he pressed a kiss to her forehead. “(Name), you are a saint… But we’ll have to see what Aaron thinks about this plan. In the end, it’s all up to him what he wants to do.”

(Name) nodded, smiling up at her husband. “I talked with the boys. They said they would help look out for Aaron.”

“Good… Alexander will probably be able to relate most, but having the four of them there to help Aaron through this will be good for them.” George spoke, gently taking (Name)’s hand into his. “We’ll help him get through this, (Name)… Aaron and Esther would want that.”

The wife gave her husband a sad smile, nodding in agreement. “I know.” She murmured quietly, bringing her husband’s hand to her lips and kissing his wedding ring. “I love you, George.”

“I love you too.”

“You want to what?”

(Name) and George sat at the dining room table across from Aaron, the white adoption form sitting in front of the boy.

The funeral was earlier that day. Many friends came to offer their condolences, Aaron was quiet throughout the entire service, aside from thanking Philip Schuyler for paying for the whole ordeal. Upon returning from the cemetery, the Washingtons had sent their sons to the Schuyler residence so they could speak with Aaron privately.

“We want to offer you a place here, Aaron. As a family.” (Name) explained.

“Mrs. Washington, I really don’t want to burden you and your husband more than I have already.” Aaron spoke quickly.

“It isn’t a burden if we’re asking, Aaron.” George explained carefully.

The boy shook his head. “I can’t accept. Mr. Schuyler already paid for the funeral service, I can’t impose-”

“You aren’t imposing.” (Name) said, almost sternly. “Aaron, you never imposed on us whenever you were younger. We were all too happy to help out your parents when they needed someone to watch you.”

“You shouldn’t feel obligated to look after someone else’s kid.” Aaron muttered.

(Name) opened her mouth to respond, but George squeezed her hand and stopped her. She looked over at her husband, but let out a sigh. “Aaron… Think about it, please.” She said to the boy, sending a smile his way.

Aaron nodded slowly, standing from the table and taking the adoption form with him as he left to return to the living room.

The woman sighed, dropping her head. “If that boy inherited something from his father, it was certainly his stubbornness. And I say that in complete admiration.”

“And his mother’s genius mind.” George agreed, rubbing his wife’s back. “Don’t worry… We said we would give him time. We’re going to give him time.”

(Name) nodded. “Well, the boys should be back from the Schuyler’s soon. I can get started on dinner if you do laundry.”

George pressed a kiss to his wife’s head. “I think I can do that. Have John and Herc been keeping up with it?”

“From the last time I saw. They might not have emptied the dryer though.” (Name) answered as she stood and walked to the kitchen.

The veteran nodded in understanding as he stood. “Alright. Call me if you need something.”

“I’ll be sure to.” (Name) answered, leaning back and pressing a kiss to her husband’s cheek. “Love you.”

“Love you back.” He replied before walking away from his wife.

With that, (Name) began to fix something that she knew would brighten everyone’s moods. Her famous spaghetti. The boys always enjoyed it, George could live off it as he had claimed, so she had hoped that Aaron would enjoy it.

As she cooked, (Name) heard the door open, signaling that the boys were back from visiting the Schuyler’s. She could vaguely hear their conversations, but she kept her attention to cooking the ground beef. She moved to pull a flat strainer and a bowl to train the grease from the beef. Carefully she began to pour the boiling grease into the bowl.

“Is that what I think it is? That they’re fulfilling some stupid obligation?”

Alexander? (Name)’s brows furrowed in confusion, was it her or did Alexander sound irritated?

“They’re taking care of you because they want to. They see you as family for God’s sake, so do we!”

John? For what reason did he have to raise his voice?

Mon ami, excuse me while I say this, but vous êtes un imbécile.

Lafayette too? Something had to have set off the sweet French kid to get him to call someone a fool.

There was quite for a moment before (Name) heard an explosive yell.

“How much of an inconsiderate jackass are you!?” Hercules bellowed.

The yell caused (Name)’s grip to slip and some of the hot grease she was pouring to splash onto her hand and arm. The woman let out a curse as she put the skillet down on the stove. She heard yelling continue and tried to move as quickly as she could, but her husband’s voice was quick to silence the arguing.

“What is the meaning of this!?” George questioned sternly, the volume of his voice louder than usual.

(Name) moved to stand next to her husband, seeing that Hercules was standing over Aaron, the oldest of her sons looking rather angry.

“What happened?” (Name) asked, shaking her burned hand to get rid of the sting.

“Burr doesn’t realizing how good he’s had it until now.” Hercules answered, his hands clenched into fists.

Aaron glared at the older teen. “You know what Mulligan?”

“No! Obviously I don’t!” Hercules yelled. His voice caused Aaron to flinch, and tempted George to step in and intervene, but (Name) stopped her husband. “I didn’t get to grow up in a nice house with my parents for most of my childhood! I didn’t get to enjoy a home cooked meal every single day!” Hercules ranted, moving forward to grab Aaron, but was held back by his brothers.

“Herc! Chill!” John exclaimed.

However, Hercules continued. “We didn’t get holidays, we didn’t get nice rooms to sleep in, sometimes we didn’t even get enough for all of us to eat!”

(Name) listened to Hercules rant on, feeling her chest tighten as he listed off how bad he and his brothers had it. She knew that there were some foster families that just had no business being in the system, and the mere thought of her boys living in those conditions scared the life out of her.

“So yeah, getting through loss is rough, we all know that, but you are outright getting an offer to stay with probably one of the best families there is!” He paused, exhaling before speaking at a normal volume. “But don’t throw away your shot at being happy with a great family who already sees who as a member of it.”

(Name) could tell that Hercules was calming down, so she moved to stand next to her oldest son, putting a hand on his shoulder. “Hercules… Come help me in the kitchen.” She told him softly before leading him away from the younger boys.

Upon passing George, (Name) gave her husband a patient smile, giving his hand a squeeze before heading into the kitchen with Hercules.

“Now, you wanna tell me what that was about?” (Name) asked as she turned on the cold water to cool down her burn.

Hercules huffed, rubbing the back of his neck. “Aaron… We came in from visiting the girls and he asked if we thought you and Dad offered to adopt him because you thought you had to. Like it was your ‘obligatory duty to his parents’ or something.”

“And?” (Name) questioned, looking over her shoulder.

“We… Might have gotten a little angry.” Hercules answered.

“I could tell, seeing as it takes a lot to make Laf call someone a fool.” (Name) chuckled, turning off the water and turning to Hercules. She could tell that he was starting to feel guilty about yelling at Aaron.

“I’m sorry I kinda of lost it like that, Mom.” He muttered, rubbing the back of his neck.

(Name) walked over and stood next to her son, leaning against the counter with him. “I would have expected the loosing of the temper being John… But I can understand why you blew up like that.”

“He just doesn’t get how good he has it, Mom. We waited years, years to find you and Dad, and he’s getting an offer just like that so he doesn’t even have to go through the system.” Hercules let out a dry laugh. “And he just thinks it’s some obligation you and Dad are trying to fill.”

The woman sighed, nodding in agreement. “I know… I wish he could see differently. Aaron, the girls, your father and I have known them all since they were born, and we were more than happy to take care of them whenever their parents needed us too… Now that Aaron’s parents are gone, George and I want to ensure he’s taken care of, and that he’ll be happy.” She moved an arm and wrapped it around Hercules’ broad shoulders. “That sound familiar to you?”

She heard Hercules huff a laugh. “Yeah… I’m sorry, Mom.”

“I know.” She replied, giving her son’s shoulder a squeeze. “You will have to apologize to Aaron before dinner.”

He nodded. “Yeah… Figured.”

(Name) gave her son a smile. “Well, now that you’re here and seeing that your yelling managed to get me to burn my hand, you’re gonna help me finish dinner.”

“You sure you don’t want Laf to help with that?” He asked.

“Hercules, you’re a sophomore, you need to know how to make spaghetti.” (Name) laughed as she led her son to the stove.

“Um… Mrs. Washington? Hercules?”

The two turned from the stove to see Aaron standing in the doorway with George standing behind him.

“Everything okay?” (Name) asked as she turned to face the two.

Aaron met the woman’s gaze and began speaking. “I want to apologize for what I said… I really am lucky to have people so ready to take me in… So, if the offer is still on the table, I would like to take you up on it.” He looked over at Hercules, then averted his gaze. “If you’ll accept me…”

(Name) looked over at Hercules, looking baffled at the question. She gently nudged her son forward with her arm, smiling as he went forward to speak.

“There wasn’t ever going to be the question if we were gonna accept you or not. It depended on when you were gonna accept.” Hercules spoke, offering a small smile to the younger teen. “I’m sorry too, I shouldn’t have blown up like that.”

“You had reason to.” Aaron replied. “But, it’s okay.” He held a hand out to Hercules, returning the smile. “Shall we put this behind us?”

“Put what behind us?” Hercules inquired with a grin playing his lips as he shook Aaron’s outstretched hand.

(Name) smiled as she watched the scene unfold in front of her, moving to look at her husband who stepped around the boys. George walked over to his wife, wrapping an arm around her waist and pressing a kiss to her forehead. “So, shall I give Nicole a call?”

“After dinner. We’re also gonna have to think about renovating that spare room next to my office.” (Name) said, smiling up at her husband.


Ma famille! Dinner’s ready!”

(Name) looked up from grading French exams and let out a sigh of relief. She stood from her chair, chuckling softly at the sound of running feet rushing to the kitchen and a chorus of exclamations from the dining room. She heard a sigh, looking over at Aaron who was returning a couple of her books.

“Honestly, they act like they’ll never eat again.” He muttered, looking over at (Name). “But seeing as it’s Lafayette’s cooking, I can understand the excitement.”

“You and the rest of the family.” (Name) spoke, putting a hand on Aaron’s shoulder to walk with him into the hall. “You’ve gotten taller… Christ, I’m gonna be the shortest person in the house soon.”

“Not entirely. John and Alexander are still your height.” Aaron answered, a small smile playing his lips

The woman let out a laugh. “Don’t say that to their faces.”

It was still hard to believe that her boys were all growing up. Hercules was a senior and waiting to hear back from colleges, John and Aaron were sophomores, Lafayette and Alexander had even managed to get their grades high enough and show enough promise to skip a grade and move up with John and Aaron into the sophomore class.

Upon entering the dining room, Lafayette stood leaning against the counter while John and Alexander moved quickly past each other with plates and utensils. (Name) chuckled at her boys, remembering that they were still like the boys that had first moved in with her and her husband. Except now, Lafayette’s face had begun to grow scruff that he kept trimmed, his wild head of hair usually kept back in a ponytail. John’s hair had also grown out, and he tended to keep it out of his face by tying it up in a ponytail, Alexander was the same way as his black hair grew out to his shoulders.

She certainly was glad that the school didn’t have strict rules for the high school students when it came to appearances.

“You wouldn’t be rushing if someone had put down what they were doing to help me.” Lafayette sighed, watching as John and Alexander set seven places.

“I was writing a paper!”

“I was organizing a portfolio!”

(Name) chuckled at her sons, looking into the living room. “Is your father still outside?” She called to the teens.

Oui, Hercules just went to get him.” Lafayette answered.

(Name) sighed. “I swear if he gets himself sick…”

The front door opened and the father of the house came inside with the eldest son, both bundled up with thick jackets.

“Driveway isn’t going to clear itself, love.” George told (Name) as he unzipped his coat and took it off. “Besides, someone had to get the mail.”

(Name)’s expression changed to one of surprise. “Did it come?”

Hercules smiled nervously, holding an envelope. “Right here… Columbia University.”

“Hurry up and open the thing!” Alexander exclaimed, grinning at his older brother.

Hercules nodded, turning the envelope in his hands and tearing it open. He pulled out the letter, inhaling sharply as he unfolded the paper. The rest of the family waited in the strained silence, all hoping for the best.

“… Well?” John asked.

Hercules’ eyes flicked from the letter to his family, his nervous smile melting away into an excited grin. “I got in.”

And thus the cheering and celebrating insued. (Name) and George gave their son a hug of congratulations. Hercules took the congratulatory high-fives, fits bumps, and noogies from all of his brothers, which (Name) was glad to see now included Aaron.

“Alright, this calls for a picture.” (Name) spoke as she went to her office to get her phone.

“Aw Mom, really?” Hercules groaned, a smile still brightening his face.

“Yes really!” She called back, grabbing the device and returning to the kitchen.

George chuckled, corralling all the boys in front. “Indulge her, boys.”

(Name) smiled at the screen, watching as Lafayette and Alex stood on Hercules’ left, while John and Aaron were on his right. She took the picture, looking over her shoulder at George who watched. She pressed a kiss to her husband’s cheek before setting her phone down. “Alright. Laf, you and I serve. The rest of you guys take your seats.”

Walking over to join Lafaytte, (Name) sighed to see that her growing Frenchman was just a few inches over her. “You boys are growing up.” She muttered with a smile on her face.

“And we’ve had the best parents to help us do that, Maman.” Lafayette chuckled, picking up the platter of Sole Meunière and pressing a kiss to his mother’s temple. (Name) followed in suit with the rest of the meal, helping dish out and serve the rest of her family.

Once everyone was served, (Name) took her regular seat at the table. Looking to her right, she smiled at her oldest son who sat next to her. “I’m really proud of you, Hercules.” She told her oldest son, moving a hand to his shoulder and giving it a squeeze.

“Thanks, Mom… I owe this to you and Dad… And the guys of course.” He laughed, nudging Alexander next to him.

“Well, you did need someone to tell you to quit looking at girls and start looking at colleges.” Alexander said matter-of-factly as he sipped at his drink.

(Name) chuckled. She looked over at John who suddenly stood, holding his cup.

“Alright, alright. I say that we raise a glass.” He said with a grin, despite his brothers groaning.

“John, oh my God.” Alexander laughed.

Mon frère, tais-toi.” Lafayette advised from next to John, a grin present on his face..

“The food is on the table, can we just eat it?” Aaron agreed, shaking his head as quiet laughter bubbled from him.

John mocked hurt by putting a hand to his chest. “I am utterly shocked that my fellow brothers are refusing to raise a glass to our oldest brother.”

“John…” Hercules couldn’t help but laugh as he hid his face in his hand.

(Name) couldn’t help the laugh that fell from her lips. “Let’s just go ahead.” She spoke, picking up her own glass. “It isn’t everyday that a young man gets accepted to the University of Columbia.”

“Agreed.” George spoke from the other side of the table as he picked up his cup. The boys followed in suit.

John cleared his throat. “To Hercules, he’s made a lot a choices, some haven’t been the best,”

“Hey.” Hercules warned.

“But he’s taking a big step that soon enough we’re gonna be taking as well. So, to us, to family, and to the future!” John cheered.

“Here here.” (Name) affirmed, smiling as she raised her glass, the rest of the family following in suit.

Dinner went on as usual. (Name) and George told the boys to go to the living room to pick a movie for a celebratory movie night while the parents cleaned up. With little to no protests, the teens left for the living room, leaving the husband and wife to gather dishes.

As George picked up his glass and plate, (Name) nudge his side to get his attention. “To our boys,” She spoke, raising the remainder of her drink. “And to the hopes that their futures become all that they want to be.”

George chuckled at his wife, gently clinking his glass with hers. “To that and more so.” He agreed, leaning forward and pressing his lips to (Name)’s. As he pulled away, he smiled at her. “I love you, and our sons.”

“I love you too.” (Name) answered, putting her dishes in the sink and listening to the movie debate in the living room. “And I love them… All of our boys.”

Dance Lessons (Part One)

Summary: In which you you try to teach Bucky how to dance but his hip movement is about as mechanical as his metal arm.

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Word Count: 2,325

A/N: There is most likely going to be a Part 2. Also, the reader is Hispanic and the song at the very end is Promise by Romeo Santos and Usher.

“Dance Lessons” Masterlist

Originally posted by papertownsy

“Y/N.” You use your blanket to cover your face. “Y/N wake up.”

You groan and try to burrow yourself further into your bed. Maybe whoever it is will catch a hint and leave you alone. “Go away.”

“But it’s important.”

With remnants of sleep lingering over you like a dark cloud on a rainy day, you push aside your covers. When you finally gather enough energy to sit up, you find a super soldier with a metal arm standing at the foot of your bed.

“Bucky, what’re you doing here?” When you look at the clock on your bedside and see that it’s close to two in the morning, you become more alert. “Is something wrong?”

“Yeah,” he replies while carding his hand through his unkempt hair.

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