#✶ — › if looks could kill you’d be lying on the floor — ⌜ wardrobe ⌟

[bloodypyre-a]

tags

[remuslupinbutcooler]

Puppy love…

(lost boys x reader )

i apologise for the late chapter , i’ve currently got exams going on !!

Hunger. Every part of you craved it. Something you’d never had before. Something you never ate.

The boys had taken you out , promising to show you your new life and how to adjust to it. Marko and Paul making small remarks while David snapped at them for it, still angry about your reaction to your new life You weren’t angry at him, moreover the fact he’d take it without asking. If he had perhaps asked nicely, you might’ve or maybe if one of the other brought it up or even Star. You would’ve definitely said yes.But he wanted you, he didn’t want to loose his and his brothers mate. He’d finally found you after years of hoping and wondering.

He taught you how to make your first kill, you were hesitant at first . Worried about someone finding out, it was a surfer that you killed. A blonde haired prick who’s tanned and tone body now lay coldly along the shore , covered in the darkest reds and buried beneath layers of warm sand. The waves would probably take him away , the fish and other creatures would make good use of him.

“So now what ?” You titled your head to the side, almost puppy like. A curious golden glint dancing among your eyes, it still stood there even after feeding.

“What do you mean now what? We’re going home babe.” Paul’s arm hung around you.

“What? No new vampire wardrobe? “ You were pouting, your eyes now becoming puppy dog like .

“Maybe another day ? Hm? It’s getting late..the suns coming up and I’d rather you didn’t die on your first night as a vampire “ David’s fingers reached for your chin, pulling it face him. He was close. Closer than you wanted him to be . His lips soon clashed against your forehead before he pushed you back into the boys.

He rode off first. Leaving a couple of minutes before Dwayne followed behind. Dwayne didn’t really speak to you, his eyes seemed somewhat saddened by the events. While the rest of the boys cheered you on for killing, he didn’t . He stood there watching before cleaning you up.

“Does he not like me or something?”

“No no no babe he does..He’s just got something going on..!” Paul was quick to answer. His eyes meeting with the floor. He was lying.

“Hop on!” Marko commanded before you could comment on Paul’s behaviour.

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

You stared back at your bed, the boys had left and gone to their rooms. Leaving you alone.

You tossed and turned before meeting with the all too familiar feeling of another presence.

Marko stood before you, a thumb stuck in his mouth. Stood almost like a small child , he looked like a small child. His hair all messy, his clothes baggy drowning him and his eyes, innocent and wonderous.

“Could..Could I possibly sleep with you? I…I..” Before he could say anything, your arms wrapped around his frame pulling him into the bed . His arms pushed almost into him, he lay comfortably on his back letting you adjust around him. One hand placed on your thigh while the other on the pillow beneath your head. You were comfortable like this.

“any reason you wanted to sleep here or?”

“I was worried. First night as a vampire and in a strange place, it’s gotta feel weird for you mamas..” He sighed before letting his fingers move against your thigh “ I had Paul and stuff but David said it’s best if we all just let you come to us but it’s so-“

“Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why does David think it’s best? shouldnt i get to decide? he literally-“

“hey hey hey..” small tears appeared within your eyes , it’s only just hit you that you were now dead. A creature of the night, a monster. Marko pulled you closer to him, letting you cling onto him and cry.

Soon your tears had ended and left you tired, too tired to even tell Marko that you were going to sleep. He sensed your now sleepy mind and eased it even more by cuddling upto you and keeping you comfortable.

Maybe being here wasn’t so bad…

[captain039]

PART 3 Playing pretend

Aemond x reader

Warnings: Gore, swearing, intimacy, tension, niece/uncle, Targaryen incest, reader is Rhaenyras daughter, if I spell something wrong I don’t care 😂, AOB, anxiety, anxiety attacks

Previous part <-

“I’d like to return to my room please” you say as Aemond goes to one of his drawers. He doesn’t say anything as he digs around for a bit before pulling out white cloth strips. He walks back over to you, holding his uncut hand out to you and you frown. He grabs your cut hand making you flinch, but there’s a gentleness in his touch as he holds your hand and wraps it on a clean cloth strip. He tightens it but not too much before adding another to secure it there.

“We are wed, you returning to your own room would cause speculation” he says voice surprisingly soft.

“We are not that kind of wed, this is a mutual agreement of peace-“ you take a small breath seeing the glint in his eye again. He’s right that and you hate him even more for it.

“We are enemy’s” you say with a slight snap as you hold your hand close to your body as he fixes his own cut hand.

“Aren’t all married couples?” You see him smirk and want to slap it off his face. You want to growl at him if you could instead you stand by the door wondering how long you can stand here till you either collapse or die. Truely you only have yourself to blame but as the alpha prince sits down pours himself some wine it makes your fire burn hotter. He killed Luke, your precious baby brother off to do his first task, on little Arrax. It wouldn’t be hard to slice your dagger over his too pretty neck. A knock is heard and you jolt away from the door as the prince answers. He says nothing as guards come in, boxes and cases in hand. It’s your things you realise, you’ve been promptly moved into an alphas room, one you hardly know. If they expect a consummation out of you there will be fire and blood. You only stare as your things are dropped off, you’d set up your bed perfectly for comfort and familiarity and now you’re going to sleep on the couch or floor if he doesn’t throw you in the wardrobe. It makes you want to whimper at your bedding now lying on top of your things as the guards leave with small nods.

“I don’t sleep much, the bed is yours” you look to the prince realising he’s staring at you.

“I won’t sleep in your bed, I’ll be happy on the floor, or the couch” you fight watching his scared eyebrow raise.

“Why?” He asks head tilting.

“I will not sleep in the enemy’s bed! Hells I probably won’t sleep” you mumble the last part before heading over to your things. You grab your quilt, pillows and blanket and go to move to the fire place. The prince stops you, side stepping into your path and you glare. You know you’d never win in a fight with him unless he was asleep and without a weapon.

“Is it my scent?” He asks a small smirk on his lips.

“No” you say too quickly.

“I’ll remove my bedding, have it replaced with fresh sheets” his words send your omega in a loop for some reason. An image flashes by your mind of you in his bed nose buried in his pillow breathing him in deeply, having his scent over your body. Suddenly the image changes to warmth on your back you sprawled out naked the prince covering you with his body, lips pressed against your shoulder.

“Unless you’d prefer not” you flush as your reeled from your mind and storm past him. You lay out your blankets on the couch and pillows before you’re happy and curse the robe you’re still in.

“I’d like to bathe and change” you say and he nods.

“Eloide” he calls and a young woman comes in. She’s wearing servant clothes and gives you both a small bow.

“My wife wished to bathe and change, see that it is done” the prince orders and the young woman nods and rushes off. Your thoughts spiral at the words ‘My wife’ and you glare at the floor.

“I’m needed at the council, enjoy your bath” is his last words before he’s gone. You sag as you’re left along in a silent room, his scent all over the place.

You bathe have the cut on your lip tended too and changed into a simple gown before the maids do your hair and leave. You survey his room, the fine furniture, everything spotless, nothing looks touched really as if he’s hardly in here, it’s a good sign. You check your things, finding no sign of your dagger and cursing as you throw your last gown on the floor, that dagger was a gift from your father, one little piece of him you had. You sit on the edge of the bed head in your hands as you take small breaths. His bed is overwhelming, the scent of alpha filling your nose, remnants of alpha in rut in the mattress. Gods.

You stare at the bed, hand sprawled out on the quilt, you glance to the door, he’s probably still in the council meeting. You press your face into the pillow and breathe deeply and small whine leaving your lips. It smells just like him and nothing else, pure Targaryen alpha. You hear footsteps and it makes you instantly shoot up off the mattress and forcing yourself to pack your things back up with red cheeks.

He’s doesn’t return, even when you’re called for dinner. You follow the guard to the dining table and keep your head down as you enter behind him. You only look to see where you are seated and quickly go to the empty spot by Aemond. You sit down Helena to your left, Aemond to your right, the children by Helena, King Aegon at the head with Alicent to his right and Aemond to his left.

“Well isn't this fun” Aegon says after silence and your whole body tenses.

“Welcome to the family, sister” his words are sarcastic and leak venom.

“How’s your bitch mother?” You go to yell at the king when a hand moves to your thigh lightning quick and squeezes. You’re rendered frozen and stare blankly at your food at the warmth seeping through your skirts.

“Brother” Aemond says warningly but Aegon just smirks and continues to eat. You see Alicents face red, Helenas unfazed. You eat your food in silence trying to ignore your husband’s hand on your thigh.

When dinner is over you leave in an instant, having a guard guide you back feeling Aemond just behind a few paces. You pushed by the guard once you saw the familiar door and stormed in slamming it on the prince alphas face. You curled your fingers in your hair and breathed heavily, gods you wanted to burn that damned king in dragon fire or slit his throat. Curse him and his stupid brother for thinking he could lay hands on you, again. You seethe in silence unaware of the door opening and closing as you pace in front of the fire.

“If you wish to slit his throat you’ll need this” Aemond speaks bringing you from your raging fires. You stare at the dagger in his hand, your dagger, the one from your father, he had it the whole time bastard.

“Unless you were going to slit my throat” he adds observing the blade in his hand. He walks forward and you can’t go anywhere because of the fireplace, he holds out the hilt to you though and you frown before taking it.

“You could climb down out my window and escape before anyone reports me dead” he comments before he turns his back and leaves once more.

Next part ->

[vertigoed]

faded (prequel) || rich boy!Gojo Satoru

Content : AU richboy! Gojo satoru x fem!reader, unrequited love, drug usage

Baby's only 23. Dancing under lights since she was 17. Her brain's flooded with ketamine High from every party, low from self esteem 

 TW: heavy drug use

MASTERLIST

PART 2 OUT

Inspired by the song 23 by Chase atlantic :) 

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

2009: Senior year of high school. Age 17

You close your eyes at the familiar, soothing sound of the water bubbling as you inhaled the crystal studded bong, letting the smoke hit the back of your throat before exhaling. You felt a head rush from the mixture of tobacco and weed, sinking back into the sofa, as you enjoyed the heightened feeling of relaxation that you craved so badly all day. 

“You’re such a fiend,” Satoru smirked at you, looking up at you from his black rimmed glasses with his blood shot stoned, blue eyes. He was lying on the rug while smoking a cigarette, not caring if the ashes were falling to the ground and staining the white rug. 

“You’d be the same after what I went through today,” you snap at him, rolling your eyes. You were sporting a painful bruise on your hip after falling off your horse during equestrian class that morning, ruining your favourite Burberry outfit in the process. Noticing the ash marks on your persian rug, you kick his head with your foot, “Dude, use a fucking ash tray like a decent human being.”

“I can ask the maid to give it a wash, what’s the issue,” he got up as he rubbed his head, giving you a small glare but discarded his almost finished cigarette onto the vintage, ceramic ash tray you bought a couple months ago for far too much. 

You and Gojo Satoru were the definition of spoilt, privileged rich kids who had no perception of responsibility or accountability. 

Of course, on surface level, your life was perfect and you were fully aware of that. By the time you hit puberty, you already had a wardrobe full of designer bags that most people would kill for, and visited every Disney park across the globe, twice. You didn’t have to worry about mundane life problems like exams when you had the best tutors to show you the answers to the test questions. Things like worrying about your future or which college you’ll be going to was a foreign concept to you. Something you couldn’t imagine no matter how hard you tried. 

 The only anxiety you experienced was having to be put on a wait list for an Hermes bag. 

Being born into generational wealth had already paved your future and all you had to do was walk on that pretty flower road. 

But after a while, things got old and having everything and anything you like, lead you feeling trapped in a constant cycle of mind numbing boredom and wanting to chase a high that simply didn’t exist.   

Satoru’s phone started to ring, interrupting the music that was playing on the speaker. You watch him look at his phone with a disgruntled expression before he hung up on the caller, lying back on the floor with a heavy sigh. 

“Who was it?” you ask, grabbing the crumpled cigarette packet from the coffee table. 

“Utahime,” he nonchalantly replies. His girlfriend of the month. 

The room fell silent after that except for the booming music of Kanye West Runaway playing on the speaker, the frequency of the beat practically vibrated through the walls. You both enjoy listening to music loud enough that no thought could cross your mind. 

You found yourself zoning out as you smoked a Marlboro gold, your favourite brand, unable to fight the drowsiness after the countless number of blunts you smoked in one sitting. It was almost time for your afternoon nap anyway, so you closed your eyes. 

A couple minutes later, you realised the music stop playing again and looked over to Gojo who now had his phone to his ear, listening intensely. He noticed you looking and mouthed Utahime’s name which you roll your eyes in response. 

“Okay babe, I’ll ask Y/N if you can come over,” he said, he quickly muted his phone and raised his eyebrow at you, asking for permission. 

“Let me think,” you drawled, pretending to contemplate by stroking your chin before giving him a dead pan expression and a blunt, “Nope.” 

Satoru had this weird enticement for girls who were middle class or lower. You always knew it was an ego thing. He loved that he can toss a few bands on a Chanel bag and that would practically make girls like Utahime treat him like their God.  

At first you found it amusing how easy it was to win these people’s love and respect. A bag that’s worth a few pennies to you, was worth everything to them. You couldn’t understand why they can’t just stick to wearing tote bags or H&M purses that was within their price range. 

But the gag got old pretty quick, as he eventually turned into a serial man whore, having a new chick every month or so- and you having to be that girl best friend all his girlfriends hated. 

You were sick of them being jealous of your friendship, always wanting to be there if you guys were hanging out and the constant clinginess from them. Lucky for you though, Satoru never hesitated to replace them with some other chick. 

“Well, she has something important to tell me so I’m going to have to leave,” he shrugged before unmuting his phone to resume his conversation. 

You couldn’t help but be a little taken back at his response. Usually, he’d tell the girl that he can’t see them that day because he was already busy. This was the first time he had left you to hang out with somebody else. 

You scoffed in disbelief and got up from the couch, stomping over to the speaker so you could plug your phone in. You made sure to have it on max volume, ignoring Satoru’s furious glare. 

Satoru got up to leave, still on the phone, “Sorry babe, I’m coming now.” Before he left, he flipped you off, which you gladly returned. 

As soon as he left, you pull out your laptop and type in Utahime’s full name on facebook. You scroll through her profile, sneering at her cringe selfies in the mirror with the Gucci bag that Gojo had gifted.  You laugh at her post of her new car, it was a Honda civic, yet she seemed so proud of it with the caption being: 

Took me 6 months to buy this baby :) #sohappy #hondacivic 

You were infuriated that Satoru had just left your house to go see someone who’s happiness came from a shit box of a car. You tell yourself it’s not jealousy, that you were just upset for your best friend who was being used by a girl for his money. 

“What the fuck is so special about her,” you mutter before clicking on the request friend button at the top, “I’ll show her what’s up.” 

____________

hehe like  for part 2.  if u reblog imma send u a fat virtual kiss ( ͡ᵔ ᴗ ͡ᵔ)

PART 2

[notsocheezy]

Brain Curd #93

Brain Curds are lightly edited flash fiction - practically first drafts - posted daily and sometimes written with the express intention of being terrible… but, you know, in an endearing way. Please enjoy.

“Oh… I understand.” you say, lying. That’s what you’re supposed to say when your heart is broken, when the person you’re in love with doesn’t feel the same way. You tell them you understand and you walk away so you can cry about how you’re going to die alone because you’ll never love anyone as much as you love this person, here and now.

You say, “Hey, that’s okay, I’m glad we can still be friends,” and you smile and you hug and you smell their green-apple hair and it eats you up inside but you don’t show it, not for a moment. You finish the hug and go to your locker around the corner where you can pretend not to think about it. About them.

You go home and ask your father for advice, against your better judgment, and he sits you down with a can of orange soda like he always does, pats you on the shoulder and says, “Your first is always the hardest to get over,” as if he knows somehow that you’ll find someone else, and you want to believe that, but you also don’t. You don’t want to lose this, the strongest feeling you’ve ever had, because you’re not sure you’d be able to tell if you felt it again.

And it’s silly, isn’t it? You’re still just a kid. Time will pass. You’ll get over it.

But instead you wake up in a cold sweat, chasing ephemeral dreams of their touch, their desire, you want so badly to be wanted that you can’t sleep anymore for fear that these dreams will trap you in a fantasy world you don’t want to wake from.

You grow distant. You start eating lunch with another crowd - what lunch you can manage to keep down, anyway. You grow out your hair. You get a piercing. Change your wardrobe. Maybe if you become another person, you can forget what happened. But what you really hope is that if you become another person, they’ll love you. And that twisted hope is all that keeps you going. You avoid talking to them so you won’t inadvertently kill it.

Graduation day. They wave at you from across the amphitheater. You wave back. It’s the last time you interact in person.

Years pass. You get a bachelor’s degree. You meet someone. You get married. You have children. You don’t think about it anymore, you don’t think of them, you live your routine life just as you were supposed to, just as your parents before you did. Go to work Monday through Friday. Do chores on Saturday. Book club on Sunday. Repeat.

Ten years later, you happen to see their profile on social media. They look happy. They have a partner, too, and children, and the smile on their face is genuine. It warms your heart and then burns it. You’re happy they’re happy; you’re not happy.

Despite decades on their face, they’re as beautiful to you as ever, and you finally break down knowing you’ve wasted your life. You’ve wasted it with someone you never loved as much as you should have, could have, and yet there was never anything else you could have done. You really don’t want anyone else. The love in your heart boils and bubbles up into your esophagus and you choke and you vomit on the floor. It tastes like orange soda.

[angelguk]

jock!jaykay is your favourite boy! yes, this a childhood bestie!au. jaykay is gym rat who likes invading ocs personal space and likes bullying his bestie for being small and weak unlike him. or alternatively the one where jeongguk realises his bestie has giant boobs. listen to best friend by rex orange county. roughly 2k words. this is brain spew. boobie ogling.

You love Jeongguk.

It's a natural thing to say; a platonic affection for him that has steadily grown over the past decade of your intertwined lives. But, you never expected to develop this level of affiliation towards him. It happened by mistake. He’d stumbled into you at the playground in the middle of recess during one lonesome afternoon. Soft brown curls a halo on his round head and his doe eyes sparkling as he mumbled a compliment at the sandcastle you were knee-deep in constructing. You’d taken one glance at the boy, noted how your stature towered over him and then immediately enlisted his assistance in completing the mammoth of the sandcastle you were creating. He’d lit up — bright like the burning sun behind his tiny figure —  jumping in with zero hesitation; small hands quick and sure as he stuffed sand into buckets. He never opposed any of your suggestions, considering them with a timid nod of his head and a tiny sheepish smile that revealed the delightful dips in his cheeks. It was beguiling, how quickly you grew attached to the smart but shy boy who’d wormed his way into your heart. Since then the two of you have been attached at the hip. Everyone knew you in relation to each other. Jeongguk wasn’t Jeongguk unless you were around and the same was for you. You’d spent sleepless nights at his house, huddling under the thick blankets of the fort you’d built in his living room, exchanging horror stories with the aid of a flashlight he’d nicked from his dad’s toolbox. Even his extended families adored you; random aunts and uncles sending cryptic messages via WhatsApp once every blue moon. And he knew yours too —  you’re certain that your mother likes Jeongguk more than she likes you. There was even a designated toothbrush for him perched on your bathroom counter, for days Jeongguk was too lazy to go back to his own home. It was wonderful, having that reassurance in your relationship, a steady rock that you clung to amidst the harsh wild seas of life.

And then puberty hit.

Suddenly, Jeongguk was taller than you. His jaw was more defined, shoulders broadening seemingly overnight. Your sleepovers vanished, Jeongguk preferring to hole himself in his room alone. He wasn’t the only one who felt the effects of your ageing. You never thought Jeongguk had noticed it, the way your body had subtly changed throughout your teenage years, the rapid blossoming of your chest because he always treated you the same. The shit-eating grin and snarky comments that appeared at the beginning of freshman year never subduing. That was until one day, he did notice.

“You stink,” you say. And it’s true. He’s just come from lacrosse practice, your bedroom door kicked wide open and his gym bag dumped on your floor. His smelly socks leak from the opened zipper, wafting through the room with dangerous intent. The smile he shoots in your direction grips your heart, digging deep enough to send a thrill through your system. You swallow hard, gaze ripping from his rosebud lips. It settles on your laptop screen with tangible resignation, the sudden spike in your heart rate not completely lost on you.

“Nice to see you too, bestie,” Jeongguk returns, eagerly padding over to your bed. You hold out a leg to his intruding figure, halting him in his steps. From here you can see the sheen of sweat clinging to his golden skin, the muscles in his arm defined beneath the loose fabric of his practise shirt. There’s a strange heat forming in your gut, and you have to take in a small breath before you can let your gaze falter on his. His honey eyes are warm, the glittering in his gaze drawing you close. Even the damp mussed hair on his head has arranged itself into perfectly defined curls. They tumble into his face, crowning him in an innocence that tugs at your heart. There’s an itch in your fingertips. You wonder whether you're allowed to tuck them aside, away from obscuring his pretty eyes.

“Do not come on my bed smelling like the pits of a sewer, Jeon Jeongguk.” You say that instead, settling your mouth into a firm scowl. He whines in relation, swift hands yanking at the hem of his shirt.

“I showered at school! I don’t smell that much — you’re being over dramatic.” Your mattress dips under the weight of his knee but the foot that smacks into his chest prevents him from crawling any further into your space.

“And yet I can still smell you — not my fault you can’t. You reek, Jeon. Go take another shower before you even think of lying on my sheets.” Your laptop wavers precariously on your lap when Jeongguk clasps his large hands around your calves, gently shoving your foot off his chest. You hadn’t discerned how… Big his hands had gotten.

The corresponding flutter you feel in your tummy the moment that realisation strikes feels like imminent death.

“Fine, fine. I’ll go shower.”  Jeongguk sighs like you’re the one causing him an inconvenience, shifting off your bed. Your mouth is already open, a retort tipping off your tongue. But then he’s hauling his sweat-drenched shirt over his head, the moment so swift and fluid you don’t even note how your heart halts in your chest. It starts a second later before abruptly falling into cardiac arrest because your gaze lands on his chiselled chest. You never truly registered how buff Jeongguk was. You knew he worked out, the insane regime he’d concocted the only thing he could talk about for months on end. Coach had him doing some insane sets at the gym and coupled with his weekly lacrosse practises it rapidly added up. You knew he was somewhat of a brawny guy. But Jeongguk preferred to wear his old baggy sweats around you and didn’t put much effort into his wardrobe for school. If it was black and clean it was going on. The look was effortless, simple and understated like Jeongguk was. So nothing could ever have prepared you for this. Hard lines of muscles forming his abdomen, flexing at the slightest movement as he tosses his shirt to the ground, a tiny ruffle of his curls accompanying the action. He’s glorious, warm skin glowing as if the sun is trapped within it. Perhaps you blink, blinded by the vision before you. An Adonis at the foot of your bed, shorts tugged low enough to reveal the band of his underwear. And, to make matters worse, the sharp-angled lines that direct your gaze right to his crotch.

You don’t think about it. You can’t. Another hard swallow hits your throat as you rise, arm outstretched to whack him hard across the head, the desire spurring in your guts short-circuiting your brain.

“Ow! What the hell was that for.” The pout he hits with you sends a wave of heat to your cheeks. You respond by landing a rough punch to his brawny shoulder.

“Why are you getting naked in my room?” Your voice sounds like an entity outside of your body, head still not comprehending the naked teenage boy in front of you.

“You told me to go shower!” Jeongguk retorts.

“Your house is a five-minute walk away! What made you think I meant in my house?” He catches the next punch you throw at him. There’s a thrill that surges fast when his large hands enclose around your wrists, grip taut. You tumble into his arms with a sharp tug, your chest colliding into his firm one.

“We used to share baths as kids. Why can’t I use your shower?” he murmurs. His voice is soft, wrapping around you promptly, like poison settling in your system. You abhor the tremor sweeps through you.

“Cause that was when we were kids! Look at you now! You’re all — all — all —,” your gaze falters downwards, hitting the rise of his pecs. It doesn’t take much for him to spot the heat that floods your face, a smile tugging the corner of his lips upwards.

“I’m all what?” Jeongguk implores. He flexes one of his pecs for good measure, a tiny laugh floating from his mouth when he spots how fast your eyes flicker from his chest.

“You’re a dickhead,” you retort, ripping your hands from his hold. Jeongguk lets you go, but when you glance up, there's a caution in his eyes that makes your skin prickle. “Go use your bathroom, you dingus. Come back when you don't smell like a garbage can.”

“But why,” Jeongguk whines. “Your bathroom is right there — like right there. It’s not like you’ve never seen me naked before.”

“Get out of my house before I kick you in the balls, Guk.” For some reason, you poke at his chest, fingertip landing right between the dip of his defined pectoral muscles. His hand snatches yours before you can rip them away, head cocking to the side mischievously. You know you’ve fucked up the second that smile hits his lips, the grip on your hand a warning.

“I’d like to see you try.”

“Jeon Jeongguk, you stupid bastard, you’ll end up infertile if I hit you the way I want to right now.”

“Ooh, I’m so scared.” He tenses his biceps on purpose, feigning a shiver at your empty threat. The quiver in your knees is betraying. “Like I couldn’t body slam you into this bed right now.” It’s like the light clicks in his head the moment the words drift from his tongue. You didn’t even get a chance to protest, a scream lodged in your throat as his arms swiftly enclosing around you, plucking you right off the bed as if you were a feather. He keeps you suspended for a moment, paying no heed to the pounding of your fists on his broad back, his shoulder digging right into your stomach before he flings you right back into the mattress.

“JEONGGUK!” If your laptop is broken you’re going to kill him. It’s as simple as that. He doesn’t give you time for recovery though, brain still whirring when his broad chest smacks into you. “Ow! What is wrong with you? Get off! Get off!”

The bastard giggles, smothering you under the weight of his bulky body, the mattress pressing hard into your back. You prod and pinch and punch until he grows tired of it, snatching up your wild fists with a quick hand. They hit the pillow over your head with a muted thud, arms stretched out as he shuffles over you. The movement has the material of his shorts bunching up at his crotch. You swear you don’t look, gaze shifting to the taut muscles of his stomach. But that’s worse, your thighs clamping together as heat blooms between them. You’re forced to settle on his face, a tiny whine escaping your lip as he traps you beneath him. But then you realise Jeongguk is not staring at your face, his honey eyes locked on the sway of your chest every time you squirm beneath him. You hadn’t thought about the shirt you’d yanked over your head when you’d gotten home today, picking it solely for the sun scorching outside. The heat had leaked into the house, warm enough for you to forgo one of your usual loose sweatshirts. But it’s a low cut, the rounds of your chest on display for all to see. Even when you lurch up, attempting to knee him in the groin, your chest bounces and his eyes follow, rose lips parted in thought. He catches your erratic leg with ease though, pinning you to the sheets effortlessly.

There’s a lot going on in your head, too much to sift through at the moment. But there’s no denying the fast flutter in your cunt, heat rippling through your nerves as you sit in a silence that feels suffocating. When bites his lip, you ignite. It feels like too much, too quick. A crack in the ice barrier between the two of you, the dam of unresolved emotions behind it threatening to break past and down you.

“Jeongguk…” You try, wafting through this sudden tension. He hums, a low sound that echoes deep inside of you. “What are you doing?” It’s innocent enough to allow the situation to dissipate, give the both of you a moment to gather yourself, sweep this under the rug and move on like it never happened.

He cocks his head instead, contemplating with a quick sneak of his tongue along his petal lips, still staring at your chest. “Uh, realising something.” He pauses like he doesn’t want to ask but question floats out like he can’t help himself. “When did your boobs get so huge?”

[jawabear]

1 of 10 (Bucky Barnes x Reader)

Not my GIF (look at this man...)

A/N: so here’s that Bucky fic I’ve been talking about. This took me too long to write but I like it? I’m absolutely loving Falcon and The Winter Soldier! I’ve mentioned this before but Bucky Barnes is my all time favourite fictional character. This is set before the events of episode one but maybe like a week or so before. I hope you enjoy. Sorry for any mistakes. Stay safe.

Genre: fluff, angst

Warnings: fem!reader, tfatws spoilers, Bucky being awkward, nightmares, therapy, Bucky isn’t as smooth as he was in the 40s but he’s still cute

Summary: Bucky has ten contacts in his phone. One of which belongs the the girl he feels he has been searching for for 106 long years.

The times in which he found himself now were more than confusing. But that was the best way Bucky could think to describe them. For him though it seemed a lot worse than for others. For others, they had a gap of five years missing. For Bucky, he had far more than that.

From 1943 to 2023 there was a lot missing. He remembered it however. He remembered everything. The good, the bad, and the horrifying. What was meant by missing was that it wasn’t him who was living. He had missed out on living between those years. He had missed out on everything. And he knew, like the billions of others, he would never get those years back.

But now he was a civilian. Working to make amends from his past after being given a pardon. However, settling into his new easy life was proving far from that. It had been a few months now since the whole ordeal with saving the blipped half of humanity, Bucky included, and it had been a few months now since Steve went back in time and started a new life leaving him and Sam behind.

Sam. Right.

Sam was an avenger. More so than Bucky could ever be. So he was off doing his avenging work while Steve’s shield gathered dust in a wardrobe somewhere he was sure. Sam didn’t have it in him to take up the mantle of Captain America. He felt the shield belonged to someone else. It was Steve’s. It only ever could be.

More often than perhaps Bucky would like, he would get texts from Sam. Asking him how he was and telling him about missions he was going on. Bucky never replied. He didn’t know how to half the time and he didn’t want to.

He didn’t know how he was. He didn’t know if he was okay. He was forced to go see a therapist but all he did was lie to her.

“Have you had any nightmares recently?” She would ask him.

Bucky would think back to the night before their meeting and all the others as well. Each night he’d have to be faced with the horrors of his past. Every mission he carried out. Every person he carelessly killed.

“No” he would answer. And it wasn’t like he was wrong in his answer. The things he saw in his sleep were not nightmares they were memories. The nightmarish horrors he was were his reality, so when he said no in response to her question, he found it difficult to be accused of lying.

There were few things he could agree with her about. But the one thing he could see eye to eye with her about was the fact he was alone.

Sure, he had Sam. But only when Bucky wanted to acknowledge him which had not been often as of recently. And as his therapist so kindly pointed out he only had ten contacts on his phone. But in his defence, he still wasn’t used to the whole world of mobile communications and internet. So his phone was basically redundant to him. His mind was still in the 1940s where you’d find a date, what would now be classed as, the old fashioned way. By looking in person and talking. Not just texting or swiping left or right on an app.

Granted, Bucky did try his hand in online dating but it was far too much for him. It wasn’t only hard for him to figure out but also he saw too much of people he didn’t even know. The openness of the internet was something that was mind boggling to him. So that was thrown out of the window pretty quickly.

But what his therapist had failed to note was one name in his contacts. The name of his neighbour and quite possibly the one he wanted to end his loneliness with.

Back in his time, when he didn’t just have the looks of someone in their 20s, Bucky was in fact quite popular and good with the ladies. But the ladies, he found, of this new age were completely different to the ones of his time. Not that there was a problem, he just knew that he couldn’t used the same moves now as what he could back then.

He met (Y/N), his neighbour, as he was first moving in. After coming back, loosing Steve and getting a pardon, Bucky thought it be best to try and start a new. He did that by moving back to his old home of Brooklyn. His old apartment was obviously gone and with little money to his name he couldn’t afford the one that replaced it. It was far to big for him anyway. But he managed to find a smaller more affordable one and he much preferred it. If not only for the quieter location then the others in the building too.

(Y/N) was the first person he spoke too when back in Brooklyn. She was sweet and kind when introducing herself. She offered to help him move in but he really didn’t have that much stuff to use in making his new apartment more homely. And he had no food either. So (Y/N) did the neighbourly thing and invited him in for some food. A meal of sorts although she didn’t have much food either at the time. Even so, it was nice for him to be in company for once. And it was such warm company. They didn’t speak about much but he learnt a few things about her.

And now, on most Thursday evenings, he’ll find himself with her in her apartment eating a meal, sometimes she’ll cook, sometimes they’ll order take out, but he enjoys it regardless.

It was clear from the offset that she knew who he was. He frantically explained to her that he wasn’t what he used to be anymore and explained the terms of his pardon and how he’s making amends. But he needn’t have waste his breath on it. She didn’t seem to care about it. About who he used to be. She told him that she doesn’t live in peoples pasts and that she wanted to get to know him for who he is, not who he was. Those words meant a great deal to him. And from that moment on he had fallen for her.

Bucky sighed as he dragged himself up the stairs to his floor. He desperately wished there was some way of getting out of these therapy sessions. But he was tied to them. He couldn’t stop going to them even though he wanted too. But there, it wasn’t really like he had anything better to do. Nothing but either sitting at home in silence or walking around busy streets constantly looking over his shoulder. Those were his only other options.

As he walked to his apparent at the end of the hallway (Y/N)’s door opened and she walked out dressed for the outdoors, it was getting cold so it was smart of her to be wearing a warm coat. “(Y/N)” he called gently to her. She lifted her head after locking her door and gave him a warm smile.

“Hi James” She said, she always called him James rather than Bucky. He didn’t know why but he didn’t exactly mind. “How was your session today?” She had memorised the times at which he went to his therapy sessions. She probably knew he schedule better than he did.

Bucky shrugged “the usual” he told her making her laugh a little.

“That bad huh?”

“I guess” he said scratching the back of his neck.

“Well, I’m heading to the store to get some food if you wanted to talk on the way? Don’t feel you have to”

“No, that sounds good” he tried to smile but it was a little awkward, but she didn’t seem to say anything and just motioned her head for him to follow.

The shop wasn’t too far away so it was a quick walk. Bucky wasn’t the talkative type, not really anyway. Especially not to someone he didn’t like. And Dr Raynor was someone who he didn’t like. He was sure that deep down she was a lovely person but he didn’t like the fact she was insistent in getting him to admit his feelings. Although that was her job.

It wasn’t long until they arrived at the store “so what happened?” (Y/N) asked as she picked up a basket.

“Just the usual...she asked me if I had a nightmare-“

“Did you?” Bucky didn’t answer and just looked away from her. “James, you know that it’s her job to help you. And it’s in your best interest to let her”

“I know...but at the same time...I don’t see the point. These things are mandatory. So if I don’t want to go then I don’t see it being helpful”

“I can understand that” her eyes flicking between two boxes of cereal as she inwardly decried in which one to get, but her indecisive nature got the better of her so she opted to get both. Her indecisiveness, Bucky thought, was incredibly cute. It linked in with her kindness, on their Thursday evening meals together it takes ages just to decide what to have. “But still,” she continued, Bucky following her like a lost puppy “like you said, it’s mandatory. And there are people who would love to be in your position. Getting therapy I mean. So you should at least make the most of it while you can”

“I mean...yeah. I guess. But...I don’t know I just...well it’s easier to talk to someone like you then it is to talk to her” (Y/N) smiled at little at this as she finished putting on the last few items before making her way to the till.

Neither of them said much else. Expect for (Y/N) making light conversation with the cashier as she paid although both (Y/N) and Bucky knew that the cashier really didn’t want to be there. Luckily it didn’t take long for (Y/N) to bag her items and pay for them before they were both leaving the store.

It had gotten colder outside then when they left originally. (Y/N) shivered and pulled her coat around her a little more before they both began walking back to their apartment building.

“So what is it about me that makes you find it easier to talk?” She asked, she brushed her hair from her face as a sudden gust of wind blew it out of place when she turned to look at him.

“Well...” he muttered shoving his hands into his pockets “for one, you don’t sit there with a passive aggressive notebook ready to write shit about me” this made her laugh a little, she always found it funny when he’d talk about this notebook Dr Raynor had. She didn’t really know why he hated it so much, and she knew she shouldn’t have found it funny but he never stopped her from laughing about it, in fact often times he would join in thereby encouraging her.

“Yes, that is something better I guess. Although, I’m sure I could find a notebook if you wanted” she teased.

“Oh god. Please don’t” He said holding back a smile.

“Anything else?” She asked him.

Bucky thought for a moment. There were many things about her that made it easier for him to talk to her, but he couldn’t list them all. For one, that would be embarrassing, and two he didn’t think he’d have the breath to do it. “Well-“

He was cut off when he saw (Y/N)’s smile fall and her pace began to slow right down to a stop. Bucky stopped and looked at her “everything okay?” He asked her, his voice full of concern.

She turned sharply to the side so she was facing the road “y-yeah..” she stuttered nervously “just...my ex is walking this way and I really don’t want him to see me”

Bucky felt a strange feeling inside him. He didn’t even know she had been in a relationship. It must’ve been a recent thing right? Unless it was a really bad break up in the past, or this guy had done something to her to prompt her being so on edge. Bucky turned to try and scope out this guy but he didn’t have a clue what he was looking for. So he reached over to her and pulled up her hood on her hoodie that she wore under her coat and pulled her into his side so that her face was hidden from view.

“Tell me when he’s gone” Bucky muttered to her. She nodded her head and let him walk her along the path, she kept her eye on the path ahead as best she could while still covering her face. But she was now more focused on two things, his arm around her and his wonderful smell. Never did she think she’d ever get this close to him. She never thought he’d let her, but here she was attached to his side with his arm wrapped around her, holding her protectively against him.

And his smell. It was just as comforting as she dreamed it would be. A mix of his cologne and what she could only describe as Him. All she wanted to do now was to just melt into his strong and warm embrace and just stay there forever.

In all her daydreaming she didn’t notice that her ex had long since walked by and they had reached the entrance to their apartment building and she didn’t tell him he could let go or that it was safe for her to walk properly.

Bucky came to a stop and slowly slipped his arm from her “I mean...I take it he’s gone now right?” He said a little nervously. (Y/N) stood up straight and pushed the hood from her head and nodded quickly, her cheeks burning in embarrassment.

“Yeah. Yes, right. Sorry. Yes. He’s gone. I um...I just wanted to make sure he didn’t suddenly turn around you know? That’s all” she said in an unconvincing tone. But Bucky himself was too flustered to actually care that she was flustered as well.

“Of course, that’s smart. Well we made it back” he said stepping up to the door and pushing it open for her. She nodded and thank you and quickly hopped inside the building, Bucky following after her.

The walk up the stairs was an awkward silence. They felt like teenagers after their first ever date. Who says something first? What do they even say? Luckily for them, this wasn’t a first date, and they weren’t teenagers. They were fully grown, mature adults. But that doesn’t mean adults can’t get flustered in the presence of their crush...right?

After what felt like hours, but was more like five painstaking minuets, they finally got to their floor and walked down the hall, both briefly forgetting that they lived right next to each other.

(Y/N) stopped at her door and placed her bag of food on the floor to fish out her keys from her pocket. “Uh...you want to come in?” She asked whilst fiddling around in her pocket to find the keys. “I know it’s not Thursday but we didn’t really talk as much as usual...” her voice seemed to trail off as she finally found her keys and put them in the key hole before unlocking the door. “You don’t have too..”

“I’d...like to...” he said in a soft voice with a gentle smile to try and put her at ease even though he too was freaking out inside. She smiled back and picked up her bag before walking inside her apartment, he did too.

They both made their way into her small kitchen and he made himself at home by sitting in his usual seat at her white kitchen table and she began to unpack the shopping “Do you want me to help?” He asked her as he went to stand up but she waved off his offer.

“No no, it’s fine. There’s only a few bits anyway” she told him as she began to pack each item away in its rightful place.

“So uh...” Bucky began quietly as he scraped his metal finger again the wood table. “This ex of yours...what’s the story there?”

Bucky was a little cautious of his words. He didn’t want to say anything to hurt or offend her but at the same time he wanted to know what about the guy made her so on edge earlier.

“Oh uh...” she muttered as she pulled two cups from her cupboard.

“You don’t need to tell me if you want want to. Sorry..”

“It’s fine” she assured him “nothing really happened I guess. It was just a bad break up. He didn’t really take it well and for a few weeks after that he just kept texting me and trying to call me. He came round to my place too to try and get me back. He never did know how to take no for an answer. But about a month ago he finally got the message and stopped all contact with me. Seeing him today...I was just worried that he’d try it all again”

“He sounds like a real asshole” Bucky said flatly making her laugh a little as she went about making some tea for the both of them. “But in his defence, if I lost a girl like you, I’d struggle with taking no for an answer as well”

(Y/N) let out a nervous laugh and almost dropped his tea cup from the shock of his comment but she was a little more used to his flirtatious nature that would sometimes make an appearance when they were in her apartment. After he told her about his boyish charms back in the 40s she noticed how he would often slip back into that era. It was cute to say the least.

She set down his tea in front of him and he flashed her a “thank you” smile before wrapping his fingers around it.

There was a brief silence in the room. She was greatly over thinking is earlier comment. But so was he. Maybe he shouldn’t have said it. He meant it though. But what if he had pushed the limit a little too far?

“What was the other reason?” She asked him, her finger nail scratching again the tea cup trying to avoid eye contact with him at all costs.

“Huh?” He questioned looking over the table to her.

“Earlier. You were going to give me another reason why I’m easier to talk to. What was it?”

Bucky’s muscles tensed as his fingers gripped the tea cup handle as he stared into the black tea she had made for him. “If I’m being honest...” he began slowly “I think...there are too many reasons why I find talking to you easier. But I guess one is that you don’t do it because you have to or it’s your job to. You do it out of kindness. And it’s...easier to talk to someone who’s listening because they want to. And yes, I get that Dr Raynor probably does want to help me but I also know that at the end of the day, it’s all for a pay check. But with you...you do it because you want to. Or at least...I think you want to”

“I do want to, James. I’ll always be around to ask if you’re okay. And to make you okay when you’re not. I care about you...”

“And...I care about you. Another reason I prefer talking to you is because...I like you...a lot. I just think you’re the most beautiful woman, and you have such a sweet and caring nature and a good heart that is wasted on me. But I can’t help but like you...” he couldn’t really believe he just said what he did. He wasn’t mean to tell her that. It was meant to stay a secret within him into the end of time. But there was a shift in atmosphere that just made it all slip out.

“You...you like me?” She asked, still not looking at him.

“Yeah...” he said. There was a little more confidence in his voice as he admitted his feelings towards her.

“I like you too..” she too held a little more confidence in her voice as she admitted her returned feelings. It felt...good. Especially since she knew he returned the feelings she had harboured for him since they met.

She stood abruptly and held her hand out to him. He looked at it and looked up at her again before taking her hand. She pulled him to his feet and a little close to her.

He smirked a little as he looked down at her “you want me to kiss you or something?” He said almost proudly.

“Yes..” she said “but first...I want to know something”

“What do you want to know?” He asked her. She squeezed his hand and dragged him out of her kitchen.

She lead him to her bedroom and noticed the worried expression on his face when he looked at her bed. This was what she wanted to know.

“You don’t have a bed in your apartment...” She told him quietly. (Y/N) turned her body so she was facing him completely, he cautiously lifted his hands to settle on her waist.

“I know...” he mumbled.

“Why?”

Bucky paused but he felt safe enough to give her an honest answer “I...I’m...scared. Of them”

“What is it about a bed that scares you?” She whispered, her fingers gently trailing down his cheeks. Bucky didn’t answer right away, for one he was to busy focusing of the beautiful touch of her hands, and for another, he didn’t really know the answer to her question. But he could take a guess.

“Because I...I don’t think I’ve slept in one since 1943. And I...after everything I’ve done...I don’t deserve to lie in such luxury...” his voice was quiet and barely audible, had it not been for the close proximity they were in, she probably wouldn’t have heard him.

“James...” she laid her forehead against his and he instinctively griped her waist a little tighter. The comfort and warmth she was bringing him was something he didn’t want to loose. She was someone he didn’t want to loose. He felt safer with no one but her. For once he actually felt...okay. But he felt he was holding her too tightly, but if he was she was wasn’t willing to tell him that.

“You know that you have no reason to be afraid. You are changing. You are becoming a good man. You do deserve to live in luxury, even if that starts with sleeping in a proper bed. Maybe it is scary for you...but...if you’ll allow me, I’ll help you face it”

“Please...” he whispered with a nod before pressing his lips to hers.

05/04/21

Taglist: @lunaserenade @phoenixhalliwell @slytherin4ever

[mediocre-writerr]

don’t let me let you go [katherine pierce]

katherine pierce x fem reader

requested: Hi! Sorry, can I request a Katherine Pierce x Fem!Reader?

Maybe where reader is a powerful being, well since demons are real in that universe, maybe a fallen angel? Or something along those lines, and they met along somewhere where Kat was still on the run, so they like hooked up but Kat promises that they'll meet again soon and makes the reader promise that they should be safe as well?

And then years later they accidentally meet up at a party, started dating and Kat is actually soft when it comes to reader. Elena and the gang barge into Katherine and Reader doing something fluffy because they were actually hunting down Katherine since they think that Reader is her next victim or whatever.

Thank you in advance!

*not my gif*

So you left.

Katerina Petrova was how you knew her. Still know her at least, she hasn’t really left your mind since then.

And that was back in 1764.

You could feel what she was. She wasn’t human and her compelling tricks made no match for you. She was arrogant like most vampires were, but she slipped past all your defenses and fell in love with her, no matter how “wrong” it was back then.

“Lady Katerina Petrova, this is Lady Y/N Y/L/N. She’s the owner of the great estate. Her family actually passed recently in a terrible sunken ship, somehow Y/N survived.” one of your noblemen introduced the two of you, after you sensed she was a vampire.

She eyed you carefully and you just smiled at her. Before whispering a ‘thank you’ to the man. The two of you embarked into a formal conversation until you were the only ones left in the room.

“So what are you?” she asked, bluntly.

You chuckled softly, intrigued by the beautiful brunette, “You don’t skip the niceties now do you?” you asked.

“Niceties aren’t my thing,” she shrugged.

“Neither are they mine.”

You were snapped out of your vivid memory when Stefan waved his hand in front of you. You shook your head and he just laughed at you.

“I think they’re here.” he whispered. You and the rest of the gang were at Mystic Falls Grill waiting for Caroline to come back to introduce you to someone who has been blackmailing and torturing them for a couple years now.

You recently moved to Mystic Falls and Stefan felt how different you were compared to everyone else. So he confronted you just like every other supernatural you’ve met in the past how many years.

From there he introduced you to the rest of the gang: annoyingly arrogant, yet good looking brother Damon, pretty blonde Caroline, supernatural hunter, yet working with supernatural beings Alaric, selfless, doesnt get enough credit witch Bonnie, and lastly, the one who looked like a split image of the one who got away Elena.

They thought you’d be a great asset to them, seeing how you can see how/when someone dies and how any supernatural being can be killed. Just one of the perks of being a fallen angel. You reluctantly agreed to help them and they want to know your take on how to kill this person named Katherine Pierce.

You lifted up your head to see her. It wasn’t Elena, you knew that for a fact. Because Elena has been here the entire time. Her hair was in looser curls nowadays and her wardrobe certainly changed as well. But it suit her, the confident bold woman you knew, wearing a black leather jacket and jeans.

Her eyes landed on yours and she remained her natural composed self, “Katherine, this is Y/N Y/L/N, she just recently moved to Mystic Falls.”

“So what are you?” she asked, bluntly.

You chuckled softly, your first conversation popping back in your brain, “You don’t skip the niceties now do you?”

“Niceties aren’t my thing.” and you could tell she’s fighting back a smile of her own.

“Neither are they mine.”

After the rest of the day of Katherine picking fights with everyone, but you. You excused yourself to the bathroom while they were pressing Katherine for what she really wants here.

Memories flashed into your kind again causing you to become lost in thought as you washed your hands.

“Goodnight Katerina. Sleep well.” you said, formally at her doorway. You were about to turn back around when she called out after you.

“Y/N, come in please,” she said.

You smiled to yourself softly, as you made your way into her room. You closed the door behind you as you sat next to her on the foot of her bed.

“Do you mind helping me take this off? The zipper’s stuck and I suppose my arms don’t reach that far back,” she suggested.

She looked at you with pleading eyes and you nodded softly. Slowly, unzipping her zipper and you did what you thought you’d never do in your life. Be bold.

You kissed the bare skin that became exposed on her back. She turned her head to look back at you and you could see the lust filling her eyes. She stood up and you followed her movement as the dress fell to the floor like a puddle.

And that’s when she turned you around, repeating the same actions you took. The only thing left on the two of you were the corsets. She cupped your cheeks ever so slightly.

“Are you sure about this?” this was probably the first time you’ve ever seen her gently and soft-spoken, “You’re a very beautiful girl Y/N, many more suitors are worthy of your love. Much more better suitors with their name and money.”

You pressed a gentle kiss to her lips, savoring in the way she tastes. The way her lips were so soft against yours, “What I’ve learned in my entire lifetime on this Earth and being a fallen angel is that falling in love with someone is falling in love with their soul. Not their money or their name, their soul.”

Yet another comforting kiss was pressed to her lips, “And I never found that. Until you, Katerina.”

You thought you were alone as you watched your hands when you could feel a presence behind you. In the mirror you could see her leaning her back against a bathroom stall.

“It’s been a while,” she spoke up and you nodded.

“A few thousand years, give or take.” you joked and she chuckled along with you.

She took a step closer to you, tucking the hair to behind your ears. You mirrored her images, following a step forward. The two of you only a breath apart.

“You kept your promise?” she asked you, moving her hands to cup your cheek. As if she was trying to memorize every little feature. From the way your eyes lit up at the sight of her or the way you were melting under her touch.

It was the morning after you and Katerina expressed your feelings for one another. In a more untraditional, intimate kind of way.

She was singing you a soft song in another language, which you’re assuming is Bulgarian. And the usual confident girl was playing with your hair, looking at your beautiful sleeping figure. She didn’t want to wake you up, but she was unsure if any of the workers were looking for you.

Then there was the fact that she had to go. She didn’t want to leave you, but earlier that night her insight told her Klaus was coming. She had to get as far away as she possibly could. So she pressed a soft kiss to your forehead.

Your eyes fluttered up, smiling at the girl in front of you. But then ultimately frowning when you saw the same frown on her face.

“What’s wrong?” you asked softly.

“I must go Y/N. I’ve done things, things people don’t like. And they’re coming after me, so we must part ways. For my safety and yours.” she said and you look at her with eyebrows furrowed, “I promise you Y/N, the only I want right now is to lay here with you. Compel all these people and live our immortal lives, but I need to go.”

“Katerina, no,” your voice barely above a whisper.

She kissed your forehead, then your cheeks, the top of your nose, and finally your lips, “I promise you, I’ll find you one day. We’ll be together. But you need to promise me to stay safe. I would like you to be alive and well and waiting for me when I return.”

You didn’t know where this path would lead you. Every other path looked so certain, but this one was blurry. Yet, you nodded, “I promise, I’ll wait forever for you.”

“I did. I’d wait forever for you Katerina.”

She wrapped your arms around you and you did the same, holding the slightly taller girl closer to you. Relishing in the feeling of her touch, something you haven’t felt in thousands of years.

She swayed the two of you back and forth, “How about we go to the place I’m staying at?”

“Right now?” youvasked and she just hummed in response, “Let’s go.”

It probably wasn’t the best idea for you to not answer your phone when you left or to give them a heads up that you were heading home. But the gang became worried when you didn’t come back from the bathroom and Katherine disappeared as well.

But you were fine. You were just in a state of bliss. The way the two of you were just cuddled up in bed. Your head resting on her chest as she just held you, playing with the soft strands of your hair.

You began to fall asleep as she sang you the same Bulgarian song she once sang. Your eyes closed as you focused on her heartbeat and soothing voice.

Until someone came barging in through the door. Your eyes shot back open and the gang was standing there waiting to fight. Except for Bonnie who was shocked at what she was witnessing

Katherine groaned, “Can you all just go away? She’s not in any harm, I swear.”

“Wait. How do you know each other?” Alaric asked.

You knew she would handle this so you just continued to keep lying in the spot without saying a word, “We’ve met before, long before the two of you.” she pointed at the two brother.

“So are you two a thing?” Caroline asked, her eyebrows furrowed.

And you finally spoke up, “Yeah. We promised to wait for each other until we could actually meet again.”

“But she’s an actual bitch!” Damon exclaimed.

“Maybe in your eyes, Damon. But Katerina has a strong beautiful soul who has lost many things. I’m very willing to give all my love to her.” you told them.

All of them looked skeptic like she just compelled you. Until Bonnie finally spoke up, “Whatever you do Y/N, we’ll respect your decisions,” she said and you smiled at her gratefully.

Stefan took a few steps closer, “You hurt her in any way, I will not hesitate to stake you in the heart myself.”

Katerina didn’t say anything. All she did was stare right back at Stefan, “Can you guys please go now? You’re making the room smell like some weird stench.” The gang left much to Damon’s hesitation, “Now where were we?”

You got comfortable again in her strong embrace. She smiled at you softly, pressing a kiss to the top of your head, as she returned to sing the Bulgarian song.

“I love you, my Katerina.” you mumbled, lazily as your eyes fell close.

So you missed the wide smile that formed onto her face and the way her whole eyes were lit up. She hugged you back, tighter than ever, “And I love you, my beautiful soul.”

[maddiwrites]

Secret Lives (Part 3)

Pairing: JJ x Reader

Summary: You and JJ never got along so your friends trap the two of you on a boat in the middle of the marsh to work it out. Only it doesn’t go as planned. 

Note: Hey guys! Remember this little series I wrote? A lot of people asked for a part three and I truly had no plans to write one, but I came up with one for you if you if guys are even still interested, who knows. I don’t know how I feel about it. Kinda seems dramatic of me, but oh well. Its been in my drafts for forever so I’m finally posting it. Let me know!! If I tagged you, its because you were tagged in part 2 or asked to be tagged in part 3! 

Word count: 6k

Warnings: mentions of abuse, drugs, violence, and death

 Part 1   Part 2    Masterlist

The relationship you and JJ had transpired into something no one saw coming. Your friends thought your friendship was unsalvageable after what happened when they trapped you in the middle of the marsh with one another. You had reached your breaking point and they didn’t think you’d ever come back to them. But you did. Not only did you come back to them, but you came back to JJ. 

The two of you, once closed off around each other, were now inseparable. You spent almost every day together. You followed him around his work schedule and he snuck through your window any chance he got because he didn’t want to spend one night without you. Your family was surprisingly very accepting of JJ. Your mother was first worried, knowing how men on the Cut can grow into something/someone no parent would want for their daughter. And Andrew knew of Luke Maybank from word of mouth and was afraid JJ might be just like him. But the first night you invited him to dinner at your house, your parents welcomed him into your family. He was polite, mature, and personable throughout the whole meal. You remembered that night well. The morning of, he  called you panicking because he didn’t know what to wear. You told him to wear whatever he wanted, but he was afraid the Kildare County T shirt and cargo shorts wouldn’t send the right message. So you took him shopping on the mainland. Together you took the ferry and made him play dress up in stores you knew he couldn’t afford. He felt bad that you were paying for his new wardrobe, but you promised it was something you wanted to do because you would do anything to make him feel better about this night. That night he came to your door with a bouquet of flowers for your mother and a bottle of Scotch he told Andrew his dad bought for him for that night. Your little sister absolutely adored him, barely giving him enough time to kiss you hello or goodbye. 

You and JJ were more alike than either of you could even imagine. Your temper wasn’t as short as JJ’s, but you weren’t afraid of a fight when it presented itself to you. Your mother always said that’s what happens when you grow up on the Cut. You learn to fight for what you want and need. Most of the time JJ liked that about you. Seeing you standing up for yourself was a huge turn on to him and he felt prideful when onlookers would watch impressed because they didn’t expect a girl from Figure Eight to fight like that. He never let it get physical though even though he always thought it would be hot to see you in a cat fight with some rich bitch from your school. He cared too much about you to let you get hurt. 

You and JJ have another similarity no one outside of the Pogues know about. Although you hate it more than anything, you and JJ live through the trauma of having an abusive father. As if dealing with your father alone wasn’t stressful enough, he created a few fights between you and your boyfriend. JJ was constantly on your case when you were hiding a new bruise or silently frustrated from a previous conversation with your father. You tried not to find it overbearing because JJ was just concerned. You promised you’d stop seeing your father. It was easier for you than for JJ because you had another family to fall back on. A loving mother, a generous step father, and a boisterous little sister. The perfect family. Which is why you felt so guilty that they didn’t seem like enough. ‘Cause it didn’t matter how much money Andrew had, or if he said he loved you like his own, or that he promised you he would never hurt your mother on the day he proposed. He wasn’t your real dad. Your real dad was out there, living in filth and drugs. Without a second income, he couldn’t pay his bills or own a car to drive himself to work every day. He blamed that on you and your mother and you fell for his pity party every single time. 

JJ knew when you were lying. You’d wearing more clothes on the days you were hiding your skin and quieter on the days when you were thinking back to the hateful things your father yelled at you the day before. He hated that there was someone out there laying their hands on you and there was nothing he could do about it. JJ knew the kind of damage that could happen if he tried to physically intervene and it didn’t work. Every time he brought it up, it would only start a heated argument. You would bring up his own father and how JJ wouldn’t let you say anything to Luke, even on the days you two were face to face at Barry’s home with your own father. You hated that JJ thought he could come between you and your father, but you couldn’t do the same. It was hard to believe you two were using your own father’s against each other to prove a point.

Today was no different. It was sunny, cloudless day in the middle of the summer. Which meant the perfect boat day for you and your Pogues. John B was excited to fish, JJ and Pope were excited to swim, Kie to tan. And you? Well you weren’t excited all at. Because last night was a particularly bad night between you and your dad. 

He had taken you out to Barry’s again, forcing you to come inside so he could show you off like his own personal wallet. He drained you of another four hundred dollars after Barry threatened to shoot your father in the head if he didn’t get his money. And you hesitated. Not because you wanted your father to die, but because you had never had a gun pointed at another person in your vicinity. Ever. But that’s not how your dad took it. When you dropped him off, he had you come inside so he could give you his unpaid utility bills. When you least expected it, your dad shoved you hard into the countertop, the corner of it jabbing into your side. Even when you fell to the floor, your father didn’t stop kicking you in your stomach. He called you ungrateful and disloyal. He told you he wished you had never been born - how you ruin everything. You cried into the tiled floors until your dad tired himself out, grabbed a beer, and went to bed.

Your torso was covered in blue and purple bruises when you woke up. Even the warm water from you shower this morning felt like a million little needles pricking your skin.  You contemplated texting the Pogues, telling them you felt sick and that you couldn’t go today. But when you looked out the window and saw the perfect day, you didn’t want to miss out on the sun or a day out with your friends. Your father’s taken a lot from you, but you wouldn’t let him take this.

You wore a one piece bathing suit you had no intention of showing anyone today. JJ greeted you first when the Pogue pulled up to your dock. His arm wrapped around your waist, his hand lightly squeezing your side. You inevitably flinched but forced out a giggle to make it look like JJ had only tickled you. Not hurt you. No one thought anything of it. No one but JJ. He watched you with a narrowed gaze as you said your hellos to the others and popped a squat next to Kie and Sarah.

When John B docked the boat, everyone immediately undressed to get into the cool water.

“C’mon, babe. You’re my partner for Chicken,” JJ walked up to you, the two of you the only ones on the boat.

You looked up and admired his shirtless, toned body. His tan skin glowed against the North Carolina sun and you couldn’t understand how you got so lucky to call him yours.

Then you remembered your predicament and looked out towards your friends to avoid his stare. “I’m not feeling that great today, J.”

“What’s wrong?” JJ asked but he didn’t need to. He already knew what was wrong. He just wanted to see if you would lie about it again.

“Just nauseous,” you said, “I think I ate some bad eggs this morning or something.”

“Some bad eggs, huh?” JJ scoffed.

“JJ...” you sighed. You knew he didn’t buy your lame excuse. You wouldn’t either if it was the other way around.

“You went to see him again, didn’t you?” It wasn’t a question it was a statement.

“Can we not do this here? Please.” You practically begged. You knew this argument could get heated. It usually always did. Neither of you meant to get mad at one another. In the end, it was your dad who was in the wrong. But you guys didn’t like seeing the other one hurt. It was both frustrating and exhausting.

JJ rolled his eyes. “Whatever.” He dove into the water head first and swam out towards his friends.

You dropped your head on the boat’s steering wheel, your forehead thumping against it. You wished cutting ties with your dad was as it easy as it sounds. But now you know that Barry would kill your dad if you didn’t show up for him with the money he owed. And you couldn’t let that happen. It would feel like murdering your own father.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ 

A week later, you found yourself at another boneyard party with your friends. You tried your best to enjoy the night despite your boyfriend giving you the cold shoulder. He was still mad about the incident on the boat. The two of you fought about it when you got back to the Chateau. He knew you were holding something back from him. And you were. You never mentioned Barry or the drugs or the gun to him. As far as JJ knew, you paid your dad’s bills and took him out to lunch every once in a while. And you wanted to keep it this way - afraid of what he might think knowing you were spending time with not only a notorious drug dealer, but his own father.

“I’m gonna get another drink,” you tell Kie as the two of you watched JJ and John B play beer pong against two Tourons.

She nodded and kept her eyes trained on the winning Pogues.

Before you reached the keg, a hand wrapped around your wrist and pulled you away from the crowd, towards the water. When you looked up at who it was, you ripped your hand away and glared at the blonde Kook.

“Y/N -“

“What the hell do you want, Rafe?” You could tell he was high. His eyes wouldn’t stop flickering back between yours, his balance was off, and his pupils were dilated.

“I - I screwed up. I don’t have the money - I didn’t make enough money for Barry’s blow. He’s gonna kill me.”

“Hey, hey. Calm down,” you looked around to make sure no one was eavesdropping.

“You need to help me. You need to sell this -“ he tried shoving small baggies into your hands but you pulled yourself away like he was offering your a lit flame.

“Are you out of your mind. Put that away!”

“I wasn’t - wasn’t keeping track of how many people were using my shit. And then there was this girl -“

“Rafe, I can’t do this.”

“JJ can help. Yeah? His dad -“

“JJ stays out of this,” you took another step towards him so you were face to face with the Kook and he could see how serious you were, even through his high state of mind. “You hear me? JJ’s nothing like his dad and I swear to god I’ll kill you first if you say anything to him.”

“What am I supposed to do?” Rafe raised his voice, frustrated that he couldn’t come up with any other ideas of how he was supposed to get his money back.

“Hey!” You froze when another voice broke you and Rafe apart. JJ walked up from behind you and pointed his finger at the Kook. “What the hell do you think you’re doing? Get away from her.”

You let JJ pull you behind him but kept your eyes on Rafe, trying to warn him from saying anything to your already fired up boyfriend.

Rafe sniffled and took a step back. “Nothing, dude. Relax. Okay?”

“Didn’t look like nothing.”

“Rafe was just leaving,” you said and kept your eyes on Rafe.

“Y/N, you don’t understand. Barry -“

“Rafe!”

JJ’s head snapped in your direction and his brows furrowed in confusion. He knew that name. His dad’s mentioned that name before. It’s usually followed by coke prices.

Rafe just glared at you. “If I die, it’s on you.”

You swallowed the lump in your throat and looked down at the sand as Rafe walked away. JJ slowly turned to look at you as his brain scrambled to put the pieces together.

“Y/N...”

“I don’t want to talk about it.” You said quickly.

“How do you know Barry?” JJ pushed. He didn’t care if you didn’t want to talk about it. He was tired of letting you push him away.

“He’s my dad’s dealer, J. We’ve been over this.” You tried walking away from him but he grabbed your wrist to make you look at him.

“You been to his house?” JJ asked. When you didn’t answer, he took a step back and looked at you incredulously. “You work for him now?”

You glared at him. “Of course not!”

“Then -“

“My dad makes me pay for his shit, okay? And I can’t stop or else Barry will kill him.” You snapped. Tears pricked at your waterline and threatened to fall.

“Barry won’t kill -“

“He pointed a gun at his head the other day! I was there! I had to scoff up hundreds of dollars to save his life.” You shook your head. “And that still wasn’t enough to save myself from a stupid beating. So please stop telling me how much easier it is for me to escape him. Stop telling me how lucky I am to have such a great family to rely on. Because I don’t! If I don’t help my dad out, I might as well sign his death warrant myself.”

JJ’s heart physically cracked in his chest at the sight of you. You were falling apart. Here at a boneyard party, where you should be having fun and forgetting about your problems. But instead he pushed you too far, and although he was relieved to finally hear the truth from you, he wished it had been in the privacy of your home or the Chateau. When he looked over your shoulder, he saw the worried looks of the Pogues looking at them. He didn’t know if he heard them, but he hoped they hadn’t. He still needed time to process this without the pestering questions from his friends. Even if they meant well.

“Okay,” JJ said softly. “Okay. I won’t say anything. I’m sorry. Can we just - “ he sighed. “Can we just go back to the Chateau? I just wanna hold you.”

You sniffled and meekly nodded your head. You were angry and frustrated. But not at him. At Rafe. At your own father. At the world. And you just wanted your boyfriend too.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

That night, you fell asleep pretty fast. From your sore body, to the sleepless nights thinking about Barry and his threats, and the warmth of JJ’s body held against you, your exhausted state quickly took over you. You felt like you could sleep for hours.

JJ, however, did not. He stared up at the blank ceiling with his forearm tucked under his head as his other arm stayed wrapped around you. He couldn’t stop picturing you at Barry’s home with a bunch of old low lifes, scared and innocent. He wondered if his dad was ever there - if he ever said anything to you.

He hated that there wasn’t anything he could do for you unless your dad was gone.

Gone.

And idea popped into his head like someone flicked a light switch on in his brain. He turned his head, back and forth, looking for your phone. When he found it charging on his night stand, he stretched his arm out for it, careful not to wake up your sleeping figure.

He secretly knew your passcode after subtly watching you type it in a couple weeks ago.

His fingers tapped against your screen until he found the app he was looking for. Glancing down at you one last time, he shared your location with his phone.

When you squirmed in his embrace, JJ quickly put the phone back where he found it and pretended to be asleep in case you peeked an eye open at him. He hoped you didn’t feel his heart racing against his rib cage or his uneven breaths. He knew if you found out what he was doing, you’d be pissed. But before he fell asleep, he promised he was going to do anything necessary to keep you safe.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

On the day JJ knew you were going to be busy all day babysitting your neighbor’s kids, he rode his bike to Kildare County’s police station. He stared at the entrance for a long couple of seconds, hating every second of being in near proximity to this place. Basically going against every natural instinct he had to stay away and not trust the police.

But he was doing this for you.

He walked in, ignoring the couple of looks from officers he’s encountered over the years. They were mostly surprised he wasn’t being forced through the doors with his hands cuffed behind his back.

“I need to see Sheriff Peterkin, please.” JJ says politely.

The older woman looked JJ up and down. “Do you have an appointment?”

“It’s the fucking police station. Since when do you have to make appointments? You assume people are just gonna know when an emergency is going to happen?”

“Look kid -“

“JJ.” JJ turned and relief washed over him when he saw Sheriff Peterkin in the hallway looking at him confused but also concerned.

“I need your help.” JJ admitted. He hated cops. Probably always will. But he trusted Sheriff Peterkin. She’s always tried to help John B through his DCS struggles. She actually cared about what he wanted and never took the easy way out just to make her work load lighter. She remembered why she took the oath every day.

Peterkin never really liked the Maybank kid in particular, but she was able to see something in him pretty much every cop couldn’t. She saw the loyalty and the determination his friends saw. She could tell he didn’t want to grow up to be like his father.

She led him into her office and shut the door behind them for privacy. She gestured towards the seat in front of her desk and asked him to explain what was going on.

JJ’s mouth moved a hundred miles per minute. He told her how your mother didn’t know you would sneak out to see your dad despite the custody agreement. He mentioned the bills he made you pay and the bruises he would leave you despite your efforts to help him. He teared up when he mentioned his own dad - and how his father and your father had the same dealer. How your dad would make you go inside Barry’s home and use you like a a community bank account. He even told her about the gun Barry threatened to use on your dad right in front of you.

“Why are you tell me all of this?” Peterkin says slowly. She studied the boy in front of her who was slowly falling apart and felt sympathetic for the young blonde. It didn’t take a genius to know why JJ was telling her this.

“Because...y/n... she has a heart of gold,” JJ sniffled. “She won’t leave her dad behind to be homeless or killed because that man is her blood. It doesn’t matter if he beats her black and blue. She always goes back because she thinks she owes him.” He sighs. “I want him gone. I don’t care what you do to him. Arrest him, kill him. I don’t really care. Although the second choice sounds more strategic -“

“JJ -“

“And I don’t want her getting in any sort of legal trouble because it’s not her fault. She doesn’t do drugs or deal them or anything like that. She just stands there and watches her dad blow his money on coke and who knows what else. And her mom? Her mom has no clue what’s going on but it’s not her fault. Y/n is really good at hiding her pain. She forces a smile every day and -“ JJ’s breath hitched in his throat when he thought about how you faked your happiness every single day and how a girl like you should never feel as worthless as you do. “Her mom’s a good mom. And I don’t want people blaming her or taking Y/n away from her because they think she can’t control her -“

“Hey, look at me,” Peterkin says softly. She wanted to reach over the desk and squeeze his hand to comfort him. “I understand.”

“You do?”

“Yes. I remember having to visit their home when Mrs. Y/L/N was still married to him. Y/N mother’s a good woman. I wouldn’t let anyone come between them.”

“What about her dad? I tried convincing her to never see him again but she won’t do it. She’s afraid Barry will kill him.”

“I can’t bust into Barry’s home without probable cause -“

JJ stood up. “That’s bullshit! You know -“

“Without probable cause or evidence that proves Barry is holding drugs or being violent, I can’t barge into that home.”

“That’s -“

“Here,” Peterkin writes her number down on a post it note and hands it to JJ. “Without probable cause, I can’t arrest Barry and the men who work or buy from him.” She stared at JJ, hoping the boy will understand her hidden message. She points at the post it in JJ’s hands. “Now. If you need anything from me. Call that number and I will find you.”

JJ looked down at the number and slowly nodded his head, understanding what he would have to do.

“And JJ -“ the blonde turned. “Be aware of where your father is when you call me. I dont want you ending up in the same situation as your friend John B if that’s not where you want to be.”

JJ nodded. “Thank you Sheriff Peterkin.”

Peterkin nodded and walked him out of the station.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ 

Three days later, JJ met his friends at the Wreck for lunch. He slowed his pace when he noticed the seat next to Pope wasn’t occupied and neither was the one next to Kie. 

“Where’s Y/N?” He asked them.

Kie looked at the others with furrowed brows. They all got the same text. The one where Y/N apologetically told them that something came up and wouldn’t be able to hang out today. They thought JJ would have known that. 

“She said she couldn’t make it,” Kie says. “We thought you knew.”

“Did she say why?” 

Pope shrugged. “Just that something came up.”

JJ ripped his phone out of his back pocket and scrolled through his messages with you. You didn’t text him - you didn’t even answer his good morning text. He knew what this meant. You didn’t like to lie, so you’re way of dodging questions you didn’t want to answer honestly is to make sure no one can ask you them. By avoiding them all together. JJ knew that. It made sense to him. 

“JJ, what’s going on?” John B asked his friends, recognizing the look on his best friend’s face. He was furious but also anxious. His leg hasn’t stopped bouncing up and down since he asked where you were. 

JJ clicked on the app that showed your location and saw you were deep into the south side of the Cut. He recognized the area of his father’s drug dealer. 

“We gotta go,” JJ stood up and motioned for his friends to follow. “Now. JB, you bring the Twinkie?”

“Yeah, but...” John B stuttered as he grabbed his stuff off the table. “What’s going on?”

“We're saving my girl from that douche bag she calls a father,” JJ says. “For good.”

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ 

John B pulled the Twinkie to the curb outside of Barry’s house, making sure to use the trees to hide his vehicle. The Pogues immediately recognized your car parked in Barry’s driveway. Confusion bubbled through their heads, but rage ignited in JJ’s.

“Why is she here?” Kie asked. 

JJ didn’t answer. He picked up his phone and clicked on Peterkin’s name. “It’s JJ.” The Pogues paused as they listened to JJ to talk to the Sheriff. “I -” He stopped when the sound of a gun shot being fired silenced all of them into panic. 

“JJ -” Peterkin called for him but JJ didn’t answer. He dropped the phone so fast and sprinted out of the van, towards the house. He didn’t care what kind of danger he was running into. He just knew he had to get you out of it. 

JJ ignored the calls from his best friends behind him as he ripped open the screen door. He stopped, looking left, right, up, down - anywhere for you.

He heard the commotion coming from Barry’s living room along with shouting and glass smashing. The first person he saw was Barry holding a gun up to the ceiling, pointed at the hole he left above him only seconds ago. He was glaring in the direction of you and your father, barely taking notice of the new kid in his home. Luke Maybank was the first to notice his son and narrowed his eyes in his direction. JJ gulped nervously - he didn’t know if it was because he was afraid of the guy with the gun or his dad. But what he feared the most was you not being okay.

Your eyes grew wide with fear when you saw the new face. You looked between JJ and Barry nervously, not knowing how Barry would react to the new member in his house. He was already pissed as it is, threatening to shoot you in front of your dad because neither of you could fork over the money your dad owed Barry. He was getting tired of the same old bullshit, and Rafe didn’t help. He stood silently in the corner with his fingers racked through his hair.

“Who the fuck are you?” Barry pointed the gun at JJ when he finally noticed him. 

“Hey, hey, hey, he’s good!” Luke came closer to Barry and said, “That’s my son.”

“What the fuck is he doing here?” Barry asked him. 

Luke looked past Barry at JJ for an answer he couldn’t give him. JJ glanced from Barry, to his dad, to you and gulped again as he tried to come up with answer. That’s when you understood what was going on. He was following you. 

You didn’t know if you should be mad or not. All you could focus on was the gun in Barry’s hand that’s still pointed in JJ’s direction. 

“Look, kid,” Your dad said to Barry, gaining his attention all over again. “I’ll make it up to you.” He put his hand on your shoulder and shoved you slightly forward. “You want to have her for the night? She’s all yours.”

Your head snapped in your father’s direction with your mouth open agape. Did your dad seriously just try to pimp you out? You felt betrayed, vile, used, and worthless. This isn’t something you do when you love your kid.

JJ seethed and clenched his hands in fists, ready to rock the shit out of your dad. “You son of a bitch -”

Luke, however, caught him in time, holding him by the arm and pulling him away from your dad. JJ tried fighting him off to get to your dad or you - to get you out of this entire home. He saw the scared look on your face and it made him want to set the entire house on fire. He’d do anything to protect you - to keep you safe. And right now, he thought he was failing. 

Then, red and blue lights flashed through the open windows, followed by loud sirens. Barry crossed the room to stand next to you and your father and looked out the window. When he saw the cops, he immediately swiveled around to point his gun at your boyfriend. 

“You called the fucking cops?” Barry sneered. 

“Stop!” You yelled to try and get Barry’s attention and away from JJ. 

You dad tried to use Barry’s distraction to his advantage and snuck up behind him to try and reach for the gun. Barry spun around and tried pulling his wrist away from your dad’s grip. As they fought for the gun and an upper hand, you ran across the room for JJ who immediately wrapped his arms around your waist. He kissed the top of your head and motioned for the front door, mumbling about leaving.

You nodded and grasped his hand in yours. When he turned to lead you out of there, another shot rang out and you flinched closer to JJ as he ducked and pulled your head down with his arms and shields your body with his. 

You heard a thump and the floor vibrated under your feet. 

“Shit -”

“Fuck -”

“What did you do that for -”

“Jerry? Hey! Jerry!”

Everything kind of moved in slow motion after that. You turned around to see what had happened and that’s when you saw your dad laying on the floor with a puddle of blood growing around his body. Your feet moved faster than your brain did to get to your dad. 

JJ tried reaching for you but you swiveled out of his grip and dropped to your knees in front of your dad’s body. His eyes were closed and his mouth open. You placed your hands on top of the wound in his stomach to get it to stop bleeding. You cried. You didn’t know why you were crying but you did. Hard and heavy, barely able to get your own breaths in. You didn’t pay attention to Rafe fleeing from the backyard, or Barry being stopped by the cops who stormed into the house with guns raised. You barely felt JJ place his hands on your shoulders to try and coax you up. All you saw and could feel was your dad’s dead body and his blood on your hands. 

“Honey,” You felt another set of hands touch your back as they knelt down next to you. You didn’t look at her but recognized the familiar voice. “He’s gone. It’s over.”

“No -” You voice was barely above a whisper. 

“I’m sorry. Let’s get you cleaned up. Okay?” 

Sheriff Peterkin nodded at JJ to help you up and lead you out of the house. He was  finally able to pull you up from your knees and placed a comforting hand on your lower back. 

Your friends watched from the barricade the police set up around the house. When they saw you, all of them either started to panic or cry. They thought your were hurt until JJ nodded at them to tell them you were okay. But they could see in your face you were anything but okay.

Another cop lead you to the back of an ambulance. You don’t even look at Luke being handcuffed next to Barry or Rafe disappearing in the trees. All you can think about is your dad. 

The EMT did a quick check up on you after realizing the blood on your hands was in fact not yours. Then they took a quick look at JJ and asked if there was someone they could call for you.

“My mom -” You whispered. 

The EMT nodded. “Do you have a number?”

You told the EMT her number and waited patiently as she walked away to call her. When the two of you were alone, JJ turned to look at you and reached out for your hands and held them in his lap. He rubbed his thumb up and down over the back of your hand and waited for you to say something. He didn’t know if any words could make this right. He didn’t know how to comfort you after you just witnessed your dad died. It didn’t matter if you hated him or not. You literally watched him take his last breath. Your own flesh and blood. That shit’s traumatizing. 

“I’m sorry,” JJ said when he realized you were not going to say anything. “I didn’t mean for any of this to happen. I just - I just wanted to make sure you were okay.”

“This is my fault.”

“No,” JJ shook his head. “No. It’s not your fault. It’s Barry’s. He was the one with the gun -”

“I should’ve walked away. From my dad. From all of this.” A single tear rolled down your cheek. “I enabled him. I allowed it to get this far.”

“You were doing what you thought was best for your dad.”

“I got him killed -”

“He did this to himself, Y/N. You were more than the perfect daughter. You literally couldn't be more perfect if you tried.” JJ wrapped his arm around your shoulder and pulled you closer into his side and kissed the top of your head. “He didn’t deserve you. There’s nothing you could have done to prevent this.”

You cried into his shoulder, letting the sobs wrack through your body and your heart tear into millions of pieces. JJ held you tightly against him and whispered comforting words in your ears. 

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ 

JJ stood by you through your grieving process - through the good and the bad. He’s took your harsh words with a grain a salt when he noticed you were just trying to pick a fight, he held you when you cried into your pillow in the middle of the night, he was by your side for a hand to hold when you told your mother what happened and why you were at Barrys for the millionth time, and he was there to tell you he will always be there for you when you think he’s just going to up and leave like your dad did.

After your dad’s funeral, you stood in front of his tombstone with a solemn expression. Your dad was a piece of shit and didn’t deserve your love, money, and attention. You wished you could go back and time and never give it to him. At least that way you wouldn’t feel all these complicated emotions that made no sense. Love, hate, grief, relief. You didn’t know how to feel. 

Coming up behind you was JJ. He weaved his fingers with yours and kissed your temple. You couldn’t believe there was ever a day where JJ Maybank was your enemy. You didn’t think you’d be able to get through this without him.

“JJ,” You said and looked up at him. “Thank you.”

JJ nodded. “I love you.” He would never admit this, but he was glad you dad was dead. Because now he knew you were safe. 

“I love you more.”

JJ shook his head. “Impossible.”

Tag List: @allycat449-blog​ @zarahsloves​ @redknight9​

[sithsecrets]

five intimate moments | din djarin x reader

A chronicle of five moments that shaped the Mandalorian’s relationship with his one and only crew member.

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3.5 k words

Mentions: illness, hallucinations induced by a high fever, minor injury to the reader character, NO SMUT!

(This is my first attempt at a Mando fic so please have mercy!!!)

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1.

When the Mandalorian says he wants to hire you as his first and only crew member, you’re taken aback to say the least. Your first impulse is to laugh and tell him that his joke is very funny, because what else could an offer like that be from a man like him? He’s entirely self-sufficient from the look of things, and it’s not like he doesn’t have the credits to buy services from others when he needs them. But one long look into the darkness of that visor tells you at once that what Mando’s said is no jest, tells you that he’s serious.

He tells you that he’ll cut you in ten percent if you help him out a little bit. It’s standard stuff, really, just ship repairs, navigation, and taking care of the baby. You’ve learned a lot under Peli over the last several years, you’ve definitely sat in the pilot’s chair a time or two, and you’d be lying if you said you didn’t have a soft spot for Mando’s weird little baby— so why not? Working for him would get you off this planet, and it would be a change of pace for sure.

Doubt sets in the night before you’re set to go off with the Mandalorian, though Peli waves your feelings off pretty readily.

“You’re being stupid,” she tells you bluntly. “He’s a Mandalorian. Just do as you’re told, help him with the kid, and let him keep to himself if he wants to. Everything’ll be fine.”

Peli’s words are of some comfort, though anxiety is still fluttering in your gut the next morning. You say your goodbyes to your mentor and the droids, and then you’re flying off in the Razor Crest on the way to somewhere.

The first day is strange as you try to pick your way around your new home, and you spend much of your time feeling as though you’re snooping around in someone else’s space. The Mandalorian is just as quiet as you thought he’d be, clanging around in his armor doing this and that while you try to make yourself busy. You run out of tasks quickly, however, and it makes you skin itch to sit idle like this.

You watch for nearly an hour as Mando fiddles with the mechanics in one of his arm guards, cursing under his breath through the modulator as he picks at this and that. You think you know what the problem is, but you’re not sure you’re brave enough to tell him that. Finally, though, you can’t let him struggle anymore.

“Let me see,” you declare, cringing as you realize your tone was more commanding than you’d meant for it to be. But Mando says nothing to this, letting you take hold of his arm without uttering so much as a sound. Just as you thought, there’s an issue farther up the guard, one he’d overlooked. A little soldering here, a change of wires there, and then the thing’s good as new again.

“Thank you,” the Mandalorian says, and you can feel his eyes on you through the visor.

“It’s what you hired me for.” You laugh nervously then, suddenly shy under the attention. “Gotta show you I’m not completely useless somehow, right?”

The Mandalorian stands, headed for the ladder on the other side of the room.

“Don’t call yourself useless.”

This is said without so much as a glance over his shoulder, and you find yourself rushing to explain for no apparent reason.

“I didn’t—”

“Yes, you did.” The Mandalorian pauses with one foot on the first rung, finally turning to look at you now. “You’re not useless.”

 2.

The Razor Crest’s interior, in the grand tradition of spaces owned and maintained by single men, is in desperate need of a tune-up. There’s a bit of clutter here and there, and the walls and surfaces and well, everything else could do with a good scrubbing. It’s a big project to say the least, but you think you can tackle it given enough time and supplies.

The perfect window for such an undertaking opens up just a few days after the idea strikes you. Mando’s got another assignment, and it’s brought you to a relatively safe planet nearer to the Outer Core. He’ll be gone a few days, or so he says, and you know already that the market in town will be the perfect place to get what you need.

You set about your task the same day the Mandalorian leaves to set about his, the baby secured to your chest in a makeshift sling. It’s a good thing you brought him, too, because his charm helps you score several bargains along the way.

Organizing everything takes almost a whole day by itself, but after that, the cleaning is easy. You scrub and dust and mop until everything sparkles, and then it’s time to do laundry and see if you can make some functioning garments out of the scraps you find in Mando’s small closet. The clothes he wears aren’t rags by any means, but a little patching here and mending there gives him two more shirts and another pair of pants to work with.

It takes two more days for Mando to come home after you’re done, and he notes the changes immediately. He stops dead in the little hall between the main hull and the place where he keeps his carbonite-contained quarries, looking to the left and then to the right very slowly. You can’t tell if he likes what you’ve done at first, his expression obscured by that damn helmet like it always is.

“I didn’t touch your weapons,” you declare, holding up your hands as if to ward off whatever anger Mando’s about to level at you. But he doesn’t get upset, doesn’t cuss or ask you what the hell your were thinking, so you think it’s safe to go on.

“I scrubbed the whole interior, organized some of the stuff you had laying around, and made myself a better place to sleep.”

You gesture to the pallet you’ve made for yourself on the floor, proud of how you’ve managed to tuck it out of the way. That was the problem with your old spot— Mando had to step around you a lot, and it was becoming impractical. This new space comfortable, too, plush thanks to some cushions and blankets you managed to score in the market. You even have pillows now, but this is something you delight in privately.

The Mandalorian stands silently before you, and you prattle on, showing him this and that.

“I got the baby a couple of outfits to wear, one for colder weather and one for warmer weather. I mended some of your old clothes and washed everything that was here, so that’s done.” You shut the door to the little wardrobe and go to Mando’s bunk, pushing the button so he can see inside. “The woman that sells upholstered goods in the market really liked the Child, so she gave me a great deal. I managed to get you a decent mattress, or something close to it, and a couple of new pillows. She fixed up your old quilt for me too, so I hope it’s warmer now…”

You trail off, words escaping you under the intensity of Mando’s gaze. He’s staring you down properly now, the visor trained right on your face.

“Why did you do all of this?” he asks, gesturing to his bunk, the wardrobe. The thought crosses your mind that perhaps you should have asked before you messed with his things, his sleeping space, and a wave of something not unlike embarrassment sweeps over you.

“I— Mando, I’m sorry, I should have—”

But the Mandalorian still isn’t cross, cutting you off before you can finish apologizing. “Don’t apologize for anything. This is… This is…” He stares at his bed for a long moment, searching for his words. “Thank you.”

Something about the way he says it makes your stomach flutter, though you can’t decide if that’s good or bad.

 3.

The cough is innocuous enough when it starts, just a tickle in the back of your throat that comes on one afternoon. You brush it off as allergies, even telling Mando you’re fine when he asks about it that night.

Two days later, you’re bedridden.

Mando insists you’re absolutely burning up even as you shiver and shake beneath a virtual mountain of blankets, so cold that you think you’ll never be warm again. He forces you to sip on broth and water, though it all settles like sludge in your stomach. It must be bad, whatever you have— you must look bad— because the Mandalorian’s façade is slipping. He’s having full-blown conversations with the baby now, asking the little green infant if he thinks it’s a good idea to cut this hunt short, if he thinks you can be left alone for even just a few hours while he collects the last quarry. And though your body is aching, though you can practically feel the fever cooking your brain at this point, you tell him to finish the job. He made an agreement, and you know it’ll kill Mando not to honor it— you’ll be fine by yourself.

The two of you touch down on some planet in the Outer Rim, and then Mando’s practically running out of the ship. He promises to be back within the day, the sincerity in his voice managing to pierce the haze clouding your mind, and the ache in your bones makes you hope he means it.

Sometime later, you begin to hear a voice coming from the ‘fresher, one that taunts and teases you. It speaks nonsense on and off, but the clearer messages are frightening nonetheless. The voice says that Mando’s not coming back, that he’s left you here forever. Why else would he have taken the baby, hm? He doesn’t care for you, he’s not going to help you.

“Yes, he is,” you retort weakly, becoming more and more upset with each passing hour as this faceless thing continues to fill your head with words and threats. Somewhere in the very back of your fever-addled brain, you know that none of this is real, that all of this is a fever dream. But still, you weep and twist in your bed, scared that the Mandalorian really has abandoned you.

True to his word, though, Mando’s back in record time. You cry out for him the minute you hear footsteps inside the ship, and even the quarry grows quiet at the sound of your voice. Things are hazy after that, but you know that Mando comes to you after just a few minutes, promising over and over again that you’ll be better soon.

You and the Mandalorian and the baby fly somewhere together, this much you know, and Mando comes to sit on the floor with you once the Crest is in hyperspace.

“We’ll be there soon,” he tells you, voice tense and nervous through the modulator. He shushes you when you become upset all over again, emotions stirred by more taunting from the voice in the ‘fresher.

“Make it stop,” you cry, so very weak, “please make it stop. It’s so mean, Mando.”

“Hey, hey,” the Mandalorian cuts, pressing a gloved hand to your forehead. “Nothing can hurt you while I’m here, I won’t let it. I’ll stay right here until we get you to a doctor, I promise.”

And that’s enough to calm you for a few hours, it’s enough to help you fall asleep. You only wake again when you feel arms around your body, when the plushness of your mattress is no longer underneath you.

“Come on,” Mando says, talking to himself as much as he’s talking to you. “The medic will fix this. He’ll fix this, and everything will be fine.”

The medic the Mandalorian takes you to does fix this, but things are touch and go for a few hours there. Your fever breaks in just a couple of hours, thank the Maker, but you’re still very weak from being so sick for so long. You spend two days confined to a medbay bed before you’re deemed well enough to be discharged, and even then, it takes about a week before you’re truly feeling like yourself again.

It’s not until much later that you realize Mando never left your bedside once, and not for the first time do you find yourself wondering what something like that means coming from a man like him.

4.

Mando’s been gone nearly two weeks, and the baby’s beginning to lose it just the slightest bit. He doesn’t talk, of course, not in a way you can understand, but you know he misses his father. If the Child isn’t in a sour mood, he cries, and you’ve caught him playing in Mando’s clothes more than once. It’s stressful, taking care of the baby when he’s like this, but you understand how he feels. You feel strange and almost embarrassed to admit it, but you miss the Mandalorian too. The rational part of you knows it would be best to chalk it up to proximity, but you know in your heart that it’s a little more than that. But just because you know this doesn’t mean you accept it, and you tamp down the feeling at every turn, focusing instead on getting the Child through this rough period.

At the sixteen-day mark, the baby refuses to sleep in his pram entirely, insisting instead that Mando’s bunk will do much better. And you would be fine with that, all things considered, if he wasn’t insistent that you climb in there with him as well.

“Bug, I know you want Mando to come home, and I know you like sleeping with me when he’s not here, but I’m not getting in there with you.”

The baby makes a most discontent noise, pulling on your fingers so hard that he tumbles back onto Mando’s mattress when he lets go. You tell him once again that you won’t be invading his father’s space like that, and then the Child is crying, sobbing so hard his little shoulders shake beneath his baggy outfit. I’m too tired for this, you think to yourself, and you finally give the baby what he wants.

“Alright, alright,” you acquiesce, climbing up into the bunk with a sigh. “But we’re not telling him about this.”

The Child is soothed at once, snuggling down beside you in Mando’s blankets as if he was never upset in the first place. You lie beside him in the dark, eyes already growing heavy as you breathe in the scent of the covers around you, the scent of the pillow beneath your head. All at once, you realize that this is what Mando probably smells like under all the armor and the weapons. Something about that only serves to make this whole thing feel even more like a violation, but you force that thought out of your mind.

At some point, you do drift off, only the be woken hours later by the feeling of a hand on your ankle. And there the Mandalorian is, standing before you in the flesh (and beskar) after all those days away.

“You’re in my bed,” he says to you, though there’s no edge to the words. It’s a simple statement of fact, a plain observation.

“We missed you,” is all you have to say in explanation, though it takes you about three seconds too long to realize which pronoun you chose to throw out in the front there. Now properly awake, you go to cover the mistake, but Mando cuts you off as he is so wont to do.

“I missed you too,” he says slowly, voice dropping almost to a whisper. “Both of you.”

5.

You realize that Nevarro may not be as safe as you thought about three seconds after a man with a vibroblade demands you hand over all the credits you have. You try to flee on impulse, your mind focused on protecting the baby—

Right up until the man catches your shirt, using the natural momentum of the action to propel you right into his clenched fist. Searing hot pain blooms behind your eye, spreading across the entire side of your face and into your nose. You’re completely stunned, unable to so much as form a coherent thought as your attacker moves to hit you again.

It’s like everything happens in slow-motion after that. One minute, your assailant is bearing down on you with murder in his eyes— the next, he’s grimacing, falling to the ground with thud. Two voices urge you to follow them now, and there are hands on your shoulders, your back. You’re so disoriented that it takes you a moment to realize that there are two fucking Mandalorians in your face, but when you do, the urge to fight back leaves you immediately.

Neither Mando is your Mandalorian, but you follow them anyway. They usher you into a tunnel system beneath the city, telling you to turn this way and that, and you do as they say without question. For some reason, they know you— they know your name, and they certainly know the baby because they ask about him the moment the lot of you are concealed. About a thousand questions swim around in your mind as you follow the Mandalorians deeper and deeper into the tunnels, but you aren’t given a chance to ask a single one.

Finally, you’re allowed to stop in a smith of some sort, coming to stand before a Mandalorian woman sheathed in maroon and gold. She regards you for a long moment, pausing over her work to take in the sight of your face, the way you clutch the baby protectively against your chest.

“Fetch him,” is all that she says, speaking to one of your saviors, and they turn and leave without a word.

A period of time elapses before you hear movement in the hall, though you can’t be sure how long. What you are sure of, though, is that you hear Mando’s voice drawing near, and the wave of relief that washes over you is almost overwhelming. You’re safe here, of course— anyone would be, surrounded by this many Mandalorians— but… but they’re not him.

“What happened?”

It’s the first thing Mando says to you, picking up the pace once he lays eyes on your injuries. You’re taken aback by how he crowds you, how he lets his gloved hands linger on your cheek.

“She was attacked by a chakaar,” says the Armorer, speaking from workspace. “He will not be bothering anyone again, though.”

Mando is satisfied by this, thanking his brothers and sisters for protecting you and his child. You thank them as well, though it’s hard to tell if the sentiment lands with the Mandalorians. The Armorer is the only one who responds at all, saying, “You are our brother’s cyar’ika,” she explains, confusing you with a word you don’t recognize, “we as his brothers and sisters must protect you. This is the Way.”

“The is the Way,” intones the group, and then you’re being ushered from the room, tucked under Mando— your Mando’s— arm.

The walk back to the ship is a quiet one, though the Child coos happily. He seems largely unaffected by all of this, even dozing off in his pram as though he’s had an uneventful afternoon. You’re glad he’s asleep, knowing it’ll give you and Mando some time to talk. You want to ask him about what the Armorer said, what that word meant. Mando’s cyar… cyar’ika? Is that what she’d called you?

But you don’t get the chance to speak a word, because Mando crushes you against him the moment you get the baby settled. His arms are strong around your back, the sensation of being held by him effectively knocking the air from your lungs. When he finally lets you go, every question you had stuffed in your mind is gone.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t there,” the Mandalorian says to you, sounding more distraught than you ever thought possible. You shake your head at that— how could he possibly have known?

“I’m fine, Mando,” you press. “Don’t worry about my face, it’s—”

“I should have been there.”

The both of you just look at one another after that, and the Mandalorian doesn’t flinch away when you lay your hand on the side of his helmet. You know at once that everything is different now, but you need to hear it just to be sure.

“That woman—”

“The Armorer,” Mando corrects.

“The Armorer,” you begin again, speaking slowly and deliberately. “What did she mean when she said what she said about me? What is a cyar… cyar’ika?”

Mando’s hand comes up, and his glove is cool on your uninjured cheek.

“’Beloved,’” he says softly, “’cyar’ika’ means ‘beloved.’”

You think your heart’s going to beat right out of your chest, but you force yourself not to be calm.

“If you’re going to call me your cyar’ika,” you whisper, afraid you’ll shout if you don’t, “then what should I call you?”

“Din. You can call me Din.”

[extremelyblackandwhite]

invisible string

pairing: mob!bucky barnes x reader

warnings: violence, harassing

a/n: sequel to willow. wanda is a tarot reader and you cannot tell me otherwise. it is canon. 

WILLOW - TOLERATE IT

Time, curious time gave me no compasses, gave me no signs. Were there clues I didn't see? And isn't it just so pretty to think all along there was some invisible string tying you to me?

James was taken aback by her move, watching his black king cornered by both her white queen and king. How had he not seen it? It was right there ever since she moved her queen to lay in F7 right at the beginning of the game. How? It didn’t matter but her naughty smile, pushing at the corner of her chapstick painted lips left no doubt to who had won this game. He bit his lip leaning against the couch, full view of the glass chess board. She had less pieces left than him but she had still managed to won and as such he extended his hand towards her. She looked at his hand hesitantly, her winning grin fading and her usual insecurity returned as a shake hand came to shake his. 

     - No one has won a game against me in years. - he grabbed the glass black king from the board, handing it to her. - How’d you do it?

     - You wanted my king. You wanted it so badly you forgot about your own, so I distracted you with minor pieces. Gave you the false sense of security you had it and then struck down.

   - That’s such a dirty trick, petal. - he leaned against the velvet fabric of the armchair, eyeing her up and down. She felt naked under his gaze, almost as if he could see through her walls and clothing. She guessed a man like him needed to have such a sharp eye but it wasn’t any less intimidating, even if she had just won a chess match against him.

He rose slowly from the armchair, his feet moving slowly towards a silver cart leaning against a wall, just under an abstract painting with several glass bottles of several coloured liquids. He took the glass stone from one of them, pouring some of the dark amber liquid onto two glasses before offering one to Y/N.

  - Glenlivet. - he spoke out, noticing the confusion on her face. - You’re old enough to drink, aren’t you?

  - How old do you think I am Mr. Barnes? I thought you knew everything about your employees.

  - And I do, petal. I know where you went to school, kindergarten even, know the name of your friends and that’s all from one of my men following you for a day. - Bucky rose his glass in a small toast before starting to drink. Y/N’s colour drained from her face as she started to wonder if she’d gone to see his father in the precinct. She hadn’t. At least she thought yet her body started shaking and it became harder to breathe. - Y/N? Hey, are you okay?

  - Yeah ... I just need some fresh air. - she tried to get up from the couch but she couldn’t, her nerves getting over her. What if he’d heard her speak about the undercover job, she was dead, she was definitely flirting with death the moment she stepped into his home. 

   - Someone was following you from the bar, petal. I’m not going to kill you, if I were to kill you it wouldn’t be in the comfort of my own home. Blood is a bitch to take out of white carpets. - Bucky once again seemed to read through her. He once again got up from his couch, placing his gun on the marbled island of his kitchen before returning to her. - You’re paranoid, petal.

   - It’s not ... I don’t really like being followed. Why were you following me? 

   - That guy from the bar followed you home and since he got his head smashed against the counter and a drink thrown in his face, I thought better to send Steve after you for that night. You are awfully clumsy and if you had any real enemies, you’d be dead by now. You leave your key under the entry matt and so does your housemate and her lousy brother too. Twins?

   - Yes.

   - You’re so afraid of me but in all honesty petal, you’re the biggest danger to yourself. 

   - Has Steve followed me recently?

   - No. I’ve been driving you home ever since, park a bit outside campus to ensure you get in. It’s an ugly world out there, petal.

   - I know. Trust me, I do ...

After her mother died, the home she had once learned to love lost its homey feeling. Suddenly, the home that always smelled like fresh lemon tarts and gardenias was now dark. His father left his case files all over the kitchen and would sit at the table smoking his cigars with a glass of port as he read through the cases. Her father loved her, he did, just in his own way. 

She still remembered peaking by the door, holding onto a blanket her mother had quilted for her with her name embroidered in aqua blue, and seeing the photos scattered around the table of murders, abusers, robberies. She knew there was darkness, she just preferred to ignore it.

   - You live inside your head very often don’t you? - he eyed her as she took a sip of the drink he had offered her. Scotch was never her drink of choice, she preferred not to drink at all seeing how it had soured her father. Yet, she guessed a centenary drink was no joke.

   - That’s called being an only child, Mr. Barnes. Besides, my ideas are rarely worth listening.

   - Hm, I see ... Perhaps you’d like to see your room? - he changed the conversation, offering a hand to her so she could get up. 

Her soft fingers wrapped around his cold hand, a stark contrast to her warm hand. Bucky finger lingered over the top of her palm, feeling the softness and plumpness of her skin compared to his scarred, rough one. She didn’t mind, she followed him happily through the halls of his way too big house. 

Steve had told him when he bought it that it was too big for himself alone but for Bucky buying a big flat meant he made it, he could now tell everyone else who doubted him to fuck off yet it was hard to come back to it at the end of the day. Always clean and always empty. The staff didn’t stay behind for much longer, having heard all sorts of rumours and he believed if Y/N wasn’t so afraid of him, she would’ve probably left. Yet, he couldn’t find himself to sell the flat so he just slept in hotel rooms. Smaller roomers where it didn’t feel like the emptiness surrounded him constantly. 

He led her to one of the guest rooms he had decorated in soft pinks, whites and greys. Bucky guessed it’d make her comfortable, it matched her cardigans and little embroidered dresses she would bring around to the bar despite most of his waitresses constantly berating her on it, saying it would get her no tips. 

Y/N peaked through the door crack as he opened it. The room was rather soft with a large king sized bed with white and blush pink bedding along with a grey rug nearby. With so many bedrooms, he probably had enough time to decorate each one with a different colour palette. 

    - There should be some pyjamas in the wardrobe. Might be a bit big but it’s better than sleeping with your clothes on. 

   - You seem prepared. Is this where you bring your mistresses?

   - My mistresses don’t sleep in my house. - why would you say that, Y/N? Are you trying to get yourself killed? - I’ll drive you home tomorrow at 8AM so you should go to sleep. Goodnight, petal.

  - Thank you. Goodnight, Mr. Barnes. - he closed the door behind her and she was left with herself in the bedroom.

She padded around the linoleum floors, phone in hand as she photographed the horizon so maybe her father could locate the house and search for evidence. Y/N couldn’t. She couldn’t find herself to go investigating his house as he was kind enough to offer her a place to stay. Instead she just investigated the room which was so much better. It was a suite with its own bathroom decorated with monogramed fluffy white towels and white marbled surfaces. She wondered why he wouldn’t bring someone here, it was clearly a work of architectural art but yet again, maybe don’t show strangers where you sleep. Maybe he shouldn’t have shown it to her. 

At least she was doing something right. At least he didn’t hate her enough not to allow her to listen to his conversations, to the talks of deals that would surely provide her father’s precinct with the clues that they were not insane to think that there were tradings happening under their noses. She was doing good but she felt dirty nonetheless. She didn’t like lying but she also wanted to graduate, to be something other than the Capitan’s daughter.

She ignored her mind and got dressed in the steamed and washed pyjamas that were hanging on the silk hanger of the closet and got inside the bed. She was okay, she was going to be okay. 

The daylight ruptured through the night and she was the first one up to get dressed and make the bed as well as put the pyjamas back on their place. Bucky didn’t take long to knock on her door and as she opened it there he was again, polished suit and hair as if looking casual destroyed the whole appearance. It didn’t, he was a handsome man and she was absolutely certain he would look handsome in anything. 

    - Did you sleep well? - he questioned as she stepped out the room, holding onto her worn out faux leather brown satchel. 

   - Yes, it’s a very comfortable bed. What about you? 

   - I don’t have time to sleep, petal. I was thinking about having some breakfast before I dropped you off, if that’s okay with you.

   - I just want to get back home. My flatmate might worry. 

Bucky didn’t force her. She was like any other staff and he guessed having breakfast with the mob boss wasn’t her idea of a good spent morning, besides, she probably still needed to go to class. He drove her back to her small, unsafe which she saw as safe flat, keeping an eye on her every once in a while. Her posture was rigid or even one that a manner teacher wouldn’t correct, it was slouched over his window, hand under her chin as she observed the early morning light illuminate the city. 

Getting to campus during early mornings were always funny to her as she never knew what she would find; some students would be still returning from nights out while some would exit the library with piles and piles of books and notes. Either way, it was always a fun game. He stopped in front of her flat, putting the car on stop, engine slowly lowering its sounds. 

   - Thank you for bringing me, Mr. Barnes. - she held her satchel against her chest. 

   - You got an evening dress? Cocktail party maybe? 

   - So not a black dress? - she teased, biting the skin of inner lip. 

   - Definitely not. 

   - I think I might have something.

   - You’re not working tonight, you’re coming with me to an auction. I’ll pay you double the salary of a nightshift if you say yes.

   - Plus night wages?

   - Everything you’d get paid a night, I’ll double it. 

   - I’ll get to work finding that dress then. - she opened the door of his car, exiting before waving him goodbye.

Getting inside her flat, she could definitely sense the difference between worlds she was living in. Spend time with James Barnes, her father told her. Besides, how bad could an action be? There were several people there and if she knew what he was buying maybe it would prove useful in the future.

She climbed the stairs up to her door which was slightly open. She would’ve questioned why had it not been for Pietro’s voice echoing through the whole hall. Of course. None of them really close the door whenever the other one is around. 

    - Wanda, I’m telling you, that’s bullshit. - he told his sister who merely rolled her eyes at him. - Shuffle it again.

    - It says you’re a fuckboy deal with it. - she crossed her arms, before noticing Y/N had come in. - Hey you, you’re here early. I thought you were gonna appreciate your motel stay for a little while. 

   - Well, I ... I was just homesick. - she lied. Wanda clearly wouldn’t like to know where she had spent the night. - What are you guys doing?

   - Pietro asked me to do a reading on him and he’s upset at the result. As per usual.

   - I’m telling you the deck is broken. Do Y/N. - he pointed at the captain’s daughter who sat down by the coffee table where the two were. Wanda shrugged and asked Y/N to touch the deck before she started to shuffle it, three cards falling onto the table as soon as she did.

The Lovers, the Devil and Death. Y/N knew those cards all too well, she loved roaming through Wanda’s deck and marvel at the beautiful pictures and Wanda normally told her that the Death card was not as bad as everyone made it look like as well as the Devil. However, this time, all the colour drained from the brunette’s face as the stared at the cards fallen on the table. She shuffled the deck again, hoping for more cards, this time getting the Six and Nine of Swords. 

   - Everything okay, Wan? - she asked her friend who was intensely staring at the cards in front of her. 

   - Yeah ... I guess Pietro is right, the deck is broken.

   - See? I told you so. You never listen to me. 

   - I think I should be getting to class now. - she interrupted the two sibling’s bickering. - I’ll see you later. 

She spent most of her classes thinking about the auction. It was harmless enough and her father was over the moon, telling her she should be proud that she was now part of the “inner circle”, whatever that meant. Nevertheless, she was getting paid double which would always help with rent and utilities. The last module took hours of a lecturer going through yet another generic powerpoint followed by a class of over a hundred students rushing out the door the moment it was over. 

She took to her bedroom before Wanda arrived to search for the only evening dress she had which barely saw the light of day, mostly living inside the black box over her wardrobe. It was her mother’s, something she had left behind that Y/N had taken a particular liking to once she grew up. It was a baby pink slip dress with the hem in matching lace and she guessed it would be appropriate for an auction. 

   - Where are you going? - Wanda asked as Y/N stepped out of the room. Shit. Of all the days for her to be home early, it just had to be today. - What are you doing wearing your mum’s dress?

   - It’s fancy dress day at the bar. 

   - Fancy dress day at a mob bar?

   - Clearly. 

   - What are you hid ... - Wanda was interrupted by Y/N’s phone. Mr. Barnes had texted her he was outside just at the right time. 

   - I’ll see you later, Wan. Have fun but not too much fun.

Before the brunette could question her, Y/N was already out the door, bag in hand. She went down the stairs and outside where Mr. Barnes was leaning against his car, dressed in a navy blue suit which made him look like a model gracing the cover’s of fashion magazines. 

    - You’re supposed to make me wait, petal. 

    - I like being on time. - she walked up to him, standing less than an arm’s distance from the posh dressed mob boss. 

    - I should start by warning you not to go by your real name today. Safety purposes. 

   - What should I call myself then? Your date? - she asked as he helped her inside the car. 

   - You can call yourself whatever you’d like, petal. As long as it’s not your real name and I know what name you’re going by. 

   - Uhm ... I wanna go by Betty. 

   - Betty?

   - Like Betty Draper from Mad Men. She sounds like the type of woman who would go to an auction.

  - So you wanna be Betty Drapper? - Bucky hide a small smile as he drove through the dark night. 

  - No, I wanna be called Betty for tonight. - she leaned against the comfortable seatings of his car. 

“You’re part of the inner circle now, darling. Do something about it”, her father’s words echoed in her mind through the faint sound of the radio playing Doris Day. Yet again she had no idea how going to an auction would be a break in the case unless Mr. Barnes was buying weapons or drugs. The fact she was going by a different name didn’t calm her nerves but he wouldn’t kill her in a public setting. She watched the trees pass by from the window of his car  until they reached a big white house which could be certainly considered a mansion.

Mr. Barnes got off his car while the engine was still roaring, handing the key to the valet before opening her door. She looked up at him, blinded by the fairy lights all around the mansion and suddenly she got nervous, very nervous. Nevertheless, she took his help in getting off the car, walking to his left as the valet drove away with his car. 

    - We’re sticking with Betty? - he asked as they climbed up the stairs to the entry of the mansion. 

    - We are. - she nodded as he knocked on the door. A poshly dressed man opened the door allowing for her to peak inside. The room was full of people chatting to each other, champagne flutes in hand of roaring laughter. This was definitely different from the environment she was used to back at the club. 

Without noticing, she clung to his side as he moved through the seas of people drinking and admiring art work which she guessed was what was being auctioned until they got stopped by a slightly shorter than him man dressed in a black tuxedo. 

    - Barnes, you made it. I saved some of your favourite pieces for you. - he was happily talking until he noticed Y/N by the mob boss’ side. - Who is this lovely lady?

    - This is Betty. - he was an excellent liar, even she would’ve believed her name was Betty.

    - Pleasure to meet you, miss. - he curtsied which greatly confused her. - Do you want to come see them? I told my Miriam that the Proserpina paintings would be for Mr. Barnes when we started picking pieces. 

The mob boss was sweet on art? She curiously followed them into a badly light room in shades of burgundy and dark browns where several paintings. She observed them with an innocent look as Bucky heard about the prices and its overall worth. Of course they were not going into auction, they had been saved for him and him alone. He was important, stupidly important when compared to these other people. She could hear whispering from other people as he passed by, away from the room through other people.

The man, whose name Y/N still hadn’t really heard, left them in the entrance with everyone else, two champagne flutes immediately making their way to them. Yet, she still didn’t know exactly what to do. What would this be of use to her father? Someone liking art was common, something very common. Once again useless. 

   - Why did you bring me here if you don’t even need to attend the auction?

   - It’s a bad look to appear unaccompanied. Besides, I’d like to see the auction tonight.

   - I didn’t know you liked art. 

   - You thought I’d only like to see people dying, petal? - he spoke in a soft, calm manner but she could see his smirk through his strong facade. 

   - Look who it is. - Bucky’s face switched into an heavy expression, something Y/N barely saw and didn’t like to see. His arm pulled her behind him as someone dressed in what looked like a taffeta black suit walked up to him accompanied by a black haired woman in a skin tight burgundy dress much more sensual than Y/N’s blush pink flared dress. - James Buchanan Barnes, I thought you didn’t visit this part of town.

   - Rumlow, I visit whatever part I want. 

   - You remember my wife Rachel. - he pointed at the woman nearby him. - I don’t think I remember your friend. Care to introduce us?

   - This is Betty. She’s Sharon’s niece. 

   - Pleasure. There sure are lovely jewellery pieces tonight at auction, aren’t there?

   - And I believe I should care about those since I’m a woman. - Y/N gave him a forced smile, earning a scoff from Bucky who was trying not to laugh at her quick wit. 

    - I’m here to bid on the Elizabeth earrings. They’re a brilliant piece, don’t you think?

    - Yes, well ... we should be getting to our seats. - Bucky ignored the request for continuing the conversation, instead holding Y/N’s hand and leading her towards the auction room.

That was an odd conversation, one with underlying feelings of animosity. Maybe coming here was worth it, maybe that name “Rumlow” would be of use to her father. However, it didn’t matter as she was rather exciting to be in her very first auction. Sitting down in gold painted chairs she could see the paddles with several numbers and even the odd gentleman with a monocle. 

Bucky looked at her with a faint smile, observing how his world seemed to still entice her as for him it had long its spark a long, long time ago. People kept sitting down and soon enough the auctioneer was on the stage presenting pieces and shouting values of high amounts of money. High enough to pay for the rest of her degree, a masters and a few PhDs but she guessed this was how high society lived.

    - Finally, one of tonight’s most special pieces. - the man pointed at a pair of earrings on a glass box. - The Elizabeth earrings are made of white gold with two diamonds taken from The Cullinan diamond, one of the most precious in the world whose siblings belong to Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth. Let’s start at 5 thousand.

Brock raised his paddle.

   - 5 thousand, does anyone says 6 thousand?

James rose his own paddle, surprising Y/N. She thought he was only here for the painting. 

   - 6 thousand, 7 thousand? - Brock once again rose his paddle. - 7 thousand, 8 thousand? 

Bucky once again rose his paddle, smirk on his face. He always enjoyed the chase and an auction chase was no exception. Besides, he would love to win those earrings just to piss off Brock Rumlow. 

   - 8 thousand, 9 thousand? - Brock rose his paddle again. - 9 thousand, 10 thousand?

   - 5 hundred thousand. - Bucky spoke out loud and clear for everyone to hear.

   - 5 hundred thousand, any higher? - Y/N’s gaze moved over to Brock who kept his paddle neatly in the middle of his lap, an upset expression gracing his face. His face moved to look at Barnes but he didn’t care, holding a winning smile on his lips. - Going once, going twice, going thrice ... Sold to Mr. Barnes. Congratulations.

Bucky didn’t low himself down to look at Rumlow instead getting up once the auction was over. Y/N followed him, curiosity once again getting hold of her and every fibre of hers. She had never seen diamonds in person, much less as precious as these ones were so once she went into the back and saw the woman place them into a red velvet box, she was done for. They placed the box on a nice black matte bag and handed it over to Mr. Barnes along with the certification of authenticity. 

The auction after party become boring afterwards, with Rumlow giving Barnes a look no one would like to receive and him having little to no care about it. At around 11PM, the time she would end her shift today, he started to walk away, tipping the valet some money to fetch his car while both of them waited outside. It was a cold night, the wind moaning in slow blows and suddenly she regretted not bringing a jacket. 

   - You should’ve brought a jacket. - before she could roll her eyes at this comment, she felt something fall onto her shoulders. Looking to the right shoulder, she recognised the navy blue fabric of his suit’s jacket. - Did you enjoy being someone else for the evening?

   - I didn’t envision my alter ego being Steve’s girlfriend’s family but I’ll accept it. It was nice, thank you for bringing me. 

   - My pleasure, Betty. - he joked. - I do prefer your name over Betty.

The valet brought back his beloved car and handed back the keys. It had been a rather fun night, one that surely went above and beyond her expectations. At least she had a name to give to her father, one of a contact that would be willing to speak about Barnes. Nevertheless, she couldn’t help but feel absolutely dirty about it. He hadn’t done anything bad to her, anything that would consider her betrayal. He’d hurt people, or at least that’s what her father said. He’d hurt people, but she’d only seen him doing it to those who actually deserved it. It was wrong, it was wrong but she had too. 

These thoughts kept her quiet, with eyes on the road. This was bad, this was bad, how was she going to betray him but that was the job. Feel nothing, her father had told her before, feel nothing and don’t get hurt. She didn’t want him to get locked up yet again maybe she was too innocent to see what was really happening. 

    - We’re here, Y/N. - he killed the engine, stopping in front of the building. - You don’t look alright. Do you want me to drive you to the hospital?

   - Oh, no, no. I’m just tired. - she lied. Once again lying. 

   - I’m sorry for keeping you up this late. I’ll double your night pay too.

   - It’s not necessary, Mr. Barnes.

   - Bucky.

   - Pardon?

   - Call me Bucky. - he corrected her. - From now on, you can call me Bucky.

   - Bucky. - she repeated, a silly smile forming on her face. - Well, goodnight Bucky.

   - Goodnight, petal. Don’t forget your bag. - he handed her bag to the young girl before waving his last goodbye.

She stood in the sidewalk, watching his car leave with a silly smile on her face. Why was she even smiling? She should be feeling guilty, not smiley. Yet she was stuck in the middle of those two emotions. She needed to go back to bed, that’s what she needed. She needed to go back to her bed and sleep it through so like every single night, she climbed the stairs up to her flat. Once in front of her old student flat door, she opened her wallet to search for her keys.

Damned keys, always seemed to disappear in the darkness of her bag and as she rummaged through the contents she had been throwing inside her bag over the years. As she kept searching for her keys, something fell from her bag onto the bag. 

   - Shit. - she mumbled to herself, squatting down to grab what had fallen. Her mouth opened agape as she saw the same velvet blue box from the auction. Looking around and seeing no one around, she opened the box and there they were, the same earrings she had seen on the auction glass along with a note. Maybe Betty will like them. JBB. - I can’t believe it.

Once again, smiling like a fool. She couldn’t believe it, it couldn’t be, it had to be some sort of mistake. These were 5 hundred thousand dollar pair of earrings for a woman who was wearing a hand me down dress from her mother. Before someone else could see them she shoved them back inside her purse, opening the door to her flat.

   - We need to talk. 

taglist: @lookiamtrying @mariamermaid @sebastianstansqueen @unmagically @buckybarnes1982 @mela-noche @lowercasegenius @randomweirdooo @projectcampbell @sebbystanlover-vk @jevans2 @hollarious @itsallyscorner​ 

[joheun-saram]

Christmas Under Wraps (ksj)

Summary- You always wanted to work in a small town, and when you finally got matched to a small hospital in Alaska for your one year sabbatical you never would’ve thought you’d be in a place where everyone believed Santa was real. Mass hysteria or magic? Only time will tell.

word count- 12k

pairing- nurse!Seokjin x doctor!Reader

rating- R

genre- fluff, smut

warnings- very bad puns, me having no knowledge of Alaska, cheating, shitty parents, mentions of the horrendous Mario movie, softdom!Jin, whiny!Jin, explicit sex, oral sex (f and m receiving), edging (kinda), multiple orgasms, too many references to Santa

a.n- Part of @suhdays​ Hallmark Holiday Collab! Please check other beautiful holiday pieces written by some amazing writers. Full disclosure, this fic took me more than a month to write, mostly because I have only seen like three Christmas movies, and one of them was Die Hard and the other was Nightmare before Christmas, so please let me know what you think! Was this Christmasy enough for you? 

s/o to the amazing @namyoongles​ for the banner! ily! 💕

As always feedback appreciated. Send me an ask! 💌

-

“Mr Henderson, I really need you to watch your carbohydrate intake. Your blood sugar indicates pre-diabetes and with your history of angina, it really is important that you keep this in check. I’m going to need you to do a monthly fasting glucose check for the next three months so we see some results. Okay?”

You look over at the smiling overweight septuagenarian seated in front of you. Mr Henderson was one of your favourite patients, one of the few you knew well enough to remember even his grandchildren’s name. You loved that. Being a doctor in a busy hospital in Manhattan made making a lasting connection with a patient a rare occurrence, and although you were worried about his health, you were happy you the last appointment of your five years of residency was with someone you knew.

“Doc, I’m old. A little dessert never hurt anyone huh?” Mr Henderson joked, as he patted his stomach, the buttons of his shirts working hard to keep it together.

“I’m serious, Mr Henderson,” you speak sternly, looking up from your iPad screen at the man in front of you, just as your attending walks in through the door.

“Well, Mr Henderson you better listen to Dr. Y/L/N. She’s the best we’ve got and she will keep calling you in for appointments even if she isn’t here!” She adjusts her glasses, her hands in the pockets of her lab coat, as the two delve into a conversation about her upcoming retirement. You were sad to see your mentor and friend retire, but if you were being honest, it was that fact that gave you the courage to make your big move. 

Your colleagues and friends were shocked when you announced that you were moving to Alaska. You had always been the top of your program and had an assortment of top specialization programs to choose from. In fact, your father was the most shocked. He expected you to follow his footsteps and specialize in internal medicine from the prestigious program at John Hopkins. He had even spoken to one of his friends on the admission board to ensure your acceptance. 

He almost choked on his dinner when you mentioned that you had accepted the family medicine specialization program in the small town of Elophtron in Alaska. He was livid, having never even heard of the town, let alone the program, deeming it unworthy of his 28 year old prodigy. But that’s the thing. You were twenty eight. There was no way you would let your father, or anyone for that matter, dictate what to do with your career. 

The only person who seemed to support your decision was your long term boyfriend, Jiho, who seemed ecstatic at the news. He was the first person you told. You were nervous when you broke the news, the two of you had been a little distant the past few months, but your worries were assuaged when he pulled you in a tight hug excitedly telling you how proud he was of you. He knew how much you wanted to take a break from the city, and seeing his enthusiastic support made you confident you were making the right move.

Born and raised in New York City, the overcrowded bustle of the city thrummed through your veins. While you did pride yourself on being a true New Yorker, you would be lying if you said that you were happy here. It was easy to be lost here, to be forgotten amongst the millions of faces crossing the streets. As often as the city lights cheered you up, they also suffocated you. 

The city was cold, a criss cross of concrete and beautiful glass towers housing lonely, selfish souls that didn’t mind tripping over the people sleeping in the streets. People here craved to be noticed, craved to live lavishly, and while you were born into what most craved, what you wanted was the solace of a town where everyone knew each other. A town where you could make lasting relationships that didn’t rely on your last name or where you graduated from.  Elopthron, although a terribly sci-fi sounding town name, was your reprieve from the smog filled mundane.

The days leading up to your departure were full of excitement. You packed quickly, your closet surprisingly fitting into two bags that barely avoided the baggage limit. Your friends hosted a cute little going away party, full of champagne and promises to visit, while your parents hosted a cold dinner, full of lectures and judgement. As your flight landed in Juneau, your heart was beating with nerves. This specialization was at the town’s only hospital, the fact that all the town’s medical talent was under one roof had you excited to learn. Not only that, but the program stated that you would get the opportunity to run things and you couldn’t wait to put your leadership skills to the test again - you were the chief resident at your old hospital and you couldn’t say that the role didn’t suit you.

Collecting your bags, albeit with a little struggle, you reach the doors to the arrivals where the hospital had told you to meet the driver. That is another thing about this dream opportunity, they not only ensured you had a ride into town, but even provided you with your own apartment. To your shock, the driver you meet takes you not to a car but another plane, a small little thing that shakes with every gust of wind. 

It makes you nervous, the shaking rattling your heart around your chest, but the view of the snow covered mountains takes your breath away. You were never one to swoon over nature, preferring your apartment to the hiking trips Jiho got excited about, but seeing the fresh untouched snow stirred something in you. It promised fresh starts and unchartered challenges, and that made your heart beat faster in anticipation.

The feeling didn’t subside even when you made yourself comfortable in your new apartment. The warm wooden finishing was a stark contrast to the metal of your home in Manhattan and as you started the fire before hanging your clothes in the small wardrobe in the corner of your room, you couldn’t stop the grin etching across your features. You were finally here.

The apartment was on the first floor of a two storey complex. It was much smaller than your expansive home, but instead of suffocating it felt cozy. The front door opened to a small hallway furnished simply with a cute oak shoe rack and a full length mirror. It led to an open concept kitchen and living room, separated by a breakfast island. The living room had a large fireplace, stack of wood next to it, and a large yellow couch opposite it. Furnishing was minimal, but your bedroom boasted a large queen sized bed, anchored on each side by matching nightstands and a wardrobe in the corner. 

It was everything you didn’t know you craved as you settled in your bed for the night, noting to thank the hospital for even providing the bedding. As you stared at the wooden slats that decorated the ceiling of your bedroom, you felt comforted. It was unlike your home, where the high ceilings made you feel cold and alone, even when Jiho stayed over. Perhaps you needed this new beginning more than you thought.

The morning was not as serene however, as you somehow managed to turn off your alarm without waking up and were running half an hour behind schedule when you realised you didn’t have a coffee maker. Scrambling out into the cold early December weather you pulled your expensive but utterly useless coat around you as you followed your map app to the closest and seemingly only coffee shop on the one strip of shops the town boasted.

Checking the time to see you still had about half an hour till work started, you slowed down a little to take in the surroundings. Quaint did not cover how cute the small town was. The main strip was a large two way street with a row of little independently owned shops on either side with names such as Once Upon a Book, A Nick in Time, and Thorns and Roses. You didn’t know what these shops housed, although you could guess some, and you couldn’t wait to explore. The cutest thing about the shops was how festive everything looked, fairy lights strung everywhere, mistletoe and wreaths in every window. Like you had stepped into the Grinch’s nightmare, and it was barely October. This might possibly be the most fairytale like town you’d ever stepped foot into. 

You easily located the small coffee shop, chuckling at the ostentatious pink board reading Bean There. It seemed more like an 70’s style diner than a coffee shop, filled with small vinyl tables, each with a small Christmas tree on it. Making your way to the counter, you ordered your usual, blond roast coffee with a splash of almond milk.

“Oh sorry hon. We only have normal coffee and cow’s milk,” the older woman standing behind the cash register answered with a jolly laugh, pouring coffee from a pot into a red to-go cup. Before you could say anything, she continued. “Besides, that’s some hippy stuff. We’ve been drinking cow’s milk for generations and our family has never been healthier! I swear these trends are killing the economy!”

And she talked, going on and on about the benefits of milk giving you no time to interrupt as she poured a copious amount of milk into your coffee making it resemble a latte. You were about to give up and forego the coffee this morning till someone behind you decided to speak up.

“Doris! What did we say about forcing the tourists to drink your farm’s milk?” You followed the deep, joyous voice to its owner, blinking a few times as you registered the tall, dark haired man behind you. Oh and what a man he was. 

Dressed in black skinny jeans and a red flannel shirt under a fur-lined denim jacket, your eyes zeroed in on his broad shoulders. The instant attraction you felt to this stranger had heat rising up your neck. Emboldened by the fact that you would probably not see this stranger again, you let your eyes roam his body, biting your lip slightly, till your eyes met his, a small smirk on his lips. Clearing your throat you awkwardly stepped forward.

“It’s okay. No problem, Doris, was it?”

“No no. You want almond milk, you get almond milk! Doris I know for a fact you have it back there!” The stranger stops you from grabbing the drink on the counter, a hand held up.

“Seokjin! I see how it is! Just because a pretty girl wants almond milk, you share but not when Jeremy wanted to try it.” Doris huffs, straightening her bright yellow apron.

“Jeremy was drinking it as a dare, and I’d rather not waste one of the ten cartons that Dosey orders every month on stupidity.”

“Um… Really it’s fine! I’m going to be late for work so… thank you!” You try to escape. As much as your lactose intolerant gut was wincing at the thought of almond milk, you had spent way more time here than you planned.

“Wait, work? Hon you’re not a tourist at all! Where are you working?” It seemed you only made the conversation more interesting as Doris looked at you beaming.

“At the hospital?”

“You’re the new doctor? Oh my! Welcome Doc! We’re so excited to have you here! I suppose you’ll be seeing a lot of Seokjin then!” She slapped the stranger, Seokjin you suppose, on the shoulder as he stares at you with wide eyes before catching himself and clearing his throat.

“Doris! Will you just make the pretty doctor her drink then? Mine too please!” He leans on the counter and you can’t help but steal another glance at him. He really was oddly beautiful.

“Sure hon! Here you go!” Doris chuckled as she placed two coffees on the counter and you’re pleased to see yours looking exactly how you prefer. You take out your wallet before Seokjin stops you.

“Don’t worry about it. Put it on my tab Doris. Here, let me walk you to work.” He guides you out of the little cafe, a hand hovering near the small of your back.

“I’m sure you have better things to do. I’ll be fine.”

“Oh it’s no problem at all. I’m going there myself.” 

“Oh. Are you a resident?” You did not expect that. By his attire you assumed he worked some manual labour, and by his face you assumed he worked as a model. Somehow you couldn’t picture seeing this man living at a library like you had your years of schooling.

“Nope. Head nurse. So Doris is right, you’ll be seeing me a lot.” He grinned at you, his cheeks puffing up in a way that made you want to poke them. What was in the air in this town? You needed to get a grip on yourself.

“Oh nice to meet you then! I’m -”

“Dr. Y/L/N from New York, right?” Seokjin cut you off before you could finish, looking at you over the lip of his cup as he sipped his coffee, casually guiding you down the main street towards the hospital.

“Right… Seokjin?”

“Yup. Kim Seokjin. How are you liking our little town so far?” He seemed genuinely interested and you smiled. It felt oddly comfortable even if you had inklings of butterflies swarming your belly.

“I love it. It’s really beautiful!”

“Oh wow. Didn’t expect a New Yorker to like it here. You know it’s always cold, right?” he smirked, slowing down as you reached a cute little pink house, before stopping completely.

“I can handle the cold. Wait, this is the hospital?” You looked at the house. It looked more like something a grandma would reside in than a hospital. You were used to glass buildings and top of the art hospitals. As you entered, the door opened to a large waiting area with faded vinyl chairs and a reception desk. It was cozy, but you couldn't believe this was the only hospital in town.

“The one and only. The town’s going to be so excited to finally have a doctor 

again!” His words made you sputter, almost choking on your coffee.

“What do you mean, finally? Where are the other doctors?”

“You’re it!” He grinned.

This was not according to plan. You were here to learn. Learn from people much more well-versed in medicine than you were. You did not expect to be the only doctor. Even if the town only had around 2,000 people, it was still outrageous that you would be the only person treating them, and in this small house. Does this place even have any imaging machines?!

As the day went on, your nerves only increased. Seokjin introduced you to the other people who worked at the hospital. There were only three others, two orderly, and another nurse. There were more people in your friend group of residents back home. This was scary, and as you laid in bed that night, all you wanted to do was talk to Jiho and get comforted. He didn't pick up, and you counted the slates on your ceiling to fall asleep, pushing your mind to rest no matter how alone you felt all of a sudden.

----------

Turns out you were not that alone. Within a month you had finally gotten into the groove of things. Your five-person team gelled together pretty fast, and soon you could anticipate each other's moves and even talk without words. Running a hospital, however, was not all you had cracked it up to be in your head. Although you didn't see too many patients daily, the paperwork kept you way past dinner most days. If it weren’t for Seokjin’s insistence to leave at the same time as you, you might as well had moved into your office.

All in all, it was nice. The town had welcomed you with open arms, and it was exactly what you were looking for when you left Manhattan - a place where everyone knew your name and not because of who your family was, where you could walk into a coffee shop and they'd know your order, where you knew your neighbours and attended extravagantly cheesy block parties. Elopthron had its quirks, how almost everyone here put way too much emphasis on Christmas, adults even going as far as pretending Santa Claus was real for the kids all the time. You weren’t kidding, one time a middle aged patient insisted on not ordering the brace he needed because he knew Santa would bring him one on Christmas. When you told Jenny, the other nurse, to do a psych evaluation, she just shook her head in amusement, thinking you were joking. “Of course Santa is real, Dr. Y/L/N. Here in Elophtron, Santa comes every Christmas with presents!” she had insisted, leaving you baffled. This town was absolutely bonkers, but it was starting to feel like home.

The only thing stopping you from feeling fully content was the fact that your parents were still icing you out and somehow regardless of being only four hours out of sync, Jiho and you had barely communicated this month. You would think you were being ghosted if it weren’t for his sporadic one liners.

You sighed as you looked over the budget for the month, the numbers somehow refusing to add up as you looked at your phone, the Instagram notification lighting it up. You could use a break, so you decide to scroll through your feed, only to stop abruptly at Jiho's new post.

Love my baby so much! Happy four months, beautiful.

It was a cute caption, if it weren't for the fact that you and Jiho had been dating for over four years, your anniversary was in March, and that he was kissing a stunning blond that you didn't recognize in the picture.

You looked at the picture again, closing the app and starting it again, just in case it was a glitch. Nope, apparently, Jiho had broken up with you and forgot to tell you. You could feel the tears pricking your eyes, but they weren't because of sadness. Oh no, you were furious. No wonder that fucker was so excited about your move.

You let out a huge groan, throwing your phone across the room, as you stood up and kicked your desk, tears now freely flowing. You couldn't believe the nerve. You hadn't expected this from him. In fact, much like a loser, you were expecting him to propose at Christmas. You thought back at how he had told you he loved you and called you beautiful, much like he was now professing to that new girl and it made your stomach twist. You wanted to break stuff. No, correction, you wanted to break his face.

You didn't realize you were rage pacing until Seokjin appeared in the doorframe, looking at you with wide eyes.

"Everything okay, Y/N?" he asked, stepping in front of you to stop your pacing. In the past month, Seokjin had gotten surprisingly good at reading your moods. It was like he could see a slight change in your micro-expressions and be able to tell whether you need a coffee, a hug, or a walk. You were truly grateful for him, but at this moment you were afraid you were going to take out your anger on him so you tried to calm down. Stopping your pacing, you plastered a smile on your face.

"Yeah. Everything's fine. Don't worry. Why are you still here?" Seokjin, however, didn't buy your flimsy excuse and pulled you in a hug. You felt yourself instantly calm. It was oddly intimate. He had hugged you before, but never like this. His arms were tight around your frame as your face met his chest, enveloping you in his vanilla scent. Your attraction to Seokjin had faded slowly over time, but right now as he tightened his grip around you in an effort to comfort you, your heart skipped a beat.

With your rage fast diminishing, all you had left was your heartbreak as you slowly started to cry in his chest. He didn't question you. His usually talkative personality, giving way to an understanding silence as he slowly rubbed your back.

When it seemed that you had calmed down, Seokjin pulled away, looking at you with concern. Without asking you for details, he suggested going on a drive. You accepted, knowing that if you just went home all you would do is wallow. You let him drive you to a burger joint, picking up your favorites, before getting back in his truck. The two of you drove for what seemed a long time, the food getting cold as soft pop music played in the background.

He never once pushed you to talk, letting you take in the trees lining the highway, as you watched the snow glittering in the moonlight on the banks. Finally, he stopped the truck, getting out before opening the door for you, taking your hand as you stepped down from the height.

The view blew you away. He had driven you to a field of sorts, getting the back of his truck ready with some blankets. But it wasn't the pine-lined field that took your breath away, it was the sky. Above you the navy hues of the night were alight in colour, pinks and greens blooming like waves in the sea. Stars prickled through occasionally as the weave of colours danced slowly, mesmerizing you. You don't know how long you stared at it in awe, but when you turned around, he was already sitting on the back of the truck, under a blanket, your food being taken out of bags.

He speaks for the first time when you settle next to him.

"You want to talk now?"

"I don't know." You shrug, rattling the ice in your cup as you swirl around your drink.

"It's okay if you don't want to. Just... do you need to go back?" He seemed hesitant, almost disappointed, as he asked. It was endearing how much he cared about the town not being left without a doctor.

"No. Definitely not." You said firmly, staring at the sky, missing the way he smiled at you in relief. The last thing you wanted to do right now was go back to Manhattan so your parents could tell you how you failed and accidentally run into Jiho and his blonde. Hoping to deflect the conversation, you looked at Seokjin, his cheeks puffed as he took a big bite of his burger. "Seokjin, can you tell me something about yourself?"

"What do you want to know?" He says, sipping his drink.

"I don't know. Anything."

"Hmm... well I'm a nurse and I’m the most handsome man in the world." He laughed, clapping his hands slowly as if applauding his own wit. You rolled your eyes, unable to fight the smile that made its way to your lips.

"Oh my god, you dork! Tell me something real. Tell me a secret." You bumped him with your shoulder.

"If I tell you a secret, will you tell me what's wrong?" You hummed, eyes wide in anticipation as you munched on your cold fries. "Well. I secretly kind of hate this small-town life."

His answer shocked you. In the month you’ve known Seokjin, he has been this little town’s biggest fan. With the number of people who greet him, and routinely give him presents, you don’t doubt he could easily be elected mayor. In fact, the chief of police even suggested using him as the town’s mascot, for crying out loud. 

“If you hate it why are you here?”

“Did you know I lived in San Francisco for ten years till last year?” You did not. You couldn’t imagine Seokjin amongst those tech snobs, nor could you imagine him in anything not flannel. “Yeah. I loved it. I worked at this amazing hospital and went out to all these clubs. I was kind of a party animal.” He chuckled, looking at his lap fondly as he picked at the blanket.

“Why come back?”

“Well… my family established this town. We were the first ones here and well I promised my dad when he died that I’d help continue the little traditions in this town.” He shrugged, his mouth a lopsided smile. “Promised him I’d raise my kids here. Family comes before fun.”

“That’s… wow. You must really respect your dad, enough to change your life for him,” you spoke softly, leaning into his lap a little to place your hand over his. “It must have been hard to lose him.”

“It was, but I hope I’m making him proud.” He gave you a genuine smile as he squeezed your hand, before tapping it. “Now enough about my emo self! Are you going to tell me what’s wrong now?”

And so you did. You spent probably three hours out in the cold, before calling it a night. You told him about Jiho and how he broke your heart, and he related by telling you about his own ex that had broken their engagement when he suggested the relocation. Spending time with Seokjin was comfortable, it was easy. There was something about him that warms you up, like hot chocolate on a snowy night.

You hadn’t been that vulnerable around anyone in a while. Your life in New York was calculated, you never knew who you could trust, and so you trusted no one. It felt oddly freeing to be able to talk about your heartbreak and insecurities with Seokjin, and after that night under the aurora borealis, you both became closer. Before, you would only see each other at work, but since then you had been hanging out outside of work a lot. Sometimes the two of you would grab dinner at the local diner, or he would pick you up for working, grabbing coffee and flirting with Doris shamelessly for freebies. The more you spent time with Seokjin, the more you realized how different he was from what you had assumed.

When you first got to know Seokjin, you thought he was hardworking and amiable, but now you knew his dorky side. The side that would come up after a glass of wine, when he would start cracking lame dad jokes, clapping his hands, and laughing at himself. The side that got especially shy, ears turning a bright red, every time you complimented him on anything, be it his work ethic, or a nice new shirt he bought. The side that would go on and on about the Mario universe, regaling you with details about why Wario was misunderstood, or why the movie should only be watched when wasted otherwise it was a waste.

To be honest, you never knew there was even a Mario movie, and when you told him such he gasped loudly, grabbing you by your shoulders and excitedly making plans to watch it together. You wouldn't tell anyone but with your newfound friendship with Seokjin, he had also gotten very comfortable touching you. Maybe it was the aftereffect of being so vulnerable around him that one time or the fact that you were trying to get over Jiho, but every time he pulled you into a hug or brushed past you it made your heart skip a beat. You controlled the flush slowly creeping up your neck, as you shrugged his hands off your shoulders and solidified your plans to watch the movie together.

True to his word, Seokjin showed up at your house with a case of beers, a local microbrew full of hops that made your tongue sing. Halfway through the movie, you had no idea what was happening, Mario and Luigi, who had terribly fake accents, by the way, jumping through trying to save the damsel in distress in what looked like an acid trip. The alcohol didn't help as the plot got more convoluted, but that didn't stop Seokjin from excitedly trying to help you decipher it.

You don't know when it happened, but his arm was around you, casually draped where your head met the couch, his fingers lightly caressing your shoulder as he sipped his beer. You took another sip of yours trying to calm yourself. No matter how many times you tried to focus on the colours exploding on the screen, all you could think about was your hammering heart as your skin heated up under his innocent touch. It wasn't when he abruptly pulled his arm away from you that you were broken out of reverie.

"So what did you think?" He asked excitedly, turning on the couch towards you, a leg moving up and under his other. You hadn't even realized the movie ended. Did they save the princess? Or was it their business they were trying to save? What was this movie even about?

"Um... it was something," you commented, hoping that the vague answer would satisfy him, as you chugged the rest of your beer.

"It's cause you're not drunk enough! Y/N! I told you, you had to get wasted to like this movie!" He whined, clumsily opening another bottle and handing it to you. You weren't drunk, he was right. You were on the right side of tipsy, just on the edge of jumping into oblivion. Seokjin on the other hand, seemed much more ahead of you as he struggled with the bottle opener.

Chuckling, you reached out and put your hands over his, helping him uncap his bottle. You didn't notice how close you had gotten until he whispered thanks and his breath ghosted the skin of your nose. Looking up, your breath hitched as you saw the look in his eyes. Usually filled with mirth, it was jarring to see him looking at you with want, his long dark hair falling into his eyes as they traced your features. You saw his eyes linger on your lips and all you could do was blink. You knew you should move away, he was coworker and friend, but you froze, the two of you lost in the silence.

He made the first move, bringing his hand to your face tentatively. You leaned into it, sighing a little, and that's when you felt his lips on yours. Soft, plush lips that you had imagined more than a few times this past month, molded around yours. The kiss was shy, a little soft as his thumb caressed your flushing cheek. Your hands still on top of his on the beer tightened as you deepened the kiss, and he followed, grunting slightly, his hand moving to the back of your head, angling it a little. You mewled when his tongue licked at your lip, granting him access as it roamed your mouth, easily taking charge as your heart exploded within your chest. You hadn't been kissed like this before, the balance of gentle and domineering, making your knees weak. You were glad you were seated because otherwise, you'd be on the floor.

You don't know how long you were kissing, but the spell was broken as his phone rang, making him pull away abruptly, lips swollen and face red. It took everything in you to not go in for seconds as your mouth followed his. He didn't oblige you though, as he pulled away, resting his hand on your waist as he reached for his phone.

"It's my mom. I'm sorry," he apologized with a pout that did not help how you were feeling. Finding it hard to speak, you simply nodded as if in a daze. His wide, grateful smile made you turn to putty as he answered, only to frown. Quickly ending the call, he grabbed your face and kissed you again, hard but quick, taking your breath away.

"I have to go. I'm so sorry." He looked at you, his forehead pressed against yours, as you blinked. Standing up from the couch, you straightened your t-shirt, as you walked him to the door. He stopped in front of it, his arms around your waist as he pulled you into a hug, making you smile. You felt like a teenager who got to kiss their crush, it was bizarre. Pecking your lips a few times, he bid you goodbye, waving as he walked off, leaving his truck in your driveway.

Shutting the door, you giggled giddily, forgetting all about your earlier worries of maintaining a professional decorum, as your fingertips grazed your lips, still feeling the touch of his lips. That night he messaged you just once, and you reread the text over and over as you fell asleep.

Thanks for watching that stupid movie with me tonight. Can't wait to continue where we left off ;)

The next day you were extremely excited to go to work, changing your outfit multiple times before settling on a pretty pastel pink dress and leaving your apartment, noticing the truck was no longer in your driveway. Stopping by to grab a cup of coffee, you greeted Doris.

“Hi Doc! Happy last day to send Santa a letter!” she chirped as he poured your order. You shook your head in amusement. This was by far the weirdest aspect of this town. They were all so obsessed with Christmas, grown adults refusing to talk about how Santa doesn’t exist. It would be endearing, charming in a way if it weren’t for the fact that Bean There was the location where they collected these letters to Santa, and it was full of people scrambling to write. You would think it would be mostly kids, but you could spot Mr. Hernandez, a sixty year old retired lumberjack, scribbling away, as well as Molly, the recent college graduate. It seemed the town had no age limit when it came to believing in Christmas miracles. 

“Doris, I don’t know what’s in the air here, but you guys know Santa isn’t real right?” you whispered, not wanting to incite a full out riot, like you accidentally did when you first moved and made the same comment. Either this town was very much into the spirit of things or you were just too late to catch up to the mass group hysteria everyone seemed to be a part of.

“Y/N! You just have to believe, hon. I’m telling you every year, whatever you write on those letters comes through. I mean you can’t ask Santa for love or anything but anything material comes! Always. How else do you explain that?” You frowned as she pushed your coffee towards you. Sure, you didn’t have a logical explanation for that but that doesn’t mean Santa was real. However, you were in a great mood this morning, looking forward to seeing Seokjin, and so you acquiesced to Doris when she waved a piece of paper, writing the first thing that came to your head which was a snowglobe, since the shelves behind the counter was lined with about a thousand. You could use a cute one to put on your desk, if Santa was in fact real.

When you walked into the hospital, coffee in hand and pep in your step, you looked around for the familiar mop of dark hair, half expecting a ho ho ho, or some cheerful Christmas pun Seokjin usually pulled out in the morning, but you were met with an empty lobby. Even his office was empty. It was odd. He was usually the first one in after you. 

Walking into your office you felt your earlier excitement twist into nerves. What if he regretted last night? What if he thought you were unprofessional? But he had texted you, surely he couldn’t regret it too much, could he? Oh! He was so drunk last night. He probably regrets it and now finds it awkward to be around you. Technically he was your subordinate, so were you now one of those creepy bosses they show on television? Inviting your employees to your house to get them drunk and make them kiss you? This was bad. Your thoughts raced through your mind as you tried to focus on today’s schedule in front of you, before, thankfully, Jenny broke through them.

“Hey Y/N. I’ll be taking over Seokjin’s workload while he’s on vacation. Is there anything in particular you need help with today? Otherwise I’m just gonna follow the notes he left behind.” 

“Vacation?” you stammered, clearing your throat and taking another sip of your drink.

“Yeah. He takes the ten days before Christmas off every year. Something about a family obligation.” She shrugged.

“Oh. He didn’t tell me.” You tried your best to not sound disappointed.

“It’s been on the calendar for years, doc.” Jenny chuckled as she walked out of your office, leaving you confused as you went to check the employee calendar and lo and behold, there it was ‘Kim Seokjin on vacation’, staring at you. You were annoyed. You expected at least some notice. Did he think he could just kiss you and then go off to wherever he was. Fuming, you opened your phone to text him.

So when were you going to tell me you were away for the rest of the month?

You waited a few minutes, staring at the screen, but when the message still showed unread you gave up and did what you do best when people piss you off. You worked. And you continued working for the whole week, till you were fed up with Seokjin. He had seemed so caring and then to ghost you out of nowhere? Sure, you can expect that perhaps his vacation slipped his mind, but did he suddenly lose his fingers? He couldn’t do you the courtesy of sending a text when you had left on what you thought were nothing but good terms? “Continue where we left off”, your ass.

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

It was two days to Christmas and you were bored. You parents had decided that since you were away, they were going to go on a cruise. Sick of scrolling endlessly through social media, envying your friends, you decided to take a walk to the only place open 24 hours in this town, the diner. It was 2 am and you didn’t think you would see anyone other than Mark, the friendly twenty-year old whose family owned the place.

You were enjoying your plate of fries, and a milkshake when the little bell above the door grabbed your attention off your phone and in walked the last person you expected to see - Kim Seokjin. He was dressed casually as always, his black parka over a white hooded sweater and dark jeans. It didn’t seem like he noticed you, waltzing over to the register to order a coffee as he sat on a stool, waiting for the fresh pot to brew.

Seeing his face, made you stupidly angry. You knew rationally that he didn’t owe you anything, you were just friends. Friends who shared a pretty nice kiss, but you were friends, you had no claim over him, but you still found yourself fuming and getting up from your booth to march over to him.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” you spoke in a normal volume, but Seokjin jumped high, his eyes widening as he put his hand on his chest, staring at you.

“Y/N! Um… what are you doing here so late?” He asked, his eyes shifting around, looking anywhere but at you.

“That’s all you have to say to me?” You crossed your arms, wanting answers.

“I can explain! I swear it is not what you think!” He jumped up from the stool, arms in front of him as he tried fruitlessly to calm you down.

“What is it, then? Did you lose your phone? Did you lose your head?” You scoffed, fully knowing that your comeback was far from witty, but you could barely think, indignation mapped onto your features.

“It’s not that… it’s just… I don’t know how to tell you. I don’t even know if I can.” He rubbed the back of his head, his ears turning red, as they usually did when he was embarrassed. Seeing his demeanour suddenly made the pieces click in your head. There was only one reason people ghosted each other. It was a rejection. You felt your face heat up at the realization, feeling like you were going to cry. Oh, this was bad. You couldn’t believe you were about to shed tears over a kiss. You needed to get out of here.

“No need. It’s okay. I’m a big girl. I can take a hint.” You said quickly, your voice seemingly calm given the situation as you zipped up your parka and walked out of the diner, ignoring his calls of your name. If he really needed to explain himself, he could have followed you, but you walked the ten minutes to your apartment alone, burying yourself under the covers once inside. You didn’t realize that unwittingly you had been thinking about your future with Seokjin, picturing dates and waking up together when all he had been doing was figuring out a way to gently let you down. You decided to let yourself feel the sting, dampening your pillow cases, finding that somehow this hurt more than what Jiho did. Who knew the kind, wholesome small town boy could hurt you worse than a cold lawyer from New York?

----------

Having no close friends yet in town and not wanting to burden the nice people who invited you to their homes, you decided to pretend that you were going to New York over the holidays. You stocked up on enough groceries to get you through the New Years and decided to hide out in your apartment. You spent your time cleaning your apartment, doing skincare, reading the latest medical journals, and binging the Crown on Netflix. 

On Christmas morning, you decided to treat yourself for brunch, making an obscenely large stack of pancakes, piling it high with fruit and chocolate chips, and drowning it in maple syrup. Foregoing dressing up, you sat on your living room floor in your festive pajamas as you watched the political ongoing of the royal family, and enjoyed your sugar loaded creation. However, before you could truly dig into your pancakes, you were interrupted by a knock on the door.

You didn’t know who would be knocking at your door this early and on Christmas. You weren’t expecting anyone and everyone knew you were supposed to be out of town. Sighing you begrudgingly rise as the tempo of the knocks increased. Huffing you opened the door to be greeted by none other than Kim Seokjin, dressed in the ugliest Christmas sweater you had the misfortune of seeing and jeans, with a campy Santa hat atop his dark hair. The forest green Christmas sweater, adorned with a stuffed Rudolph and what seemed like real mistletoe, also apparently lit up, the twinkling red and green lights on it glowed in the morning sun as little flurries collected in Seokjin’s hair. 

Regardless of the terrible wardrobe choice, you couldn’t deny the sudden pull you felt towards him, your heart skipping a beat at seeing him on your doorstep with a small box wrapped in shiny paper. However, you were nothing if not determined, so you schooled your initial wide eyed expression into a glare as you crossed your arms across your chest and leaned into the door frame.

“What are you doing here?”

“Came to give you your present.” Seokjin smiled as he brought the gift towards you, making you scoff and roll your eyes.

“Seokjin, I don’t want you or your presents.”

“Not gonna lie, that kind of hurts.” He scratches the back of his head nervously, sending his hat askew as he sways a little on his feet, unsure of how to proceed.

“Good,” you say as you move to close the door on his face. Not going to lie, you were pretty proud of your resolve. Before you could fully shut the door, Seokjin put his hand out to stop it, jumping a little when he saw the cold look in your eye. Stepping back sheepishly, he cleared his throat.

“Please Y/N. Just let me explain.”

“Go ahead.” Still holding the door half closed, you stared at him, your resolve melting as he seemingly shivered outside.

“Can I at least come in? It’s kind of cold.” You rolled your eyes again, and acquiesced. Not because you wanted to hear him or be near him, but because he looked kind of pitiful shaking in the cold in a sweater that didn’t seem built for the Alaskan winter. Stepping aside you let him in your hallway, leaning against the wall, your patience at an all time low.  “Okay. So… um… how do I even start this?”

“Seokjin. Just say you don’t like me and go. It’s Christmas. The least you can do is be straightforward.” His stammering was infuriating. It made you want to kick him. However, as the words came out of your mouth, Seokjin looked shocked, his eyebrows disappearing beneath his bangs as his mouth flew open. It was a pretty funny sight, and if you were less angry you would’ve chuckled.

“Why do you think I don’t like you? What?”

“Hmm… Let’s see you got drunk, you kissed me and then you disappeared! Like poof!” You gestured in the air with your hand, trying to make the point more apparent.

“Well that’s what I am trying to explain!” And now he was gesturing, his hand with the box rising in the air.

“Oh my god,” you groaned.

“Just open this. It will help start my explanation.” He took your hand in his and placed the box on top of it. You eyed him suspiciously as you began to unwrap the iridescent paper. Inside the box was a snowglobe, the scene inside showing a field full of flowers with a small truck with two people on the hood. When you shook it, it came alive with glitter and tiny styrofoam flurries. It was very cute and very reminiscent of the night Seokjin and you first became friends. You loved it, but it wouldn’t be you if you weren’t petty enough to hide your true emotions to look at him with disdain.

“A snowglobe? Okay? So?”

“Don’t you wanna know how I knew you wanted this?” He spoke slow, his words and spaced out as he frowned at your scowl.

“I didn’t want this?” You matched his slow pace, enunciating each word as you raised an eyebrow in question. Why did he think you would want a snowglobe of all things? I mean he knew what you really wanted was those cupcakes that Doris only made once a month, you had told him how much you adored them on more than one occasion. If he wanted to be all romantic he could have at least bribed her for some of those!

“But… you asked Santa for it!” he sputtered, jogging your memory to remind you of the throwaway wish you made in the letter to Santa a few days ago.

“So you steal mail now? That’s a federal offence, you know.” You narrowed your eyes at him.

“No! No no no. I don’t steal mail. Unless it’s snail mail because it’s easy to catch.” He laughed at his own joke, but seeing your deadpan expression, he backpedaled, nervously running his hands through his hair again. “No? Okay, bad joke. But I didn’t steal it. You sent it to me! I’m Santa!” He was talking more with his hands than his words, waving them around in the air.

“Your excuse is that you’re Santa? How old do you think I am?” you scoffed, moving to push him out of the door, ignoring how solid his bicep felt under that ugly sweater. How was he not getting electrocuted by those stupid lights?

“No please don’t kick me out! I’m telling the truth!” Seokjin planted his feet in the ground turning around and looking at you with wide eyes, the cinnamon depths softening your anger as you sighed. This was so far fetched, the least you could do was hear him out. If nothing else, this would make a great story to share over drinks sometime.

“You have five minutes. And I’m eating my pancakes while you talk.” You let go of him as you walked into your living room, Seokjin close on your heels. You sat on the floor next to the coffee table and he followed suit, sitting much too close to comfort, his thigh grazing yours as he stared at your pile of sugar.

“Oh. Can I have some?” he asked, clearing his throat at your glare as you aggressively cut into a piece before stuffing your face. The nerve... “Sorry! Okay um… so did you think it was weird that the whole town just happened to believe in Santa?”

“I honestly was going to write a paper on mass hysteria, but yes.” You were much more interested now. You always did find the town's dedication to upholding the sanctity of Santa bizarre.

“Well, that’s because for almost a hundred years, people in this town have been getting what they wanted for Christmas, without fail.”

“Because you’re Santa?” You looked at him, waiting for him to explain only to be met with a soft smile as he nodded. His cheeks puffed up with his little smile and it took all of your willpower not to poke at them. Why did he have to be so cute when you were trying to be mad at him. Also, what grown man insists they're Santa? “So where are your elves? Is Rudolph just hiding in your truck?”

“I’ll have you know I’m an elf-made man!” He joked, his pun making you lose control as you let out a light laugh before remembering you were supposed to be mad and trying to hold a neutral expression. Seokjin, on the other hand, made no such effort, a wide grin adorning his features, making his eyes disappear beneath his squishy cheeks. “Hey got you to laugh! But no. No elves. Just me, well, and my family. It’s the family tradition I was talking about. For generations the Kims have been sending people in this town presents on Christmas in secret.”

“Wait how do you even afford this?” This made no sense. How was he buying these expensive presents, and also Santa was Korean? How did his family even hide this for so long? Why were these town people naive enough to believe this? How did he do deliveries? Did he work with Amazon? You had so many questions!

“Um… I’m kind of rich?” he replied sheepishly.

“Kind of? You give 2,000 presents a year!” Your pancakes were forgotten as you swiveled around to face him, your knees touching his thigh, momentarily distracting him as his eyes dropped to where you touched him, before following suit and facing you. The two of you sat cross-legged across from each other as he started what may have been the most useless and longest rant he embarked on since entering your home, talking animatedly as always.

“Yeah… but that’s not the point! The point is the days leading up to Christmas are really hard and this year I had to figure out how to make the drones work and this kid wanted an exact replica of Han Solo’s gun and those are really hard to find and then Mr. Hernadez decided he wanted a rare Amazonian flower. Like where am I supposed to find a flower in December?! And don’t get me started on Doris she-”

“Seokjin. Relax. So you ghosted me because you’re Santa?” You placed your hands on his knees to get him to calm down as his face seemed so red from his rant you were worried you would have to resuscitate him if he didn't take a breath soon. He calmed down exponentially, taking a deep breath and locking his eyes with yours.

“Yeah, and I couldn’t tell you and if I did tell you, you wouldn’t believe me till today anyway. And just… I’m sorry.” He sighed, placing his hand on top of yours on his knee as he held eye contact, and it seemed like you may forever get lost in his irises. He looked at you with such a sorrowful expression, that you weren't sure if the pout of his lips was exaggerated for effect or if it came naturally to him.

“I don’t know what to say… I kind of have regrets” You bit your lip as you gazed back at him with mischief.

“You do? I… I’m sorry. I didn’t even think about the fact that you might not like me back. Oh. I’m an idiot. Okay. I will see you at work. Happy holidays!” He spoke in flurried words as he tried to stand up before you stopped him mid-rise.

“Seokjin wait! That’s not the regret.” You were quick to stop him as he sank back down, a confused look on his face.

“It’s not?”

“No. I regret only asking Santa for a snowglobe! I should’ve asked for a car!” you chuckled, trying to lighten the mood.

“Oh sure! What kind? I can get you a car.” He did not miss a beat before picking up his phone and scrolling through what you could only imagine being his gift list. Wait, were the Kims part of the mafia? You really should ask him where he gets all this money from someday. Nurses get paid pretty terribly, so it's definitely not that.

“Seokjin. I was kidding!”

“Oh. I knew that.” He put his phone down as he looked at you, blinking slowly a few times.

“So you like me.” You ask, leaning in slightly with a smirk.

“Yes.” He answered resoundingly, a determined look on his face as he leaned in as well. The two of you only a hair breadth apart.

“Are you going to kiss me again?” You whisper, not wanting to break the sudden shift in the atmosphere, as you looked at his plush lips, before meeting his gaze.

“Do you want me to kiss you again?” His voice was lower, a little strained as he looked at you, his eyes jumping from each feature before settling on your lips.

“Yes.”

“Then come sit in Santa’s lap.” He leaned back, patting his lap with a smirk, making you blanch as you pull a disgusted face.

“Okay. I changed my mind.” You leaned back, before he came closer, his hands cupping your face.

“No no! Sorry! I just have always wanted to use Santa puns and you’re the only one outside of my family who knows and I don’t kn-” You cut off his rambling with a kiss, a soft, quick one on his lips that made his breath hitch. He recoiled a little in shock, staring at you before pulling your face to his and crashing your lips together.

This kiss was neither soft, nor short, but a flurry of emotions as you both tried to express what you couldn't in words. His lips were firm against yours as his hands moved down your body to pull you closer by the waist. A soft groan left his lips as you parted yours and he wasted no time starting to explore your mouth, his tongue meeting yours. His plush lips moulded against yours and you couldn’t help the moans that fell out of your mouth. You had missed his mouth against yours, the feeling as refreshing as the crisp sun after a blizzard. He tasted like coffee and you sucked at his tongue with fervour, eliciting a shocked moan from him as his hands left your waist to find your ass, gripping it harshly to pull you into his lap. You wasted no time straddling him, as you grind your core against him, making him groan. He bit your bottom lip as he pulled apart to catch his breath. Staring down at your heaving chest, he traced his hands on your hips, before breaking into a smirk. Gone was the rambling man from earlier, his eyes clouded with lust as he took you in. He leaned closer, his lips on your neck as he kissed from your collarbone peaking through your thin pajama top to your ear.

“Now that you’re finally in Santa’s lap, tell him what you want for Christmas.” He whispered, nipping at your earlobe. Wow, he really was not going to let this go. You groaned in annoyance, cupping his face to pull him away from your ear to face you, ignoring the pout on his face.

“For you to shut up.” You kissed him, tilting his head slightly to give you access, before he pulled away, shaking your hands off his face till they rested on his broad shoulders.

“Come on! Let me have this!” He whined, his pout bigger as he looked at you with puppy eyes. You chuckled at his antics, shaking your head as you leaned in for another kiss, missing the taste of his lips already. His hands moved from your hips to the hem of your shirt, slowly moving up under it, tracing over your ribs, just below the swell of your breasts, leaving goosebumps in their wake. 

Moaning gently, but not one to be outdone, you mirrored his movements, moving your hands down his built chest, feeling the soft material, and groaning in annoyance as you reached the stupid stuffed toy stitched to the centre. You reached the bottom of his sweater, but before you reached under it you pulled away, Seokjin chasing your lips.

“Will this dumb sweater shock me if I put my hands under it?” You huffed and played with the hem of his sweater as he smiled goofily, as if realizing he was wearing it for the first time. The goofy smile didn’t last for long as he moved his hands to cup your chest, massaging gently as he leaned in kissing your sternum, visible from the top button that had somehow loosened during your makeout. 

“The only shock you’ll get is how loud you’ll be screaming my name when you cum.” He pulled on your nipples, making you mewl as you involuntarily arched your back, rolling your hips on his. You felt breathless, and you couldn’t believe his stupid wordplay was making you this wet.

“Big talk for someone whining about Christmas puns.” You moaned out as he tugged harder on your nipples in reprimand, his hands pushing against the fabric, as he bit the sensitive skin of your neck. Forgetting your earlier concerns, your hands go under his shirt, feeling his soft skin, the tiny hair on his abs tickling your fingertip, as you push the sweater as high it would go revealing his golden skin.

“Yule be sorry for doubting me.” He finally gives your sore nipples a rest, as his hands move to pull his sweater off, momentarily getting tangled up in, making you chuckle, which he mistakes for praise aimed at his puns, wiggling his eyebrows as he emerges from the monstrosity. If you weren’t so whipped for him, you would have made him leave. You didn’t know if this was a one off, if he really wanted things to progress or he just wanted sex but all thoughts fell out of your head as his lips reattached to your neck, his hands on your hips making you grind against him as the two of you made out like teenagers at prom.

“I will literally murder you if you make another pun.” You moaned out, losing yourself in his touch, his lips leaving behind blooms on your skin. If he kept moving your hips like this you were going to cum. You grabbed on to his hair as you moaned at the sensation your body lit as your clit grazed his length through the layers of clothing. Your legs shook as the feeling in your stomach tightened and Seokjin chuckled against your neck.

“Yeah murder me with that pussy.” You could feel his grin but all your annoyance was forgotten as you felt yourself let go, mewling his name, your orgasm washing over you in waves, your grip on his hair tightening. 

He kissed you as you came down from your high, his erection solid against you as his tongue explored your mouth. When he pulled away he looked almost crazed, the lust in his half lidded gaze mirroring yours as his hands moved to your top, slowly unbuttoning it. “Fuck that was so hot. Let me unwrap you, baby.” 

He wiggled his eyebrows again as he looked at you. How could this man be this sexy and this dorky was beyond you. Wanting to see him writhe over you, you started kissing his neck, moving to his chest, leaning him back as you inched closer to the waistband of his jeans.

“You first!” You exclaimed, wasting no time to unbutton his jeans as he sighed in relief, moving to remove them completely before you reached for his boxers. You were a little taken aback when his cock popped out. It was bigger than you thought, head red as a bead of precum glistened in the late morning sun pouring in from your windows. Your mouth watered at the sight and without thinking you licked up his length, his groans egging you on as you bent over him.

“Shit so perfect! So good to me,” he moaned out as you looked at him. His head lolled back as he leaned against his hands behind him, his wide chest rising heavily due to your ministrations. He let out a loud moan, resembling almost a whine, as you wrapped your mouth around his head, sucking softly. You loved that moan, wanted more of it as you took him deeper, his hand coming to rest on your hair. He panted loudly, his moans filling your room, your mind, as you gazed at him looking at you with awe. “This look soots you.”

He really had to make another dumbass joke, didn’t he? You pulled off his length, sitting back as your hand replaced your mouth, slowly stroking him as you scowled at him. God, you wanted him to beg you so bad.

“That better be suit with a u-i or I swear I’m not gonna let you cum.” You gripped him harder, twisting your wrist as your panties get wetter with power. He mewled a little, twitching in your hand as you grinned. His head lolled to the side and suddenly he looked at you, his eyes sparkling with challenge as your words finally processed in his mind. 

Before you could react, he was on you. One hand gripping your wrist and other behind your head as he leaned you over till your back was on the cold hardwood floor and he hovered over you. He smirked at you before he leaned in to kiss you sloppily, making you lose all senses.

“Aw sweetheart, it’s cute you think you’re in charge.” He cooed, as his forearms trapped your head, his kisses becoming softer, reminiscent of the first time he kissed you a week ago. He took his time, his weight a comforting presence on top of you as you melted into the floor. He looked at you with adoration when you broke apart, his nose touching yours and a soft smile on his face.  

“But seriously, Y/N. I didn’t come here for this. I want this so bad but I want to take you out, I want to hold your hand, drink a milkshake with two straws together. I don’t know! I wanna spoil you!” His voice was low, but his words were fast, like he just couldn’t hold them in any longer. You giggled in disbelief, caressing his back. This man really was going to be the death of you.

“Seokjin you’re naked and you want to hold my hand?” you chuckled as he nodded, his eyes glinting and smiling wide. He reached out to hold your hand, lacing his fingers with yours as he leaned in to kiss your cheek sweetly, an oddly saccharine contrast to the way he was devouring you moments ago.

“I mean I also want to rail you hard, but yeah I don’t want it to be just sex.” You felt your heart flutter at his words, your face heating up more than it already was and you leaned up to kiss him.

“Me neither.” Your grip on his hand tightened and his cock twitched against your thigh, bringing your lust back to the forefront of your mind as you kissed him again, much more hungrier this time. “So come on get on with it. Choo choo!”

He leaned away looking at you with wide eyed surprise before breaking into a shit eating grin.

“Was that a rail- fuck! You’re perfect!” He gushed as he kissed his way down your body, unbuttoning your shirt as he went. He lapped at your nipples, hardening them under his tongue as his hand pulled your pajama shorts off, your panties following quickly after. You wanted to throw another quick witted remark at him, but all thoughts disappeared at his sudden enthusiasm as his mouth made its way to your core. He began to kiss down your slit, light feathery kisses that had you desperate for more, mewling as he continued.

“I’ve wanted to do this for so long, it’s really taken a mistletoe-ll on me.” He grinned, his breath warm against your folds. Your retort was forgotten when he slid his tongue inside you, flicking against your sensitive walls before he was sucking at your clit. The pleasure was unbearable and you shook under him, thanking yourself for forgoing carpeting the floors. He put his arm over your hips to hold you down as you chanted his name. You were dripping, your heart beating loudly in your chest as he ate you like a man starved, pushing you closer and closer to your high. You walls clenched around his tongue as you moaned louder, your hands in his hair, pulling him closer. 

“I’m so close!” you whined expecting Seokjin to speed up to guide you through your high. He, however, slowed down, the pressure in your belly ebbing slowly away as you whined his name. “Why did you stop?!”

“Tell me my puns are funny.” He looked up at you grinning as you yelped when two fingers entered you. His fingers curled inside you making your back arch as you moaned his name. “Come on admit it, Dr. Y/L/N”

“No… they’re… stupid...” you breathed out as his pace increased and decreased keeping you firmly on the edge, your walls fluttering, your eyes squeezed shut as you refused to beg. He kept up his taunting till you thought you would lose your mind, every nerve in your body on fire as your legs quivered. He was insane! Not being able to take it anymore, you conceded. “Fuck… please! Please Seokjin! Your puns are hilarious. I give! Please…” 

“Good girl. Knew you were on the nice list.” he exclaimed as his mouth latched on to your clit and before you knew it you were screaming, your body shaking as you had one of the most powerful orgasms of your life, your arousal gushing out of you as Seokjin gleefully lapped it up. You felt a buzzing in your ears, your vision spotty as he coaxed you slowly through your high.

Seokjin kissed his way up your trembling body, and slotting his mouth against yours, he caressed your sides as you tried to catch your breath. When you opened your eyes he was smiling at you, lying next to you on the floor.

“Told you not to doubt me, baby,” he said lowly as his nose bumped yours gently.

“No pun this time?”

“I was gonna say mistletoe-ld but I already used that one.” He grinned.

“Oh my god,” you groaned, facepalming. “Why do I still want to fuck you?”

“Because I’m a sex god.” He wiggled his eyebrows. You stood up, a little shakily, at his comment, looking down at his alarmed face before walking away to your bedroom. Before you reached the door, you looked back at him. Seokjin was still in the same position, looking at you dumbfounded, probably wondering what he did wrong. You rolled your eyes at him as you gestured towards your room.

“Come on Santa, don’t you wanna climb up my chimney?” You laughed at the speed he stood up, his hard erection bouncing funnily as he ran towards you with a dopey smile, placing his arms around you in a back hug as you walked into your room.

“Stop being funny or I’ll fall in love with you,” he whined, rutting against you petulantly, making you giggle. You guided him to your bed, making him sit with his back to the headboard as you grabbed a condom from your bedside table, stroking him to gently roll it over his length. His breath hitched as you climbed over him, your knees on the bed next to his thighs. Seemingly unable to wait anymore, he put his arms around your waist, pulling you into a hungry kiss, a flurry of tongue and teeth.

You rise, your hands on his shoulders as you slowly descend on his, his girth a soothing pain as your walls stretch around him. The two of you moan into each other’s mouths as you stare at each other, face red and eyes blown from lust. For the first time, there was silence between the two of you, your staredown intense as you slowly started riding him. It felt delicious and it took all of your strength not to close your eyes in pleasure.

Your pace increased as Seokjin’s hands were placed firmly on your hips, pulling your hips higher so he could thrust into you. You kissed him at that, no longer able to take his intense stare and he groaned, increasing his speed. His cock rammed into you and you saw stars, clinging on his shoulders as waves of pleasure flowed through you. He kisses and bites your neck, his lips leaving blooms of petals in their trail, as his movements become sloppy. 

He leans back a little, grabbing your hand to guide it to your clit, rubbing your fingers on it. The added friction to your bud paired with his wild thrusts has you coming undone in seconds. Your toes curl as his name stretches around your moan and you still in his arms, your vision hazy. He cums shortly after, thrusting in you a few times chanting your name before falling lax against the headboard, pulling you against him.

The two of you sat there for a while, till he softened enough to slip out of you, the feeling sending shudders through the two of you. Placing a hand on your chin, he brought your lips to his, before looking at you with a soft smile, his eyes sparkling.

“So… Merry Christmas?” He shrugged making you giggle, as you rolled off him and sat next to him.

“Who knew I’d be a ho ho ho for Santa?” Seokjin laughed, clapping as he squealed with glee, before calming down enough to put his arms around you, cuddling you close, and grabbing one of your hands in his. He played with your fingers as he smiled.

“I’m sorry I ghosted you. I promise I’ll never do that again.” He kissed your temple, tightening his arms around you.

“It’s okay. You made up for it.”

The two of you spend Christmas morning together. You made more pancakes, dressed in only his horrendous sweater as he belted out Mariah Carey in his underwear. Your heart swelled when he placed gentle kisses on your shoulder as the two of you swayed to the music, barefoot on the kitchen floor. You knew you made the right decision when you moved to Alaska, it just took you this moment to realize how right.

----

I hope you liked this fluffy Christmasy piece, for more fics of mine check out my masterlist

[rphelperblog]

A Study in Charlotte Rp Meme

“The two of us, we’re the best kind of disaster. Apples and oranges. Well, more like apples and machetes.”

“Truth be told, I liked that blurriness. That line where reality and fiction jutted up against each other.”

“I wanted the two of us to be complicated together, to be difficult and engrossing and blindingly brilliant.”

“I was maybe the only person to ever have his imaginary friend made real.”

“I don’t need someone to fight for me. I can fight for myself.”

“You have my implicit forgiveness, you know, even when you’re driving me crazy.”

“I felt like I was being pulled through a dark, dank wardrobe into some boozy Narnia.”

“God, I hate teenagers. – Detective Shepard.”

“What do normal people talk about?”

“No, it wasn’t your fault. The note said you’d be killed if you stayed, so I fixed it. I was horrible until you went away.”

“You guys are just sad without each other. There’s like this obvious empty space next to you.”

“But tonight I’ll go alone. You’re about as stealthy as a lame elephant. See you later.“

“My mother had been monologuing about how much I’d like it there while I packed up my closet in silence, wondering if I flung myself out the window, would it properly kill me or just break both my legs.”

“Without each other, we could, quite literally, die.”

“I’d always hated those films—they’d portrayed Dr. Watson as a bumbling idiot, and Sherlock Holmes as an automaton.”

“I’d prefer to think that we aren’t all so mercilessly bound to our pasts.”

“I meant to say that I won’t doubt you again.”

“I tried to fight the feeling that I was a guest star in my own life.”

“I loathe psychology.”

“I hate losing at games, too.”

“I belonged here with her, as surely as anyone belonged anywhere. As weird as here was.”

“I don’t cry, as a rule. Nothing good comes out of fighting, i’ll give you that, but crying? For a moment, you might feel a touch of release, but for me that’s always been followed hard by waves of shame, and helplessness. I hate feeling helpless. I’ll do anything to avoid it. -

“i loathe pyschology.”

“I was too soft on the inside, you see. No exoskeleton. I felt everything, and still everything bored me. I was like … like a radio playing five stations at once, all of them static. At”

“I could tell he was lying. But it didn’t mean I knew what the truth was.”

“There it was, that weightless rush, that floor-bottoming-out exhilaration that comes from saying something you can’t take back.”

“No one else in the world would put up with this girl. “You are awful,” I said, and even then I was forgiving her.”

“people would much rather correct you than answer a straightforward question.”

“You think you’re defending my ‘honor,’ but you’re just as bad as he is.”

“Reading took me away from myself, so I tried to be reading all the time.”

“I tended to spend too much time with my favorite things, loved them too hard until I wore them down. After a while, they became more like a shorthand for who I was and less like things I actually enjoyed.”

“Being a woman with a contrary opinion does not render me hysterical.”

“It’s strange to grieve for your former self, and still I think it’s something that any girl understands. I’ve shed so many skins, I hardly know what I am now—muscle, maybe, or just memory. Perhaps just the will to keep going.”

“I want to be good without being nice. Can I do that?”

“I have a rainy-day fund, you know,Until recently, it was raining…rather a lot. But I…I’ve been trying to use an umbrella.”

“She looked like a whisper made real.”

“It seemed like a good idea at the time.”

“That’ll be written on a few tombstones before this is over,”

“Just because you know something about yourself doesn’t mean you should be forgiven for it.”

“I love you. I’ve never in my life loved anything more.”

“Girls could be so profligate with their love, as though by spreading it wide, they would induce the world to love them back. As though the world wasn’t going to take that love and beat them with it.”

“Every version of you is interesting to me.”

“I imagine she’d do anything to keep you alive. But giving her your heart is like handing a glass figurine to a child. She’ll flip it over, peer through it like a lense. Shake it to see if it makes a sound. In the end, it will slip her hands and shatter. In the end, it’s your fault. You were the one who gave it to her.”

“I simply was what I was—a girl who had forged herself into a statue.”

“When we first met, I had only been trying to survive, and he had snuck in, somehow, when I was at my lowest, and now I didn’t know myself without him.”

“Once, I had loved her so much it was like a needle through my heart. Maybe I still did. Somehow, though, it seemed beside the point.”

“I was somebody who only wanted to see the world through paintings, never a photograph.”

“The only common denominator in everything you attempt is yourself.”

“did you just call me a cow, you whale?”

“I couldn’t atone for anyone’s mistakes, but I had two hands, and I could help.”

“There needs to be a German compound word for feeling both guilty and enraged. “

[footballxwrites]

oh my word part 2 for that Chilly one where he comes home after his night out and you’re gone and all you’ve left is a note, he freaks out and goes looking for you 🥺🥺🥺

Let you down

Pt 1

“Shit” he hissed, sneaking through the door at the early time of just gone midnight, which was surprising to say the least seeing as he was usually out for another good three hours and that’s at the earliest. Stumbling over his training bag he forgot was lying there, he was quick to dash it across the floor beside the shoe rack, only to notice it was seemingly empty and that there were a few pair of trainers missing, your trainers in particular.

Any other time he would’ve blamed the drink and his sleepily mind ‘playing tricks’ on him but he’d only had a couple of pints tonight and was sober as could be, not really in the mood to get wasted after the, what he thought was little, rather big argument the two of you had before he walked out, leaving you high and dry.

“Eh?” he stood puzzled in the hallway of the strangely cold house, shivering at the slight chill. It was as if the heating hadn’t been on for hours and it’s a known fact you literally can’t sleep with some sort of warmth flowing through the walls so for it to be less than 18 odd degrees in your London house just wasn’t normal.

“Babe?” he whispered, climbing the stairs as silence seemed the room, hearing no word of reply as he entered your bedroom, the sheets still tucked and untouched and you of course not there. The little bits and pieces of yours all cleared out, leaving the room looking bare as ever, not to mention your, well his, wardrobe close to empty.

“Y/N?” he called, jogging back down the stairs in hope you’d be in the kitchen or living room but there was no luck. “Fuck fuck no” he panicked, clicking into realisation as he saw your house key perched on the dining table along with a small note reading “I gave you a chance”, breaking his heart as his eyes crossed the words, not having a clue what to do.

He wasted no time in grabbing his car keys and racing to the Mercedes parked on the drive before going in a search around London for you, knowing you could literally be anywhere, I mean you could’ve got on a train back to Manchester to see your family for all he could tell.

—————————————

“Mate I’ve really fucked it this time” he said down the phone to James, not having coming from his house less than an hour ago, “she’s gone...for good and it’s all my fucking fault, Christ I’m such a dick at times” as he hummed down the speaker, “you’re really not helping” Ben sighed, hitting the steering wheel in annoyance. “Well you’re right it’s your fault, what do you want me to say bro?” his friend replied making him roll his eyes as he knew he couldn’t in the slightest bit be arsed. “You could at least pretend to care you know” he groaned hearing his pal lightly sigh, hesitant on what to say, “look, do you love her?” he finally spoke making Ben screw up his face at the obvious question, “like fucking mad”

“I shouldn’t be telling you this and Kennedy will kill me...but she’s in Surrey with a friend, I’ll text you her address” he spoke, Ben letting out the biggest sigh if relief, thankful you weren’t far away, “cheers mate I owe you one”

Pt 3

———

So here’s the start of the mini series...I plan to keep it quite short and sweet hence why it’s a mini one, but I can’t wait to write the next part! Let me know what you think of it please ♡

[giorno-plays-piano]

At all costs

Pairing: dark!Steve Rogers x Reader (Survival Games AU)

Warnings: obsession, depiction of violence, death of minor characters, swearing, slight allusion to non-con.

Words: 2959.

Summary: What was the reason to keep fighting when there was no end to all of this? Yet every time somebody chased you with a gun you were ready to rip their throat out if you needed to. Your sense of self-preservation and vital capacity were way stronger than you had ever anticipated.

P.S. This was written for Shameless hoes for Chris challenge! Dear @navybrat817 and @stargazingfangirl18, hope you will enjoy <3

Dialogue prompt #12: "Don't you dare take another step."

____________

You had never moved that far to the North, but the ones following you cut all other ways out, forcing you to enter territories you had never been before. Although Wanda had warned you about it, there was not much you could do - you almost ran out of both bullets and food. It seemed the game masters had finally paid attention to you and wanted you to move, and it was a damn bad sign.

Carefully hiding an empty can in a heap of garbage just like Wanda taught you, you glanced around again, checking your surroundings with Beretta in your hand. Apparently, there was nothing much in this area apart from ruined buildings just like everywhere else in this abandoned city. You were in desperate need of bullets since you had precisely two left in the magazine of your gun. You wasted most of your resources to fight off three men following you, but then suddenly game masters more coming after you.

You didn't know how much time you had already spent there, fighting every goddamn day just to stay alive. If not Wanda, you would die shortly after you were brought to the abandoned city.

She called it a sick game for sick people. All of the ones in this place were brought here against their will, you included. The last thing you remembered was walking home after going to the grocery store in the evening, and then you woke up on a dirty mattress in the back alley with a gun in your hand and a small bag with food and water supplies. No medication, no hygiene supplies, nothing else. Well, there was a possibility to find or buy a few things like painkillers and bandages, for example, but it was so rear you only really saw a little pack of Tylenol once.

When Wanda found you, you had already eaten all your food and finished your water, hiding behind a huge garbage bin in the alley, trembling so bad you couldn't hold the gun properly. Funny enough, you didn't even know how to pull the trigger as if you had never seen it on TV thousands of times. You were so pathetic that you didn't really deserved to die from a bullet in your forehead. A stone from the ground was enough to smash your head to pieces - this is what Wanda told you, dragging you to her hideout. She didn't try killing you, though.

She used to be a child soldier, she said. Sokovian civil war, a conflict you barely heard of. Although Wanda looked fairly young, maybe even your age, she had the eyes of an old woman. Unlike you, she had been kidnapped with a purpose of making the game more interesting - Wanda knew everything about surviving in the middle of chaos. You, on the other hand, were snatched up and used as cannon fodder for this little artificial war.

It was a game, Wanda said. There were cameras everywhere in the city, and all players were tracked with the chip-things buried in them. The only purpose of the game was to stay alive as long as you could. Maybe there was a chance to be released if you killed enough people, but she didn't believe it. Wanda was sure there was no way out.

All those apocalyptic and Hunger Games type of movies could never live up to the real thing. You were always moving from one place to the other, never staying somewhere for too long. Hiding wasn't easy, but it couldn't be compared to the mad chase when other players discovered where you were. Even Wanda who handled rifles and guns as if she were born with them in her hands wasn't able to predict who would come out alive. So, your main goal was to remain hidden as long as you could. The game masters didn't like it, but with so many players, many of whom were either soldiers or dangerous criminals, no one really paid attention to the two of you.

You often asked Wanda why she was taking care of you. Indifferent, unfriendly, unsympathetic, she seemed the perfect soldier to you while you were too normal to be able to live long in a place like this. Wanda stayed silent despite all your attempts to learn her motives. The only thing she was willing to talk about was how to stay alive.

"Steal. Kill. Open your legs of you have to. Do whatever it takes to survive." That's what she once told you after she shot a dying man asking for help and took all his posessions.

There was no justice, no moral, no honor, no sense of right or wrong, nothing to believe in, nothing to hope for except seeing another day. All of you were just animals fighting for your life every fucking second.

There was no meaning behind it, you thought. What was the reason to keep fighting when there was no end to all of this? Yet every time somebody chased you with a gun you were ready to rip their throat out if you needed to. Your sense of self-preservation and vital capacity were way stronger than you had ever anticipated.

When you thought about her words, you found it odd that Wanda who cared only about survival took you, a dead weight, to take care of. Wasn't it literally the opposite to what she taught you? Why diminish her own chances to stay alive just to save you? Maybe she wanted to team up with someone, but there were much better players for that, not some girl who had troubles even pulling the trigger. Nevertheless, your grim savior had never opened up to you about the true reasons behind her actions, and, eventually, you just stopped asking.

Wanda kept teaching and guarding you until the day she died, shielding you with her own body when someone tried shooting you. She broke the most important rule she set herself, and you couldn't understand why. There was so little human left in her, and yet she sacrificed herself to give you a chance to pull through.

Suddenly, you froze, feeling you were being watched. You couldn't see anyone around or hear anything suspicious, but you had that uneasy feeling of something crawling under your skin. Your instincts were telling you somebody was very close, and you didn't fucking like it. With two bullets, your chances to stay alive were minimal.

There was a shift in atmosphere, and you ran to the next room of the abandoned building, hearing the sound of gun firing. Shit.

"If somebody is chasing you, don't think." Wanda said, watching your eyes opening widely at her. "All this TV bullshit makes you feel like you'd be able to make a right decision in a second while they shooting at you, but that's not true. It will slow you down. Keep your eyes open and trust your instincts instead. If you're lucky enough, you will survive."

She said to reserve time for thinking when you would break away from pursuit, and her advice had never even once failed to save your life. Maybe you were damn lucky just like Wanda said.

But where could you run from here? The room where you were now had just one door. There were a few windows, too, but jumping from the third floor to the cemented road would probably cost you a broken leg or even a spine.

Shit, shit, shit.

You could hear the sound of someone's footsteps and hurriedly hid behind an overturned table to your left, keeping your finger on the trigger of your Beretta. The one who was going to enter the room in a few seconds would first see a huge wardrobe lying on the floor to their right, big enough to hide behind it, too. If you were lucky, the player would first pay attention to it, giving you a second or two to shoot. When the man set his foot inside the room, you quickly stuck your head out for a second and aimed your gun at him. When you fired the first bullet, you knew you missed his head right after you pulled the trigger. Fuck. The second bullet was gone the next second, but it hit the target perfectly, and then you saw the wall covered in blood as if it were a picture made by action painter. Well, now you could probably call yourself that.

Turning away, you exhaled loudly when the body hit the floor with a loud thud. You were still alive.

Carefully lifting yourself up, you glanced at the corpse of a player, the feeling of being watched finally gone. He was alone here. However, the sound of guns firing could be heard by others, and you needed to relocate immediately. The next moment you were looking through the man's belongings, finding two cans of chicken - you preferred to have something more nourishing, but any food would do now - a water flask, and two combat knives. No ammunition. He waisted all his bullets trying to kill you.

Biting your lower lip, you hurried to the first floor, doing your best to avoid windows. Knives weren't bad, but most of the time you preferred not to engage in hand-to-hand combat. Any decent soldier would easily outpower you, and you couldn't risk it. Damn, you waisted all your bullets to kill the bastard with no ammunition left. How lucky was that? Cursing under your breath, you carefully observed the street, seeing no one, and moved as fast as you could, a gun still in your hands to make players believe you could still shoot.

You wanted to return to the South so bad. You knew that part of the city to perfection while here everything was new. More than that, here the players teamed up in a big groups, guarding their territories like animals, while in the Southern part everyone always moved around and worked in a pair of two or three people maximum. It was a shame you couldn't return because of game masters chasing you like a mad dog.

All of a sudden that feeling of being watched returned, and you hid in a little alley where huge metal dumpsters were - or what was left of them. Somebody had spotted you, but you couldn't stay in an alley for long. It was a dead end.

"I know you ran out of bullets." Somebody's deep voice cut the eerie silence, and you shivered, gripping your Beretta. "Please come out. I'm not going to hurt you."

The stranger was either guessing or bluffing. He couldn't really know you had no ammunition whatsoever, so you stayed where you are, trying to locate him.

His loud sigh sounded closer to you than you had expected.

"Y/N, I'm telling the truth. You have just wasted your last two bullets, haven't you?"

The next second you were clenching the combat knife Wanda had long passed to you. There was a tall beefy man coming to you with a rifle in his hands, apparently, Kalashnikov or M16, you couldn't see well from a distance. However, you did see he was oddly handsome with his well-built body, his arms solid, covered in dirt and what seemed like ash. But what truly made you grasp was that he had no beard. The man had a clean shave, his dirty blonde hair cut. Except for game masters, you had never seen a man looking so civil.

But he didn't look like a game master at all. Who the fuck was he?

"Don't you dare take another step." You growled like an animal at him, gripping your knife. It was a pathetic weapon against a rifle, but it was the only thing you had.

He stopped for a few seconds, his expression heavy and dark, but then the man kept coming, and you took a step back in return.

"I just said I'm not going to hurt you. Stop looking at me like I'm a butcher and you're a little lamb." He sneered and narrowed his dark blue eyes at you while you clenched your teeth. Whoever he was, it wasn't going to end well for you.

"How do you know my name?" You barked back at him, thinking what he's going to do next.

"From the game masters, of course. How many times do I have to tell you I won't hurt you?"

"What the fuck do game masters want from me, then?"

His handsome face darkened, and you realized he could fire his rifle any second. Moreover, even if he had no bullets, with those arms of his he could probably break you in half, and no knife would save you.

"Don't swear, Little Red. This your one and only warning."

As you made a step back, staring into him and understanding nothing at all - how the fuck did he call you just know? - you had stumbled upon something and fell on your back, crying out in despair. Shit, you were out of luck, weren't you? You would probably die today.

Before you could react, you saw the stranger's large body hovering over you, the muzzle of his rifle pressed into your stomach as his angry eyes pierced through you. He was clearly done with you and your stubbornness. "I came to offer you join my group." He said, furrowing his brows at you, laying on the ground. "The Howling Commandos. Ever heard of us?"

"And who the f... who would I be there? Someone's whore?" With your face burning with deep hatred and humiliation, you were ready to spit in his face. "You think I don't know how little women are left here and what you do to them?"

Obviously, you hit the nail on the head as the man grabbed you by the collar while still having the muzzle aiming at your stomach. He was clearly mad.

"Do you also know what's gonna happen if you keep up with that attitude?" The stranger snarled, his eyes furious. "I know you've got fire, and I like it. I want to keep you. But if you're not going to submit to me right here, right now, I will shoot you. Don't make me do it."

Both of you fell silent, your chest heaving up and down as the man waited, not moving an inch. You needed to have a minute to gather yourself.

What other choice did you have? He'd shoot you dead before you even blinked.

Steal. Kill. Open your legs of you have to.

"Alright." You said through your teeth, feeling the smell of gunpowder and gasoline coming from him as he kept you close, still gripping your collar with his huge hand. "I'll come with you."

"Good."

The man raised you on your feet in the very next second, pushing your combat knife on the ground away with his leg and gesturing you to move forward. However, he did put the rifle down as he took you by the elbow, leading you somewhere to the huge parking lot and watching you intently. However, he didn't radiate anger as before, seemingly content with your submission, so you kept your mouth shut despite all those questions in your head. Why did game masters give the man information about you? You had never heard of them interacting with any players aside from chasing them from one location to the other. Besides, why did this bastard call you Little Red? What the fuck was that?

"What's your name?" You asked, turning your head to him as you kept walking.

"Captain Steve Rogers."

"So, you're an ex-soldier, huh? A war vet, maybe?" You coughed a little, your mouth feeling dry like the Sahara Desert.

"Something like that, Little Red."

"Why are you calling me that?"

"Little Red? This is how the ones watching the show call you." Steve chuckled. "Wanda Maximoff was the Scarlet Witch, and since you're her protege, they called you Little Red. Kind of sweet."

You wanted to tell him to go fuck himself, but decided it was safer to stay silent. Sick bastards. They treated Wanda as if she were a character in some silly video game. Her death probably made them happy.

Blinking the tears away, you bit down on your tongue and felt metallic taste filling your mouth. This was not the time to mourn your dear friend, this was what Wanda would say to you. You had to gather yourself and think what to do after. You were in Howling Commandos now, and only God knew how many men were there. Would you have to sleep with them all? Fucking hell. It was better to die than go through this.

"Why the hell everyone's paying so much attention to me?" You grunted as Steve hummed, crossing the parking lot and turning you to pass under the bridge. "Do they want me dead so desperately?"

"No. They want you to team up with someone who will take care of you just like Wanda did, and I fit the role perfectly. I've been wanting to have you for a long time."

"Are you fucking insane?" You hissed angrily at him, becoming rooted to the ground right where you stood. "Take care? Is that how you take care of women? Throwing them to your men to be fucked to death?"

"Language." His iron grip on your arm made you squirm as Steve pulled you closer to him.

You stared at him with disgust, your dirty face distorted, and then you saw familiar fire in his deep blue eyes as Captain loomed over you, grabbing you by the chin.

"Don't tell me you have forgotten what I just said, Little Red. I will keep you for myself."

__________

Tags: @finleyjayne @alexakeyloveloki   ​@helenaeisenhower @villanellevi @hurricanerin ​@void-hoechlin @abyssaint @heeeyitskay @chris-evans-indian-fanfic @navegandoaciegas @rosalynshields @brattycherubwrites @sllooney @lovelydarkdaydream @angrythingstarlight

[degenerate-otaku]

Hey guys! This is a Future 17 X fem reader fic I wrote for a friend who didn't want to expose themselves as a simp.

please like and reblog if you enjoy and feel free to send a fic request if you want one, but keep in line it might take me a while, since I have a few to write rn.

♡♡♡

Warning: this fic contains smut

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There was almost silence in the barren city. Smoke poured into the cloudless sky on that Spring day, which felt warmer than normal. The only downside to that was that you and your family needed more water, so, being the oldest sibling, you went out to fetch water and food.

When entering an abandoned shop, with a stable enough roof, you thought you heard footsteps from inside.

“H-hello?” Your heart pounded.

“Is anyone there?” You looked around, careful not to tread on broken glass or anything useful as you continued walking towards a till, in the hopes that there was anything behind it, since the shelves seemed to have already been ransacked.

Then, someone popped up from behind the till, the sight of them making you tremble.

“Hello, miss...welcome to...whatever the fuck this store is called.” He chuckled, his icy eyes bereft of emotion.

This was Android 17, no doubts about it. You knew that whilst he appeared to be like a normal teenager, he was a cruel cyborg...yet there was something fascinating about him.

You wanted to run, but found yourself stuck to the ground, as if his cold glare had frozen you on the spot.

“Are you hungry?” He asked, almost invitingly. You wanted to nod, but your body still felt stiff.

“What's wrong? Are you...afraid?” His eyes scanned your body, then he smirked.

“You must be...you can't even muster a single word...” He stepped out from behind the till, his eyes not wandering for a second.

Suddenly, he grasped your chin in his hand, which was fairly small and warm...he didn't seem like a cold blooded killer at all. He kissed you, and you just couldn't resist. You couldn't even tell he was a cyborg at all, even when his tongue was in your mouth as you softly moaned. Then, there was a sharp, sudden electric shock, which coursed through your entire body.

He laughed as you recoiled, your hair slightly frizzed up from the jolt, and you remembered who you were dealing with again, returning you to a fearful state.

“Please don't-” You began.

“Kill you?” He cut you off. “Hmm...it would be a waste of a pretty human...I think you'd look much better as a moaning mess on my bed, rather than a blood splatter in an abandoned store...wouldn't you agree~?”

You blushed, realising what he meant. You knew he would kill you if you refused...but you didn't want to throw up at the thought of it, surprisingly, a part of you was rather curious to see how humanoid he was.

You found the strength to nod.

“I'm glad you think the same...whatever your name is.”

“It's Y/N...” You wondered where that courage came from.

“Y/N, huh? Cute...” He smiled, then lifted you up. Being too afraid to protest, you went along with it, letting him carry you as you flew to an extravagant mansion, holding tightly onto him.

Landing at the door, you wondered what kind of things he would do, hating that it somewhat excited you.

17 led you in. It was a huge building, but mostly a mess, with drink bottles, food wrappers and other junk lying around in most places, which didn't surprise you. The androids left most places in terrible states, why would they treat their home any better, especially when it was just some place they stole after killing the owners?

Grabbing you by the hand he dragged you upstairs, taking you into the master bedroom, which you imagined was his, due to the many games consoles on the floor and outfits in the wardrobe.

“Take your clothes off. Now.” He commanded and you did so, feeling a little self conscious and slightly whorish for doing this, besides, the androids had earned a reputation for being deadly beauties.

You stood, not staring him directly in the eyes, fully undressed for him. Glancing at him for a second, his eyes were full of desire, and you could see that he was hard already.

He then made a show of himself, slowly getting undressed for you. His body was not how you expected it to be. He was thin, and actually around the same height as you, and you couldn't help but notice he had some scars.

When he caught you staring at them, he told you to stop before he gave you scars of your own. He instructed you to pleasure him, so you tried to kiss him again and he bit your lip softly before you pulled away.

You decided to kiss his neck, sucking and licking it, then lightly kissed his defined collarbone down to his chest, where you decided to make a risky move by rubbing on and sucking his nipples making him moan gently, a sound you hadn't expected to hear from him but enjoyed.

For a moment you stopped, stunned he could even react in such a way, but he told you to keep going and you noticed how big his dick looked.

Dragging your tongue down his slender figure, all kinds of thoughts popped into your head. You decided to stroke his cock a few times, then use your mouth again, at first licking the tip, then the shaft, then placing your entire mouth around it, going rather slow, causing him to become impatient.

He grabbed your head and shoved his cock into your mouth, causing any sounds you made to be muffled. You sucked his dick, trying your best to please him, for fear of him becoming angry, but also because you hedonistically wanted to pleasure him, so you could earn it in return.

He was basically fucking your throat, his hips jerking involuntarily, God, he had nice hip bones, as well as good thighs, which you grabbed onto to brace yourself, your hands travelling up to his ass, when he suddenly came without warning, his hot seed spilling from your lips and pouring down your throat.

You cleaned his cock with your tongue and savoured the salty taste.

“Wow...someone's a slut~” He teased you, flicking your nose as you wiped your mouth clean. He didn't seem exhausted at all, even though he had blown his load in your mouth and there was a lot to swallow. He didn't even moan your name like you wanted, but you were uncertain if he even knew your name.

He ordered you to get on the bed, which you noted was soft and comfortable, unlike anything you had ever lay on. You rested your head on the pillow and spread your legs automatically when his body hovered over you. His arm pinned both your hands behind your head as he leaned close to your ear and said, “I know you aren't a virgin, you little whore...you better be a good girl, before I have to break you...I don't wanna break my new toy, though~”

“Won't...your sister hear us?” You weren't sure why this was at the forefront of your mind.

“18? No, she's out shopping or whatever...probably fucking someone too.”

Your heart raced as the tip of his dick touched your entrance.

“Beg for it~” He teased you again, rubbing his cock against your dripping wet pussy.

“Please, 17...I wanna be your fucktoy~” You moaned.

“Well...if you insist~” He chuckled lowly then thrusted his cock inside you, making you call out his name already. He was hard and rough, yet his cock was already deep within you.

You begged him for more, even though you could hardly think straight as your tits bounced and your back arched. He called you a dirty slut again and played with your tits, making you whine again.

He flipped you over so he could fuck you harder in another angle, his dick perfectly filling your hole.

"Fuck...you're so tight~“ He groaned as he jerked his hips forward again.

”I-I think I'm close-“ You were able to speak, but he spanked your ass, warning you, ”Not yet...you cum when I say so.“

You could tell you looked like a slut, with your back arched so much, and your eyes rolling up to the back of your head as you panted, trying not to orgasm.

Then he moaned again and with one final thrust, cummed inside you as you yelled his name, orgasming too.

His cum filled your insides and mixed with yours and ran down your inner thighs as he kept thrusting, slower this time, just to ride out the orgasm.

”Shit...no-one's made me cum so easily~“ He praised you just after pulling out.

You collapsed on the bed, your legs too weak and trembly to hold yourself up. Turning, you saw that his face was kind of red, but nowhere as near as your burning cheeks, and he didn't even pant heavily or waste time catching his breath.

He quickly gave you a towel from the bathroom to clean yourself up with and a pill. ”I don't want you getting pregnant...my sister would hate me.“ He remarked, giving you a glass of water to swallow it with.

As you got up and put your clothes back on, 17 went out of the room to get something. When he returned he had a bag full of food and water. The food was mostly snacks, but at least it was something edible and would last for a long time.

”Here's a gift, take it before I change my mind.“ You didn't expect such generosity from him. You sheepishly took the bag and he offered to fly you back to the city.

You agreed and advised him to land discreetly. On the flight, he began to talk to you.

”Just so you know...if I get the suspicion you've been with another man, I'll definitely find them...and kill 'em, got it?“

You nodded.

”Good girl...“ He praised you, making you feel warm inside. ”Now...when you go home...you can't tell anyone about this ok?“ You landed with him as he gave his final warnings.

”I will be back...“ He tucked a strand of hair behind his ear, allowing his earring to twinkle in the pink glow of the sunset.

”I promise, Y/N.“

You had to hold back a gasp, but you clearly looked shocked.

”Hm?“ He raised an eyebrow.

”Nothing...I just really can't believe this...you aren't like the person I hear about at all...I didn't think you'd care to remember my name.“ You answered, feeling quite stupid for saying it aloud.

”Y/N...“ The name rolled off his tongue. ”Its fun to say...I wish my name was that nice.“ He smiled for a second, but then scowled, ”Don't get the wrong idea...“

17 turned, said goodbye plainly, then shot off into the distance.

You hoped his promise was genuine.