#If anyone has any suggestions (nothing suggestive please) feel free to drop them in my askbox
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miramisaki · 9 months ago
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58(???) days until Charlie...
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faofinn · 6 months ago
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This blog feels as if filled with wasted potential.
I have some writings, of Harrison and Finn, The Cunningham-Cole clan and the Daniels, but I don’t know what I'm supposed to do with them; it almost feels like I need to be asking permission to write about them - and hell, even thinking about them half the time. Which, while I'm aware how daft it all sounds, is what is continually putting up roadblocks in my path and why nothing has been posted (at least Ev's side, I can only speak for myself; there is no communication or desire to).
I tried using other characters, tried making new ones, but there's nothing behind them, and a few paragraphs in, we're back to Harrison and Finn but with different names.
I used to use writing as an outlet, a crutch for my failing mental health. As much as I feel like a dick to admit it, having only myself to think about has allowed me to save a huge part of myself that was atop a crumbling cliff's edge and barely hanging by a thread. I didn't realise how many things I'd stopped doing or enjoying. I've found a spark for things I thought were long gone, what I thought was lost to the long hours at work but, apparently, was not.
Now that my spark is me, I've found myself writing when I get the muse, not when I'm rock bottom and burnt out and trying to find a distraction. The new characters feel like the boys wearing a pair of fake glasses and a mustache and expecting me not to notice. For the record, they're very noticeable. I'm trying to work a way to keep my boys going, to get them from my brain into a decently readable piece of writing, but trying to do so and keep all toes un-stepped has left me a little stumped.
Maybe I should just get it out here, or maybe a different blog would be better? If anyone has any suggestions, please feel free to let me know!
Anyway, I just wanted to drop back in and say hi. I hope y'all are doing well, because I am. And that's something I can say wholeheartedly. Or, at least, wholeheartedly mentally. My body regularly attempts to give up the ghost, and I've had far too many ambulances and pre-alerts to resus over the last months. It's much more fun when you're writing about it, a lot less fun living it.
Take care, y'all. Keep whumping.
Ev
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hotsexydorks · 2 years ago
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😈 Generic Plot Ideas 😈
Generic | Incest | Cheating/Cuck | Hypno  
He called it community service. They called him Glory Hole Whore.
“Shit! Sorry Coach! I didn’t think anyone was here..” “Don’t worry about that, why don’t you come join me, nothing about a shower between men.”
“Think he’ll notice?”  “Bro that slut? He’s been eyeing up your bulge since you walked in the door.”
“What did I say? If I find you near my daughter one more time. I'd show you what happens when real men are in charge.” 
“So still want to complain about me and my guys moving into your apartment complex? Me and my boys can leave and find somewhere else to live …. no? That’s what I thought.” 
“This one's good boys, come on in!! Hope you guys like parties, cause you’re about to be the center of one.”
Turns out you didn’t need to do anything to turn your arrogant boss into cock hungry slut. He already was one, all you needed to do was drop your pants. The boss had a reputation for ‘guiding’ the young new interns.
“You’d do anything for that promotion eh?” 
“Don’t worry, I’ll use a condom…not.”
“Told ya I used a condom… never said it had to stay on.”  
“You don’t need to be ashamed here son, the team locker room should be a place you can be to feel free. Now why don’t you drop that towel.”
Your pledge night task tonight determines if you’re sorted into either the cock hungry frat or join the Alpha stud brotherhood.
“What do you say, partner? Want to make this stakeout a little more lively?”
Doctor Smith was great for house visits, he always had the best remedy for your morning afflictions
Coach always loves when he gets progression pics from his athletes. This wasn’t any exception
“ALRIGHT MEN! Listen up. We’ve got new management. As you know the company has been bought by a larger global conglomerate, and with this will come some changes. First! Uniforms. Please look at Brent over here as our example. Secondly, following the new uniform policies all employees will be sorted into new jobs and assignments.”
When your neighbours asked if you could look after their sick son for the day you were happy to oblige. You knew just what the patient.slut needed.
“Come now Mr.Carson. Your rich parents are paying for you to raise your grades from these extra lessons. The least you could do is read some of the book while you’re down there.”
“Hey dude, could you help me? Think anyone will notice I’m freeballin today?”
You were so glad when your mother suggested that the family hire a pool boy for the summer, she just didn’t know how much fun the pool would bring you.
Those clothes, that mirror, the phone, that school bag. Looks like mister popular quarterback had a few secrets of his own. What would he think once he knew that he has been lusting after his teacher’s tasty cock for the last week. Only one way to find out, Friday night’s game couldn’t come quick enough.
“So I heard that you gay guys make the best cock suckers. Since we’re going to be roommates this year why don’t we start off things right and see if that myth is true or not.”
“This is how you nail a job interview”
“I told you before, boy, if you fail at that competition, there will be consequences. And don’t think you’ll be finished once Principal Martin is done. The entirety of the staff and school board are next.”
“Where do you think you’re going slut, you don’t get to hide. I want you looking into these cameras, we’re going to make sure you really make an impression with those scholarship reviewers.”
“Remember, you might be the straight married conservative senator now but, you’ll always be that little cop cock slut.”
“Working from home is great, all your own food, your own music and your very own cock sucker during meetings.” 
“Step one - tell your straight guy friends that gay guys do it better.   Step two - work them up until their so horny they’re dumb and curious Step three - Reap all the hard cocks.”
“Time to get dressed for work as the office sissy. Fitted shirt, nice tie and my tiny thong. Check.”
“Hey Fag, my food’s here, you know what that means! Time for you to enjoy your meal of my cock. On your knees while I eat bitch.”
Coach started giving us these specialised protein blends for our workouts. Now my ass is too big for my pants.
“You want to be on the team fag? We’ve got the perfect position for you, now open up. You’re going to be our new ball boy.”
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is there a chance for a socially anxious introvert person like me to be actively involved in humanities/volunteer/etc events that basically focuses on helping others? i don't know if it's just in my country or if this is universal, but every time i tried to join such events, i always have a shitty time because it feels like everyone else is proactive and sociable and good at comforting people, while i'm bad at those? i have tried changing myself but it doesn't work? i'm better at one-on-one helping but also it kinda depends? i don't know if i'm wording this right, but basically in my place humanities seem to be reserved to extroverts so i always feel like i don't belong. but i do want to! i've always wanted to help in the causes i care for, and my time in online communities that focus on those tend to feel nice, but i kinda want to do work in real life too... it's just my personality and social anxiety really hinders me from doing what gives me joy. people always say to just pick a non-social field where my personality will thrive, like tech stuff, but like... why is it that those fields are reserved for those super sociable people only? are shy introverts not allowed to help in a way that don't make them uncomfortable?
Hi anon,
I think it is possible to find a volunteer position or job that isn't too socially demanding for you. That being said, I'm not entirely sure what that might be.
My ideas are maybe a homeless or domestic violence shelter where you can donate items, as you probably would only talk to the person in charge of those facilities when you drop the supplies off. You could also make care packages for the homeless, and maybe have someone else hand them out, unless you think this would be a one-on-one situation you could handle. You could also maybe donate to a local food pantry
These are just some ideas. If anyone else has any other suggestions please feel free to add on. Ultimately, please know that there's nothing to be ashamed of if you're not as extroverted as those around you. You can still be an important part of human services. What matters most is that you want to help.
I hope I could help and please let us know if you need anything.
-Bun
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erodasfishtacos · 3 years ago
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Crackin’ the Code
prompt: Harry and YN tie the knot in a beautiful castle off the coat of Italy. Harry reflects back on his life before his love. YN has past insecurities creep on on her before the wedding. 
note: this is the necklace that YN receives as (one) her wedding gifts from H and she wears it during the ceremony.
word count: 9k
warnings: smut
***<-- click for visuals throughout (super important for this one shot!)
if you enjoy this fic (which i worked REALLY hard on) please reblog, like, comment, and come talk to me!
please please considering donating to my kofi since all my work is FREE to you guys!
---
The world expected an extravagant wedding with week-long festivities, celebrations in destinations only the richest could afford, and all the big names of the business world who ran in his circle.
The media outlets were just waiting, quite impatiently, for the day that the richest man in Europe settled down with a significant other. They would have news stories for decades when it came to the couple.
Of course, Harry Styles was going to marry a household name - the public thought. 
Whether it be an heiress, a model, maybe even an actress? The choices for the most eligible bachelor were limitless.
Any time he was at an event, usually a charity gala or black-tie dinner, paparazzi would take candid pictures of him with any female and then the following day publish an article about how they were a couple.
However, what the world didn’t know was that he’s been in a relationship for a year and a half, has already been engaged after the eight month mark, and moved into pretty soon after but that was hushed.
Nearly no one except a few key employees and family members knew about the couple. Everyone in his office building in the heart of London had to sign NDA’s at the beginning of their job - though almost all of them didn’t know she existed.
Harry did not put any limits on YN for the wedding planning. 
No price, no expectations, nothing. If she wanted ten-thousand people or zero people in attendance that was her call. If she wanted to drop ten million dollars on a wedding or a hundred that was fine too.
The CEO never fantasized about a wedding. 
Well he had but no in the terms most do. He didn’t sit and imagine the venue, the food menu, or the decorations. 
No, he didn’t care about any of that, he daydreamed about the fact that he and someone would commit themselves to each other for the rest of their lives.
Harry wanted to marry his fiance after their first date.
He was usually a very patient man, couldn’t have gotten where he was if he wasn’t. When it came to this, each day he wasn’t married to the love of his life felt like torture.
Since he proposed to her in his briefs in their bedroom, he had imagined her looking immaculate in whatever she chose to wear, exchanging vows of devotion, and then being tied together for life.
He never thought he would get here. He’d never felt a connection with someone like he had with the feisty waitress who bumped into him. Begin to believe that he was broken or lacking emotion because no matter how sweet the girl was he couldn’t see himself with the person.
Don’t get him wrong. 
He took many women out on dates that were downright awful. Asking him about money, suggesting he take them on expensive vacations or buy them a designer item, being too forward and palming his crotch in the middle of dinner.
One of the last dates he went on before he gave up was the one that made him stop looking all together, about six months before he ran in YN.
---
It was an expensive restaurant in the heart of London. It had a waitlist for months but one call and they could magically make an available booth for the billionaire within the hour. 
The girl he was sitting across from was a so-to-speak blind date. 
A set up by one of his business partners who stated that they would be a good match. Harry had rolled his eyes at that but couldn’t come up with an excuse fast enough to say ‘no.’
Her name was Aria, she had a respectable job at a local law firm as an assistant to a very well-known lawyer in the area. 
She was beautiful in the way of looking just like an instagram model with long dark extensions, false eyelashes that made it hard to determine what color her eyes were, and an outfit that made Harry a bit embarrassed to be seen with her - short and low cut at a five-star restaurant.
“Yeah, I just got back from Mallorca with a group of friends,” She tells him, flipping through the photo album on her phone to show him pictures. 
When she ‘accidentally’ swipes (and slowly swipes) again so that Harry definitely gets a glimpse of a nude selfie.
Harry internally groans, couldn’t be less turned on by that, and doesn’t acknowledge it - much to Aria's disappointment. 
She was fishing for a compliment, maybe a request for him to take the phone and look closer at the picture like most men would.
Instead he sits back, takes a sip of his wine, and nods curtly, “It looks like you had a good time.”
She stumbles for a second, confused by his sudden standoffishness, and clicks her phone locked before putting it next to her on the table, “Did I offend you?”
He was already done with the date, with the dating scene, with fucking everything honestly. 
What a goddamn waste of a night.
Harry barks out a cruel laugh, “It takes a lot more to offend me than a picture of y’tits but it’s a bit offensive that y’think so little of yourself that you think that’s how y’going to impress me. Those tits didn’t impress me much, darling.”
Aria’s eyes narrow in blatant disbelief at how much of an asshole he was being. 
Granted, she did feel a bit of embarrassment creeping up in her stomach about thinking showing him that picture was a good idea but still, he didn’t need to react like that.
“It really makes sense why you don’t have a girlfriend, it’s because of what an asshole you are,” The girl sneers with venom as she tucks her phone into her clutch, swigging down the last drops of the expensive wine.
He shrugs like he’s unbothered, a nasty feeling quilling in the pit of his stomach as he keeps an outward expression of nonchalance and ease, it make the raven-haired woman even more furious as he replies cooly, “I’m not being an asshole, honesty hurts sometimes. Maybe if you think the way you attract someone is by nude pictures, you should try Tinder or Bumble.”
“I hope you have fun living the rest of your life alone. You may have your money but you’re going to end up alone and it will be all you fucking have,” Aria tells him before pushing out her chair and leaving before the main course even arrives. 
Harry sits there for a moment, swallowing and pleading with himself to not let the nasty words set in because they felt too real and too personal - she had actually struck some type of chord within and it had his stomach churning.
When he pays the bill, apologizing profusely for leaving dinner before the entree arrives but with an excuse of a company emergency - it’s eerily quiet in his car as he drives home to his massive home with no one in it.
It doesn’t happen often. 
He should call his mum, Gemma, Dorothy even to talk it out but he feels so fucking alone because he can’t get it right. He can’t connect with anyone and it is starting to feel hopeless.
He is angry, so angry at himself, that he can’t shake the feeling of it and he feels like he’s losing control because he never fucking talks about his emotions.
A beautiful set of dishware was sitting out his dining room table, the housekeeper had carefully unwrapped them earlier in the day. 
They were imported from Beijing, decorated with real gold, and handcrafted. It had cost him nearly forty-thousand dollars for a set of fucking plates and bowls.
I hope you have fun living the rest of your life alone. You may have your money but you’re going to end up alone and it will be all you fucking have.
It is repeatedly on a loop in his head, glares at the items on the dinner table like they’re mocking him, and he has no wits about himself before he’s taking one of the beautiful bowls and throwing it against the wall as hard as possible.
I hope you have fun living the rest of your life alone. You may have your money but you’re going to end up alone and it will be all you fucking have.
By the time he’s done, his chest is heaving, and his face is red. 
When reality starts to set back in, every single item from the set is destroyed on the floor, the wall’s paint chipped from where he’d hurled them.
He was so fucked up.
-
Harry couldn’t help but relieve the feelings of that nasty flashback. He couldn’t believe that he had been at that point in his life - not when he had the most all-consuming, amazing in every single way woman laying next to him in his bed.
YN had shown Harry that he had never been broken, he had just been waiting. 
She was his soulmate and he had been waiting for her since forever. He truly believed that as he looked at the girl next to him with enough emotion his heart might burst.
She was just...everything.
YN was so fucking funny - the funniest person Harry had ever met. She was loving in a way that made you feel like you belonged. Compassionate in a way that makes you want to be more selfless yourself. Intelligent enough that it was breathtaking and unreal - and that was just the tip of the iceberg.
She was uncaring of who Harry was - in the most perfect way. 
Money wasn’t a personality trait that she defined him with. She loved him for who he was at the bare basics, stripped away from his public life.
She was confident in a way that girls rarely were. 
Bared face and more beautiful than the highest-paid models. 
Her body was her own, embracing every curve and inch of it without any shame. Let herself be authentic in front of Harry which made him feel like he had won a secret lottery.
Right now, she was fast asleep next to him in bed after stuffing herself full of oreos that she was dunking in milk. She ignored Harry’s looks of disgust at the soggy cookies and munched away happily which made him happy in turn.
She still had a dark crumb on the corner of her puffy lips, her mouth parted just the slightest amount, and her face smushed halfway into the pillow. 
The shirt she had on was so oversized she was swimming in it and a pair of soft pink cheeky underwear.
Currently, she was the farthest thing from graceful and Harry loved that so fucking much. 
As they lay mere days away from their wedding, remembering that nasty flashback, he can’t help but remember their first date and how he had known from them that he had finally found a spark, a connection to another human being.
--
Harry cannot remember the last time he had been nervous. 
Maybe back in his teenage years? If that. 
It was an unsettling feeling that was currently pooling in the pit of his stomach as he changed his outfit for the third time before finally being somewhat satisfied with the suit he had picked out - tighter black jeans, black button-up, black blazer - couldn’t go wrong there. ***
YN had texted him asking what she should wear for their first date when Harry told her he was going to keep it simple and take her to a restaurant.
He had to dress nice, it was an expensive restaurant that he had not taken any other dates to before, it was right outside of London - going towards the countryside with a beautiful view of a meadow and stream.
When he had arrived in front of her apartment, well he had never been on this side of town, and it quite frankly looked like the roof of her building was about to collapse at any minute. It was rough to say the least.
Harry had picked out a car he thought would impress her. He remembered her saying the doors of his Lamborghini were stupid so he picked a car with normal doors this time. It was his new Audi Quattro that had cost him upwards of 170,000 pounds. ***
YN had popped out of the front door, her face didn’t read impressed when she saw the car like he had hoped. It was interesting before YN, he did not care whether or not his dates were impressed by him - now he craved it.
She looked extraordinary in a form fitting silky black dress that hugged every single curve of her body perfectly while accentuating them at the same time. Minimal makeup, loose waves, and simple high heels - it was like a dream that he was taking this girl out on a date. ***
When she slips into the passenger seat, the smell of her floral yet cinnamon perfume makes the car smell heavenly, she looks over at him and says, “You didn’t even come open the door for me. We’re off to a bad start, Harry.”
His heart sinks, fuck - he had been blindsided by her beauty that he wasn’t even being a proper gentleman, “M’so sorry, I wa-”
She chirps out a tender laugh, patting his arm, “You’re face, oh my god. I was just fucking with you.”
Harry’s frown turns into a pout, “S’not nice, pet.”
YN shrugs before a bit self-consciously adjusting the fabric around her midsection, “Erm, I hope this outfit is nice enough? It’s really the only semi-decent thing I own.”
He shakes his head in disbelief, “Y’look absolutely stunning. I can’t even believe y’real to be honest, so fuckin’ pretty.”
YN gives him a shy, unsure smile but he can tell she’s preening at the compliment internally (which she totally is).
The restaurant is one of the nicest in England, let alone London. 
There wasn’t even a menu, they just served eight courses over a few hours time by servers in suits with bowties on. 
YN had never felt more out of place.
As they sat down, Harry was proud that he was able to show off his abilities for a good date, YN was looking around nervously before looking up at the server and saying, “We didn’t get menus yet.”
The man gives her a humorous expression before telling her, “We don’t do menus here, miss. Your date is a regular, I am sure he can fill you in. However, we are starting off with a Cabernet from 2001 imported from Napa, California.”
As he pours the wine into their sparkling glasses, she asks unknowingly, “I don’t really like wine. Is there any way I could get a Coke?”
Harry frowns when the server laughs meanly at her, “Ma’am this isn’t McDonald’s. We do not carry soda. I can provide you with water, if you so wish.”
Harry can’t help but snap at the waiter, “Oi, she’s never been here before. Lay off with the attitude alright?”
“My apologies, Mr. Styles,” He murmurs obediently before finishing the pouring off the whine and retreating from the table.
YN is trying to hide how uncomfortable she is but it is still obvious with how she fidgets in her seat, doesn’t quite know what to do with her hands as she doesn’t even bother to reach towards the wine glass.
“This isn’t really your scene, is it?” Harry murmurs, embarrassment with his failure to impress her with an expensive car and dinner. 
It was falling flat and it was the only thing he knew how to do - flaunt his wealth, everyone else had always been impressed.
“No, it isn’t,” She agrees quietly, fingers folding the edges of the cloth napkin to keep her anxiousness directed somewhere, “I appreciate this, er, dinner. I thought we were going to go somewhere like Mary’s.”
Mary’s was a restaurant that was considered ‘nice’ to the commoners in the city. It was a bit more expensive than a pub and the attire was a bit fancier than if you were going out to a bar. 
For someone like Harry, that was not considered a fancy restaurant. 
However, YN was not him and this was not something that she had ever been accustomed to. He now definitely felt like an idiot.
It’s made even worse when a massive plate is put in front of each of them. 
The plate is huge but the dish is merely one scallop with a lemon sauce and sprinkle of parsley on top. YN can’t even try to hide her confusion at the food.
 “I’ve mucked this date up,” Harry sighs, nearly thirty minutes into the actual date. 
YN had taken a small bite of the scallop before setting down her fork and not touching it again - it tasted like dirty feet. Did rich people like that taste?
She decides not to answer directly, “I already know you have money. It doesn’t ‘wow’ me. I was hoping for a fun date, this is….nice but quite truthfully, not for me. I prefer a pub or bowling - this feels more like a business meeting.”
Harry usually doesn’t have dates that are this honest with him. 
He feels embarrassed but he really did appreciate her honesty. He should have known to do something different than this but he was comfortable with his normal pattern.
“Can we get out of here?” YN asks, placing the napkin back on the table and gathering up her small purse to swing over her shoulder.
He feels defeated as he nods, paying for the meal in full as he accepts that he’s fucked up the date beyond repair by being an arrogant, ignorant asshole who doesn’t truly know how to talk to a girl he likes.
It’s quiet as he starts the car and pulls back onto the road, he startles a bit when YN points to a glowing sign of a golden arch and demands, “Go there.”
With a bit of confusion, Harry pulls into the McDonald’s parking lot and then to the drive-thru as she motions for him to do so. 
God, he hasn’t been to a fast food joint in years now if he was being honest.
When they pull up to the screen, YN leans across and shoots out their food order with ease before sitting back with a smug smile, “We’re going to have a date my way.”
Harry sighs with relief when he realizes the date isn’t over - but really just beginning. They sit and chat in the parking lot. He is thoroughly impressed when YN manages a box of nuggets, a fry, and a milkshake without shame.
Not like she should be shameful - just usually on dates women were hesitant to actually eat and instead picked carefully at their food instead. Their conversation in the car is bright, at some points deep and meaningful, but refreshing. It made him feel young again.
After they finished eating, she’s ordering him to drive a bit further out into the country where he can’t help but make the joke, “Are y’taking me somewhere to kill me?” YN smiles happily with a wide grin, “You’ll just have to wait to see.”
It ends up being a lake. A beautiful body of water that was surrounded by trees that were being reflected into the ripples with the light of the moon. The only sounds were of crickets chirping and the light lapping of the water against the small shore. ***
“I used to come here a lot in the summer in high school,” YN murmurs as Harry takes in the scenery of everything. It had been so long since he had appreciated nature - not the bright clear waters in the tropics but something like this.
“S’beautiful,” Harry replies, can’t help but observe this girl he’s infatuated beauty in the moonlight. 
Her skin looks like it’s glowing, the moon sparkling off the twinkle of her iries, and she just looked...ethereal. Like she belonged in the beauty of the wilderness.
He couldn’t believe his eyes - had to blink harshly a few times to make sure he’s not imagining it when she pulls the thin straps of her dress down her shoulders and shimmy the garment down her body until she’s left in a delicate lace bra and cheeky pair of underwear.
Harry, always the gentleman, keeps his eyes (with effort) on her face. Unsure of what is going on in her mind before she turns around with a little run and dives headfirst into the deep waters before popping back up and giggling, “Jump in!”
She’s just so...carefree, adventurous. Harry hadn’t felt free in fucking years.
It has him shucking out of all of his clothing, just down to his tight black briefs before he’s diving in, right next to her, and feeling around. He wraps his hand around her ankle to teasingly tug her under with him before they both surface.
As they wad in the water, YN swims over to him, and wraps her legs around his waist, arms around his neck. Her soaking wet hair was dripping and he was breathing heavy, feeling his ribcage expand against her soft tummy.
She murmurs quietly over the light lapping over the water, “You haven’t even looked at me once.”
Harry swallows, feeling like a schoolboy again, “I...I didn’t want to without permission.”
“I want you to look at me,” YN replies, letting her nose nudge his and her eyes searching into his nervous ones. 
He nods, closing his eyes when he feels her lips brush his, letting his large palms grip at her sides and pull her closer to his chest. Their lips not breaking when his hands begin to explore the intricate, plush curves of her body.
They don’t do anything else, don’t go any further but he groaning when she traces her fingertips down his muscular, defined abs and thumb rubbing over the trail of light hair leading into his briefs.
After a swim, filled with splashing and dunking, they retired to lay in the grass. Both of their backs, looking up at the clear night sky, moon full and stars glittering against the stark darkness that surrounds it.
YN wriggle until she’s tucked into his side, hand running up and down his chest, as she says, “I’m sorry your date didn’t go as planned. I ruined it.”
“Y’didn’t ruin anything. I...I haven’t felt like this in a long time,” Harry admits as he gives off an embarrassed laugh, “I..I’m a little bit scared, to be honest.”
“Scared? Of what?” YN asks, lips pressing against a tattoo on his bare shoulder.
“Because I already am falling for you,” Harry utters, heart racing and his eyes glued upwards and pointedly not wanting to see her interaction.
“That’s a relief.”
His eyebrows shoot up, “A relief?”
“Yeah, I would say. I’m falling too,” YN whispers before leaning up to connect their lips once more as the moon rises further in the sky and the crickets sing a little louder. They lay like that for a very long time.
Harry went home that night for the first time not feeling the empty weight of his loneliness, instead he feel asleep imagining the beautiful, spontaneous girl next to him in his bed.
--
It wasn’t going to be the wedding everyone expected for The Harry Styles. **
There was not many invites set out for this event. It wasn’t the wedding of the century or the most expensive wedding of the decade.
Harry would have let his wife-to-be have this day however she wanted without complaint but could say he was very happy that it was going to a be a low-key event. It was going to be some of YN’s family, though she didn’t have much, and Harry’s extended family. No one from work or business. Just family.
They had just gotten finished with the rehearsal dinner, the couple being ordered to separate rooms for the final night before they were married. It was tradition. 
Harry had walked YN to her hotel room, they were staying at the venue, and pressed her up against the door. His hand coming to weave into her meticulously curled hair and cupping the back of her head, bring her mouth to his.
He wastes no time in letting his tongue find hers, hips coming to press her further back against the aged wood, and his teeth nipping roughly at her plump bottom lip, “Baby, y’gonna be m’wife tomorrow.”
YN’s eyes twinkle up at him like they did during their first date, “I can’t wait. I can’t wait to spend forever with you.”
His fiance laughs kindly as he gets a bit watery eyed, her thumb coming to swipe under his eye, she jokes, “Are you regretting proposing now?”
“Just never knew I could be this happy,” He murmurs against her lips, can’t help but reach around to grip a generous amount of her backside and pulling her flush against him where he’s hardening quickly.
“Mm, down boy. You don’t get the goods until tomorrow,” YN scolds, hand wrapping around his wrist and squeaking when he squeezes harder to get the point across - how much he wants her, all the fucking time.
“Want it now, pet,” Harry whines lowly, grinding his hips forward into her, “Give it t’me, y’mouth, y’cun-”
“Alright lovebirds! Separate now!” Gemma barks to interrupt with the laughter of their childhood friend Chloe.
They pull Harry by the back of the shirt and push him forward towards his room, Gemma smiles back at YN, “Make him put a ring on it before you give it to him!”
“Gem!” Harry scolds with a whine, giving his fiance puppy dog eyes and a pouted bottom lip, “Baby, don’t let them take me!”
“I’ll see you tomorrow, I love you!” YN shouts back, waving and smiling to herself as she opens up the door to her room and then locking it after she steps in. It feels weird being in a hotel room without him but she was a bit sweaty and her nerves were wiry so she decided a nice bath would be a good idea.
-
It’s past two in the morning and she was no less ready to find sleep. The worries of whether everything will be set up properly, if she’ll stutter during her vows, there were just so many things that could go wrong.
Life didn’t even seem real at this moment. 
She was marrying her husband at an amazing castle on the coast of italy with family to surround them in love. She had the perfect dress, the perfect flowers, the perfect partner. ***
She had never had it easy. Never thought she would deserve something like this. Harry had made her feel worthy of all this, they deserved to have a happy ever after. 
When it hits three in the morning, she can’t stand the quiet of the italian countryside anymore, and is swinging her legs over the bed. She pockets the keycard Harry gave her earlier in the day in her cotton shorts before sneaking out of her room.
After she taps the card to the sensor, the large oak doorknob clicks, she slips in and closes the door as silently as possible. YN steps in to the room, Harry's asleep in his bed on his stomach, face smushed into the pillow.
Harry’s facial expression and body language while he was awake was so severe, serious, intimidating. In sleep, his face was lax and his limbs loose. He looked more boyish when he was dreaming.
YN’s heart aches at how much she loves him, pulling the covers up, and crawling under them until she’s jostling him unintentionally, waking him from his light sleep with a mumble, “Baby, y’okay? Wha’s wrong? Y’alright?”
She giggles at his dazy panic, “I just missed you.”
“Mmm,” Harry agrees, pulling her all the way down and rolling on top of her, “Missed y’more.”
“You’re like a toaster!” YN squeals as he’s encompasses her, laying on her with his weight. His lips finding her pulse point and gently sucking. He was barely awake and he still couldn’t stop himself from her finding comfort in her body.
“I’m warmin’ y’up,” Harry growls against her neck before giving her a lick which has her giggling even more and pushing him off until he falls on his back and she’s swing her legs over his waist, straddling him.
“Y’breakin’ the tradition, m’heart.”
YN shrugs, humming while he palms at her belly, and she (much to his disappointment) ignores where he’s hard and waiting for her.
“I want t’sleep with you,” She pleas sheepishly, leaning all the way over to connect their lips in a quickie peck before she’s moving off of him and into his side.
“Never say no to you, y’know that, dovie,” Harry replies as if it’s obvious (it is).
“We’re getting married tomorrow,” YN whispers into the dark, like it’s a secret just between the two.
Harry nuzzles his nose against her temple, “Never wanted anythin’ more than I want you.”
YN can’t help but sniffle softly, overwhelmed with emotion and love, “You’re so good to me. I don’t deserve you.”
“You saved me. You saved me from myself, from where I was going. You gave me hope, feeling again. Y’are m’heart, it fuckin’ beats for you.”
It may not be tradition but YN wouldn’t of had it any other way, sleeping in a magnificent castle on the ethereal coast of Italy in a classic hotel room, and the excitement of their wedding rumbling in both of their stomachs.
--
“You sneaky bastards!” Bethany screeches, door flinging open with Gemma in tow as they intrude into Harry’s room - finding the couple curled up under the covers with Harry spooning YN with his face tucked into her hair.
“Fuck off,” Harry groans, pulling his fiance closer into his chest as she wriggles awake and whimpers lowly, “Mornin’ lovie.”
“Out out!” Gemma shoos, pulling the covers off of them and the sisters showing no mercy while they yank YN out of the bed and titter about how she needs to start getting ready, no time for cuddles, breaking traditions.
“Bring her back!” He whines childishly, hurling a pillow at his sister’s retreating back as they guide YN back to her own room.
“You’ll see her in a few hours!” Gemma shouts back before slamming the hotel room door and leaving Harry to doze off for just a few more minutes.
-
Hair and makeup went fast. 
It was getting closer and closer to actually walking down the aisle towards her soon-to-be life partner and she’s never felt more nervous.
Rosemary and Bethany were all rushing around - attempting to get ready in the midst of getting the bride ready.
YN didn’t want to look like a doll or have any intense makeup. It was a soft champagne smokey eye with dewy skin and a glowing highlight. A nice lip with a bit of glittering gloss.
Her hair was in big, loose curls that cascaded down her back with the front pulled off of her face. A real white flower holding it back.
Then it was the dress. She was anxious about whether Harry would like it or not. She wasn’t sure what he was expecting her to wear - a massive ball gown, a form-fitting mermaid, or something less over-the-top?
It was a show-stopper that had her memorized when she had first seen it - could automatically imagined herself getting married in Italy with this on her body.
It was also one of the only times she didn’t even care about the price tag - she knew this was it. Yes, it was absurd to spend fifty thousand pounds on a dress but it was the one time she took advantage of Harry’s wealth.
It was flowy, reminding her of the soft waves that lapped at the coast of the italian beaches. It was sophisticated, classy with a sharp starch white that billowed into a dreamlike beauty.
What had made her fall in love was the sheer, detailed sleeves that gave the dress more of a vintage, glamour appearance than the modern tight-fit, overly sexy gowns that most brides wore nowawadays. ***
The train was long and sleek. It would trail beautifully down the aisle before being bustled for the reception. It made her feel confident in a way that an item of clothing next had made her feel before.
“Your tits look amazing,” Bethany compliments before giggling when their grandmum pinches her arm for her crude language.
YN couldn’t find it in her to laugh. She felt like her voice was stuck in her throat and it wasn’t moving. 
It started to feel real.
The fact that Harry had proposed, had planned a wedding with her, that he was agreeing to marrying her today.
It was starting to scare her - no, not cold feet but anxiety that he would realize that he could do better than the lowly waitress.
Now, on a normal day, she wouldn’t be having these irrational thoughts. Today was different and it felt too good to be true.
Rosemary and Bethany sense the tension in the room, rub her shoulders, and respect her wishes when she asked for a moment alone.
YN debates picking up her phone, knowing he was busy with his bigger side of the family in the groom’s suite.
She finds herself picking up her mobile, dialing his number, and waiting with bated breath for his syrupy, warm voice to pour through the speaker.
“Everythin’ okay?” He answers, she can hear Anne and Gemma tittering about in the background, yelling at him to get a move on.
“I’m scared,” YN whispers, she holds back her tears because the last thing she wanted to do was ruin her meticulous makeup.
“Leavin’ me at the altar?” Harry jokes lowly, stepping away from prying ears.
YN giggles at his teasing tone, “Never. I…I feel like this is all too good to be true. Like it’s a dream and I’m going to wake up.”
Harry huffs, “Sweetheart. Y’my soulmate, if y’wake up - I’m right there with you, okay? God, if anyone is dreamin’ it’s me. I get t’marry the most beautiful, intelligent -“
Gemma’s voice interrupts him, “You already seduced her into marrying you! We don’t have time for this sweet talk!”
The line goes dead but YN feels much better now.
Rosemary was going to be the one walking her down the aisle to her new husband. It didn’t feel right to have anyone else do it as she was the one who raised her into the strong, independent woman she was today.
YN knew she wanted to have an outside wedding. 
What would be more perfect than a cool evening in Italy? It was what she had dreamed about since she was little without the idea that it would ever happen.
The weather was absolutely perfect. There was a slight warm breeze that would keep the guests from being overheated, the sun was peeking in and out of vibrant white clouds that complimented the blue sky.
She knew exactly where Harry would be standing. 
Underneath a beautiful, dated archway with intricate designs about. 
The old material had lovingly grown luscious ivy that kissed the walls in a swirling, natural design. 
YN would never forget how beautiful that ivy had looked on her wedding day, encompassing the magnificent that was her soon-to-be husband.***
The venue was open, airy but still gave off an intimacy. There weren't many rows of chairs because not many were invited to share in such an ethereal experience where soulmates have found each other and were announcing their commitment to the world.
“Are you ready, my daughter?” Her grandmother had asked quietly as they lined up behind the expansive, old brick wall that hides them from the rest of the ceremony and crowd. She could hear the whispering as people took their seats.
YN nods, her vocal cords refusing to cooperate as she imagines Harry just as nervous on the opposite side with his family. 
When the twinkling, traditional music begins from the small orchestra off to the side - the realization hits her - it is actually happening, right now.
Bethany puts her bouquet in front of her, giving one last meaningful smile at her sister before she takes her cue to turn the corner and begins her walk down the aisle. 
It meant Harry was up there, watching as she was about to appear.
Then the orchestra’s melody became louder, more grand in the signaling for the guests to stand and turned toward the back of the room - awaiting the bride’s entrance to the ceremony. 
Rosemary takes the initiative to hook their arms and guide her past the wall.
YN clutches onto her own flowers as if it’s her lifeline. ***
Every fear, insecurity, moment of self-doubt dissipates when her eyes connect to Harry’s. There is no longer a doubt in her mind that she wasn’t enough. It was a deep, unbreakable stare as Harry’s mouth parts in a gasp of awe.
He was in a suit that was undeniably him. It displayed how fucking regal he was, how it looked like he was handcrafted into the italian design, how it fit him just perfectly.
It wasn’t a normal tuxedo. It was a perfectly tailored, custom (of course) Gucci suit that excentuate his broad shoulders and the nip of his narrow hips *** ***. 
YN can’t even hear the noise of the guests - whispering about how beautiful she looks.
All she can see is her future husband, who swallows harshly as an unexpected sob wracks through his chest at the sight of his bride.
The guests can’t help but look with wide eyes as the man they know - who they’ve barely ever seen smile, let alone cry, cannot control his emotions.
Gemma, who was his ‘best man’ which they deemed ‘best woman’, rubs his back soothingly with a watery smile herself at seeing her brother so estastatic as he looks at the woman of his dreams.
Harry rubs his eyes before meeting hers again.
YN is holding back her own tears as she reaches the end of the aisle.
In tradition as old as time, Harry steps forward and Rosemary passes her hand over to him in a signal that she trusts him to take care of the girl she’s spent meticulous time raising and cultivating into the person she is today.
“I trust you to take care of my girl, she is now yours,” Rosemary tells Harry, her tone is calm and full of emotion as she allows Harry to lean over to kiss her cheek softly.
Harry nods, his usually stable voice shaky as he replies, “I promise, I’ll take care of her until the day I die.”
Rosemary nods before patting his cheek and finding her seat in the audience.
When they are finally standing face-to-face, YN reaches over to thumb off a stray tear that was sliding down his cheek before he turns his head to kiss her thumb then kissing her palm. 
Harry didn’t even acknowledge that there was anyone else watching - it was just him and her.
“Y’look breathtaking, can’t believe y’mine,” Harry murmurs trembling, his chest moving faster than usual and it felt like it was nearly impossible for him to catch his breath as he looked at the woman in front of him.
When it comes to the vows, Bethany hands over her small piece of paper that she had scribbled onto and scratched out multiple times - never quite able to get the wording just right and she says just that.
“I couldn’t find the right words to explain my love for you,” She starts, voice raspy as she looks up to see Harry watching her raptly, eyes intense and only focused on her.
“And maybe there aren’t even words to explain it because nothing felt like enough. It is how I feel a lot of the time with you. I’ll never have enough of you because you’re all-consuming to me. I have never felt happiness like I have with you.”
YN is trying to stifle her tears as she continues, Harry reaches out to rub her arm in reassurance then he lightly brushes over the new necklace he had gifted her, “You’re by far the most complex, closed-off person I have ever met. I feel like you’ve allowed me to crack the code and once I did, I wasn’t disappointed. I’ve cracked my own code, you see.”
“The code to explaining my feelings for you will come with my dedication, love, loyalty to be your wife for the rest of our lives.”
Harry can’t help what he does next despite it not falling in line at the ceremony.
His hands come up to cup her jaw and he sears his lips to hers, kissing her with all the passion and emotion he cannot seem to keep in any longer. It’s too much, has to show her in that moment how much he loves her.
A few of his uncles whistle from the crowd as their wives smack their chests in warning.
YN giggles, returning the kiss before pushing him off. 
The look in his eyes is one she knows extremely well - it sends shivers down her spine and makes her hair stand on end -, the stare down of lust and want.
“Mr. Styles,” The officiant redirects, nodding towards the piece of paper he has in his hand.
“Yeah, sorry,” Harry mumbles, unraveling the wrinkled notecard he had tucked in his inner suit pocket.
“I knew I was in love with you the moment you spilled that drink on me and undressed me in that dodgy employee bathroom,” Harry says with full sincerity, smirking at YN’s blush when he brings up the way they met.
“I tried to talk myself out of it. It was impossible to fall in love in mere minutes of meeting someone but it was the truth. I knew after our first date that I wanted y’to be m’wife. I knew after the second that I wanted y’to be the mother of my babies one day. And by the third date, I was planning on buying you a ring.”
“It sounds insane because it is. I’ve never been an impulsive, spur-of-the-moment, hopeful person before you. You made me throw all that out of the window, you make me feel alive, and when I tell you that you saved me. You saved me, m’love.”
“There is a lot of uncertainty in this world but I can tell you one thing that is absolutely fuckin’ certain -”
“Harry,” YN hisses with an eye-roll at his crude language.
“The one thing that is absolutely certain in this world is that I will always love you, always take care of you, and always do everythin’ in m’power to make you happy.”
The guests in the chairs are quite speechless. 
They’d never heard such passionate, meaningful vows from a couple. 
This was not what they were expecting of Harry who had never once put his heart on his sleeve and right now he’d laid it all out on the table.
--
“YN LN, do you agree to take Harry Edward Styles as your husband? To have and to hold, in sickness and in health, for better or for worse, until the end of your time on earth?” The officiant asks, voice ringing against the walls of the castle.
YN has to take a big breath before she replies in a strong, firm voice as her eyes bore into Harry’s, “I do.”
“Harry Edward Styles, do you agree to take YN MN LN as your wife? To have and to hold, in sickness and in health, for better or for worse, until the end of your time on earth?” The officiant repeats.
Harry, in ever typical fashion, in his loud, booming voice replies, “Of course I fuckin’ do.”
The guests in the audience laugh lightly as the officiant states, “I now announce to you, Mr. and Mrs. Styles. You may now kiss your bride.”
It doesn’t take more than a second for Harry to step forward, grip her face and pull her in for a kiss, it doesn’t matter that their family is there to him as he licks into her mouth which is bordering on obscene before YN brings it back to a softer, more appropriate one.
He whispers against his lips, barely audible, “Can’t believe y’my fucking wife, m’fucking heart.”
--
As people are moving towards the reception area, Harry manages to find a secluded area of the outside gardens where there is no one in sight.
“Baby, baby, y’married me,” Harry is nearly chanting, like he’s in disbelief, at the same time he’s cornering his new bride up against the brick wall with his mouth trailing sloppy wet kisses down her shoulder.
“Mmm, it was everything I ever imagined, it was so beautiful. Everything I had imagined for our day,” YN replies blissfully, hands running carefully through his meticulously styled hair.
When he bends down and lifts up the bottom of her dress, she giggles when he ducks his head underneath all the tulle and fabric, finding a very skimpy pair of white lace panties that are supposed to be saved for later.
“Harry,” YN scolds half-heartedly, it would only take one person to find them in this undeniable inappropriate situation but she willingly let him push her further against the brick and take one of her legs over his shoulder.
“Baby, these fuckin’ panties,” He groans, muffled by the barrier of the heavy fabric, and she hisses when pulls them down to the thick of her thighs and his mouths finds her center within moments.
“Fu-fuck,” She hisses, trying to keep her moans down as he wastes no time in pushing in two thick fingers to curve towards her front as his tongue laps quickly and sloppily on her clit until it feels like she’s about to explode.
“S’right, fuckin’ m’cunt. I have it f’the rest of my life, found the best one,” Harry mutters against her wet skin, almost to himself like he can’t even believe the words, before he’s back to speeding up his fingers to match the rhythm of his mouth until she’s quivering for a whole other reason now.
It takes a few minutes for Harry to calm himself down enough to be able to go into the reception, he tells YN that he can’t even look at her right now because if he does he’ll be perpetually hard throughout the whole thing.
--
The reception is more of a dinner than a party. 
Fairy lights strung above the two long tables where decadent, mouth-watering food was served with the orchestra playing light, melodic music in the background. ***
It was perfect. 
Their family drank, laughed, ate, and were merry. 
Everyone was basking in each other’s company, congratulating the new couple, and enjoying all the beauty that was surrounding them at the castle. 
There is not much more to say than that. 
--
The honeymoon suite was located on one of the highest floors of the castle, away from all of the other wedding guests and staff.
YN was sure it was beautiful but from the moment she was carried over the threshold, she didn’t see anything but her new husband - he was blinding in his beauty. His skin was glowing, a slight sheen of sweat from the reception, and the still warm bite in the breeze. ***
“Sweetheart, baby. Please let m’undress you, y’my wife,” Harry pleas softly, his hands are everywhere - her face, her shoulders, hips - continuously wandering as if it’s impossible to find one place to settle.
“Please, c’mon. I need you, H,” She agrees, letting him take down the zipper on the side of her gown.
The expensive garment discarded on the floor in a pool of fabric as he fully takes in her lingerie set. ***
“Fuck me, darlin’,” Harry chuckles in amazement, fingertips tracing over the delicate lace that was stitched by Alessandro Michele himself for the bride, "Y’body is a god damn dream, look at you. - fuck.”
“Please,” His wife whimpers, voice desperate as his light and careful touches are no longer enough. 
She needs him close, she needs her husband.
“Okay, okay,” He simpers, moving her back until he can have her right where he wants her, on her back in the middle of the massive, blanket-ridden bed - her white lingerie standing out against the dark duvet.
Harry had always imagined this night. 
To have someone laid out underneath him. 
No rush, no urgency but to truly, physically show that person through touch that you love them.
He starts near her collarbone, feathery heated kisses that warm her skin as she welcomes him with heavy weight on top of her so eager he wasn’t even undressed yet.
When his mouth finds her nipples through the sheer fabric, she pushes her chest up in encouragement as he bites at the nubs with sharp but careful teeth that wet the fabric.
“It feels so good, baby,” YN mewls, letting him nip and suck for a moment before pushing him up until he’s rid of every inch of fabric that had been covering his body.
“M’always gonna make y’feel good. I’ll fuck you wherever, wehenver cause you’re m’wife,” Harry grunts, impatiently reaching behind to unclasp the corset until her breasts spill free and jiggle in a way that makes his mouth water.
“Wait, wait,” YN puts a hand to his cheek when he already has his mouth darting out to lap at her hardened nipple.
“Don’t make me wait, m’heart,” Harry grumbles with a furrowed brow, his hand still unable to stop from reaching up to palm at her full breasts, thumbs rolling the nipples as he stares fiercely up at her.
“You know how you got me a present?” YN murmurs, biting back a whimper when a zip of electricity shoots from her nipple down to where she’s already dripping for him, “I got you something too.”
Harry’s face relaxes, it’s like he finds his grounding again, “Baby, didn’t need t’get me anythin’. Y’the best fuckin’ gift I could have gotten. Does look beautiful sittin’ between y’tits though.”
His new wife giggles, “Well I really hope you like mine….it’s non-refundable.”
He looks at her with confusion even more so when she wriggles down her panties and flips on her belly with her arms resting under chin.
Of course, Harry finds it immediately and she can tell by the deep, pleased growl he emits from the back of his throat, “You fuckin’ didn’t.”
“I did.”
It was his name, small and cursive right on her bum cheek. 
After they got engaged, he went out and got her name tattooed on his pec - much to her dismay. 
She had never talked about returning the favor and had kept it the ultimate surprise.
“I think I almost just came from this,” Harry rasps, his fingers tracing the small ink over and over in awe, “Baby, y’put m’name on your bum. It makes y’look like my property, sweetheart.”
“I am yours,” YN giggles, yelping when she feels his teeth graze the sensitive skin before he’s suckling and licking at his name - can’t take his eyes off the beauty of her.
“Yeah, you fuckin’ are,” He agrees whole-heartedly, his hands calming to cup and palm at her cheeks as he fawns over his wedding present, “This is the best present I’d ever fuckin’ received, fuck - never goin’ to get over this.”
He doesn’t want to look away from the tattoo but knows how he wants to fuck his wife for the first time so he flips her onto her back once again, lips finding hers. 
She whispers, hand wrapping around his cock, “Still have to pay you back for earlier.”
“No blowies tonight, pet. We’re goin’ to do it the right way, m’gonna make love to you,” Harry murmurs, his lips finding hers as he bats her hand away to grasp at his thick base. He teases the sensitive head over her clit and entrance a few times before slowly sinking in.
“Ohh, been ready for you all day. You looked like a fucking wet dream standing at the alter, waiting for me,” YN sighs happily, wriggling her hips to adjust a bit before she spreads her legs and lets Harry rest in between them, “Ever since I saw you in the suit, I’ve been waiting.”
“Yeah, baby? I can tell, y’so wet, warm f’me,” Harry praises, his movements are slow and unrushed, their hips meeting gently as he pushes in each time with care, “Can’t believe y’gonna let me have this for the rest of m’life.”
“I love you so so much,” She utters breathlessly as he continues to make her feel so fucking full - emotionally and physically, “Best husband ever, can’t believe it.”
Harry chuckles tenderly, “Baby, I need y’to come soon. I’m so close, never come this quick. The thought of y’being my wife is making it impossible to last then with the tatto-”
YN soothes his hair in understanding, pushing up to meet their lips and allow their tongues to dance as he lifts her thigh against his hip to thrust in with a bit more force. His thumb comes to her clit to spur her along which doesn’t take much with how aroused she’s been all day.
Harry follows right after, much to his embarrassment of his lack of stamina but can you blame him? He has the hottest fucking wife on the planet.
“Round two?” YN smirks as he leans down to pepper kisses all over her cheeks. She knows the night has just begun.
“Mmm,” He agrees instantly, “Now that we made love, m’gonna fuck y’from behind so I can watch my name jiggle on your arse.”
And that’s what he does. It takes nearly no rebound time, flips her on her belly again to gaze and worship his name as he fills out in no time again. His fingers occasionally dip back between her thighs to tease at her entrance before he swipes her own wetness on the tattoo to lick it off.
She’s tired, exhausted from the events of the day but wants to reach that last orgasm before sleep overtakes them. 
On her hands and knees, Harry doesn’t pound into her like he normally would. 
Instead, he eases back in with eyes darting between his wedding present and where they’re connecting, his thumb diligently rubbing hard and steady circle on her nerves.
“C’mon wifey, need y’to not be stubborn,” Harry goads, feeling his release coming again - he pinches her clit with just enough pressure that has her whining before Harry has to hold her up by the waist as she quivers.
It has him finishing right after with a gentle smack to her bumcheek, the skin already tender and sore from all of his attention on the spot as it was.
“I loved your vows,” YN murmurs against his chest. He had wrapped her up in one of the plush blankets and he had pulled on a tight pair of briefs and they were laying on a lounge chair on the blacony under the italian stars.
“I loved yours just as much, y’did crack the code m’love ‘cause now I’m yours forever,” Harry rumbles, his voice raspy with drowsiness.
Little did they know that in a few short years, they would be back under these italian stars with knowledge that they were growing a little product of their love in her belly.
A litte baby named Ivy, just like the beautiful, lucious nature that had decorated the place in magneificent as they spoke vows - dedicating their lives to each other.
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minniepetals · 3 years ago
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Rose & Thorns: 09
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— summary: a lone rose, a little broken, until Jungkook came along and the two of you saved each other. and in doing so, Jungkook showed you a world where he shared with his six other mates.
— pairing: dragon!bts x reader
— genre: fluff / slight angst / poly!au / fantasy!au / dragon!au
— word count: 8.3k
— warnings: none
╰ part 1 / part 2 / part 3 / part 4 / part 5 / part 6 / part 7 / part 8 / part 9 / part 10
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"Hi there."
Just two single words are uttered from your lips and Jungkook is reminded of everything that has happened from the very first moment you spoke those exact first words to him.
He remembered those eyes of yours, so lost, so lonely, yet still having that kindness within to try and reach out a hand in order to ease his pain even if it meant just a small dose. Little did you know you'd end up as a true keeper of the dragons, lover to the seven princes of the East Sky and Mountains. But knowing the rewards, in the end, had never been anything you were seeking for at the time, and his heart warmed at the single reminder of how truly kind your heart is. After all, before you could even come to that moment of happiness with them all, you had to face serious consequences all because of that kind heart of yours.
Looking back on it, Jungkook only wished he could have dealt with it all in a better sense. If he were there for you like you were always for him, if he had gotten to his lovers a little sooner to make them see that nothing about you had been false, if he had been there through your pains and tears, maybe you could have reached that dream of freedom and happiness so much quicker.
"Jungkook?" Yet no matter what he thought, you were always there gracing him a sweet smile with such precious eyes that he knew he would forever hold dearly to.
"Back from taking care of the little whelps?" He asked, driving his thoughts away from the memories in order to look at what was in front of him instead. Jungkook knew he couldn't keep dwelling on the past no matter how much it had hurt him. Because here you were, lips curled into a brighter smile and he knew then that no matter what he thought, you'd never blame him for anything.
But perhaps that was what was hurting him even more.
You walked into the castle, feet having light bounces to them with a basket full of laundry. "I'm fairly certain Namjoon will hold an apprentice ceremony for Haeun soon. Who do you suppose her mentor will be?"
He grabbed you by the arm to pull you back in front of him before you could walk right past him without a second thought, surprising you just a bit.
"I'm sure Namjoon will make a wise decision on that but," the young dragon drew both his hands to hold you firmly by the shoulders as he expressed a disappointed face, "don't you think you're forgetting about someone else first?"
You giggled under his adorable pout. "Don't you have to get ready for the afternoon hunting patrol soon?" You reminded him, causing him to let out a grunt.
"Why is it that Taehyung and Seokjin are the ones to have you by their sides every day? Why can't it be me?"
"Kook," you laugh, "you know your hyungs would never let me go out there to support the patrols. For one, it can be dangerous especially for a simple human like me, and two, I don't have a clue on what to do during a patrol."
He sighed, allowing his hands to drop by his side again. "It's unfair. Sometimes I wish I wasn't a warrior."
"Don't say that. The clan has both you and Hoseok to keep us protected and that is something I would never want to take away from you."
"I know. I just want to spend more time with you" He looked up to meet your gaze again. "But for now this will do." Without any warning, he leaned in to give you a quick kiss to your lips, causing your cheeks to brighten in an instant as he strolled away with a giggle, knowing exactly what your expression would show without even looking.
You were too adorable for your own good.
.
.
"Have you ever had scented candles before?"
On one of the rarer days when you were free from your duties and didn't have the little whelps demanding for your attention almost every second you turned your head and Seokjin was well on his own, you accompanied Jimin in the lonely dungeons as he made his rounds as head of the guards, making small talks ever so often.
There weren't many prisoners locked up for their bad deeds just as the time you spent there a prisoner yourself so you knew Jimin often got lonely making his rounds all alone each time. Taking that into consideration, you weren't going to let the opportunity of your free time be spent doing nothing.
"Scented candles?" You tilted your head slightly to the side with innocent eyes that always got him every time and Jimin chuckled lightly after dropping his clipboard on a table from finishing his rounds with you by his side and turning to elsewhere. "I've heard of them before but they don't necessarily exist around here do they?"
"They don't but there are tales of the scented candles being of great help to be of comfort for anyone in need." Your eyes widened at his words, feeling quite intrigued, and when Jimin turned back around with a few things in hand, your breath hitches. "The first person that came into mind was you when I heard about them," he told you with bright eyes smiling as he brought them on over towards the table at the center of the room. You followed him curiously, rounding yourself to stand beside him as he displayed the candles for you. "So I had one of our traveler dragons to bring them back when they had the time."
"Jimin..." You felt so touched by his kind thoughts for you you almost didn't know what to say towards the sweet gesture. But when he graced you with a tender smile upon your gaze on him, you were sure he understood your thankfulness towards him.
"If only we had these at the time when you were our prisoner." His face fell with slight dejection but you were quick to shake your head lightly.
"Having you to help me then was more than enough, Jimin, I promise. Then again," thinking back to that time, you giggled upon the memories, "would you guys have really wasted such precious things on me at the time?"
He sighed. "I'm glad we can joke about it now but looking back at it, we were so horribly rude to you I can't believe I let my emotions get the best of me."
"You were just worried for the little one."
He chuckled upon your words with a tousle to your hair. "I don't think Jungkook would appreciate someone smaller than him calling him the little one."
You gave him a pout. "And why not? You do it to him all the time."
"Because I'm his hyung. Though he does often tease me about it from time to time." You giggled knowingly, already picturing their small bickering when it came to the two of them and their banters. Having seen that, Jimin smiled from where he stood beside you and brought his hand behind your head in order to pull you close and place a sweet kiss on your forehead, surprising you and making your cheeks flare up at the sudden gesture without warning. He found it cute how you had yet to get used to their kisses whether unexpected or not but returned his eyes to the candles despite the shocking state you were still in.
"Shall we try one of them?"
With his question, you blinked in a daze before shaking your head to return to the subject, and with your cheeks still slightly flushed, your eyes darted back to the candles laying on the table. "There are so many different kinds," you observed with a slightly opened mouth of astonishment to which Jimin found adorable.
"I didn't know what kind of scent you'd prefer so I got the dragon to get a couple different kinds."
"Lots of them are flowery scents," you beamed under the lowlights of the dungeon as you went on to pick up the candles in order to observe them up close. Pulling them up close to your nose, you waft at them in order to get a sense of how each of them smelt, your expressions clearly pleased each time you got a new scent to try as Jimin simply stood there watching you, happiness blooming in his chest at just the sight of you so content. "They all smell so great even without it lit up."
Your face fell with furrowed brows as you stared at each of the candles, having a hard time choosing which one to try first and Jimin let out a laugh. "You're so cute," he said. "We can try every one of them now if you still have time to spare."
"I have all the time to spare!" You exclaimed almost a little too happy for someone who had come in the dungeons declaring the desire to help. But he knew that was just the way you were and for that alone, Jimin wasn't at all dissatisfied by it.
"Well then, since you're having a hard time choosing which one to try first, just close your eyes and choose."
"Good idea!"
Upon Jimin's suggestion, you quickly closed your eyes and hovered your hand over the candles, blindly searching over each one before you finally settled with the one to the far right. With that, you opened your eyes again and held that one up.
"Lavender," the dragon beside you stated.
"Lavender's wonderful!" You were quick to say with your eyes lighting up at the chosen one. "It helps relieve stress and anxiety," you let him know and his brows furrowed a little at your words.
"Are you having trouble, little one?" He asked, concerned.
"Oh no, not me," you quickly said with a shake of your head. "I want to share this with Namjoon because I know being a leader to a clan isn't always the easiest. He comes home later than every one of us after all and most times I'm already asleep by then. I haven't seen him around lately so I'm a little worried."
His eyes softened at your innocent kindness that never seemed to ever leave your heart no matter what and for that alone, Jimin almost believed that he was falling in love all over again. "We're so lucky to have you by our side."
You looked up at him and gave him a humble shake of your head. "It's the other way around," you smiled. "Do you think he'll appreciate it? Oh, but you got these for me as gifts."
"Don't worry, it's always best to share gifts like these with each other," he said while gently stroking your head. "I know Namjoon will be more than happy to receive this."
"Then shall we also choose candles for the others as well? I think it would be really incredible to build a storage room for scented candles so that whenever one of us needs it, we can always—"
"Before that."
"Hm?"
Innocently, you looked up from the candles to meet Jimin's gaze only to have your lips captured in a sweet kiss, leaving your breath to hitch and your eyes to widen as you froze right there at the unexpected kiss.
Jimin leaned away just enough to give you some space with a chuckle. "Your reactions will always please me."
"J-Jimin!"
"But," his brows furrowing slightly, he brought his hand over to slowly swipe his thumb along his lip as you simply stood there, staring at those plump lips of his, not knowing what to do, "I want more, little one."
"J.." Your cheeks brightened even more as your eyes were quick to avert to the ground upon meeting his eyes, causing him to let out another throaty chuckle.
"I love you."
He found it amusing in the way your face only seemed to flush even more each time he did and said something. Your eyes were shaking, not knowing where to look, and he was sure your head was swarming with thoughts of how to respond to him. Surely you were panicking upon whether to return those sweet three words or not and it brought a tug at the corner of his lips.
"Well?" He raised a brow, waiting for your permission.
You bit your lip, still contemplating, but Jimin went on to take the lavender-scented candle away from your grasp to place it back onto the table as he inched towards you in a sly manner.
"I..." You opened your mouth shyly.
"Yes?" He urged you on.
"I-I..." You stepped back out of panic but he followed right away. "Well..um..."
"Hm?"
Bravely, you looked up to meet his eyes head-on and Jimin smirked, satisfied with that. But still, he waited to hear your words and despite how slow you were with it, hearing it made him happy nonetheless.
"I love you too." You told him and he smiled, letting his hand trail down your face in a gentle possessive manner before leaning in and pressing his sweet lips to your own.
It's a gentle kiss like the gentleman he is and not long after your thoughts are filled with him and him alone.
.
.
"I can't wait to become an apprentice! I just know prince Namjoon will choose the perfect one for me!"
You giggled fondly at the little dragoness who sat beside you helping you with your duties as the two of you fold the blankets for the whelps together. "But before that, you will have to let him know what you want to be first, right?"
"Ah," she said, almost as if she had forgotten about the beginning steps first.
"Well?" You urged her on. "What would you like to be as part of the clan?"
She looked away thinking, her hands coming down to a stop on top of the white blanket that laid on her lap, her thoughts going on to stray away to the different duties every dragon has as a member of the clan.
"Unnie how did you choose what you wanted to do?" She asked you instead of answering, her decisions still unclear.
"Well," you started, ready to help her to try and decide, "I chose to be both Seokjin's underling and helping out with the whelps because I love helping. I guess it was easy to decide because, for one, I enjoy taking care of the whelps' needs, and two, I'm used to the herbs and remedies as I've often had to learn them myself without relying on others to help me heal when I needed it. Plus it comes in handy when the princes need to be tended to."
"You don't like just watching on the sideline and would rather be of help, huh?"
You nodded with a smile. "Tending to them makes me feel useful. I can protect them in that sense while they help to protect the clan as warriors themselves. I'd hate to just stand back and watch them in pain, not knowing how to help them. It'd feel worse than anything"
Haeun broke into a beaming smile at your answer. "Unnie, that sounds just like you."
You chuckled at her words and went on to tousle her hair. "You'll find your purpose one day soon. Take your time, no one is rushing you."
"Oh!" She let out a cute little gasp. "What if I worked as a caretaker as well? That way I can be of more help here in the roosts!"
"That sounds—"
"No."
The two of you turned at the voice to find Taehyung walking up with a slightly displeased expression as he handed little Kihyun to Haeun before shamelessly pulling you against his chest right in front of the kids.
"T-Taehyung!" You quickly gasped and were ready to push him away at the unexpected gesture. Only he wasn't going to let you go.
"You already spend too much time with my princess, you can't keep taking her away from me. I'm supposed to be the one who spends more time with her than anyone else, Haeun!"
You couldn't believe this was the reason for his refusal of Haeun's help but rather than taking him seriously, the dragoness let out an exasperated sigh as she stood from her spot with Kihyun in hand before purposely sticking her tongue out at the prince. "Sucks to be you then, my prince, because unnie likes me more than you anyways!"
He let out a dramatic gasp with the grip around you only tightening. "How dare you say such lies."
Yet she made no comebacks and simply ran away before Taehyung could scold her anymore.
You giggled at their little banter and turned around to face your lover with a sigh. "I would appreciate it if you kept the affections to a minimum in front of the little ones."
"Why should I? Those little dragons are already trying to steal you away. I'm just marking my territory so they know not to steal someone else's mate, especially one that belongs to a prince."
"You know they're just playing around."
"That's what they'd like you to think, those mischievous little brats."
You burst out laughing at how ridiculous he was, jealous of the little dragons and even having quite the serious pout plastered upon his face. You didn't know what to expect walking into the relationship but even so, everything had been so well you were glad to be able to laugh and smile along their sides no matter how many times you'd get flustered by the things they did.
Frowning at you for not taking him seriously, Taehyung grabbed a hold of your face in both his large palms and brought himself right in front of you, making your laughter cease almost instantly.
"Is it fun making me jealous?" The prince asked with a raised brow, suddenly giving you a deadpanned look you weren't sure what to think. "Hm, princess?"
Your eyes panned away from his out of panic, already afraid to be caught by the poor little dragons in case they stumbled upon the two of you. "Tae—"
"I'm right in front of you yet you're focusing on something else?"
"If the whelps catch us like this, I—" He brought your face forcibly back to face him again with a displeased expression that is quick to bring your voice quiet all over again. "Tae..." Seeing him like that was a little surprising to you. After all, despite the many months spent in the dragon clan, there was still so much you had yet to know of including how the princes would act as your lovers, and now that you were with them, it still felt a little unbelievable they would feel such love and possessiveness over you.
Maybe that was just the nature of dragons. Just as you've heard stories of them being quite possessive with their treasures, perhaps mating was just as if not more important.
Your faces were so close you were sure Taehyung could feel the heat of your cheeks against his palm. It made you even shyer so you looked away, not brave enough to keep eye contact for much longer, and just for that, he let out a knowing chuckle.
"You're so cute." His voice was low, quiet. "I don't want anyone else to see this side to you, princess. You're ours after all, aren't you?"
You ignored his words in an attempt to hide your embarrassment. "Don't you think, um...you're being a little too brave doing this right here?"
"I'm sure Haeun's got us covered."
"That's not—!" You grunted. "We can't let her watch the whelps all alone, you know that."
"Eh," he shrugged, not caring one bit, "she's a good kid. She'll take care of it. In the meantime—"
"Noona!!"
You were quick to gasp and pushed Taehyung away as soon as you heard the young voice calling your name. "Do you need something, Minho?" You asked, turning around as the little one ran up to you while you both ignored the cry of agony and frustration falling out of Taehyung's lips as he leaned back into one of the beds of the whelps, holding his face against his palm at the missed opportunity that was now ripped away from him.
"Noona I wanna play with you!" The little dragon exclaimed with a bright innocent grin plastered on his face but Taehyung knew it was anything but. As if to provoke the prince further, he grabbed ahold of your hands and dragged you off, not even sparing Taehyung a single glance, knowing fully well what he had just done.
.
.
"Y/N."
"Namjoon!" He saw you quick on your little feet as you ran up to him with a beaming smile that was just enough to slowly ease the weights resting on his shoulders. But he knew it wouldn't last forever despite wanting to keep seeing that precious smile of yours even if it meant for just one whole night, dreading for the time that was coming. "I was just looking around for you!"
He gave you a tender smile as he drew his hand along your face, stroking it gently. "Did you need me for something, dear one?"
"Mhm!" You took his hand, ready to run off. "Come here, I—"
But Namjoon pulled you back to stand right before him again, he himself not having moved one inch despite you just about to drag him away. "Can it wait?" He said, causing your smile to fall with a slight concern.
"Oh. Are you busy?"
He hated doing that to you. "I was just about to have Yoongi call for a clan meeting."
"Ah," you said, nodding. "Then I will wait for you in—"
"Actually."
"Hm?"
"I want you to attend the meeting."
That took you by surprise as your eyes widened a little, totally unaware that Namjoon would ask you to attend a clan meeting. Usually, he would have all the princes and his most trusted dragons together for a meeting first before letting the rest know of any news that would be important to announce. You've never attended any meetings before and there hadn't been one for a while so surely the things he had to discuss had to be important, right? So why would he ask you to attend?
Seeing the confusion written on your face, Namjoon began to explain. "You're our Keeper now, remember?" He said, reminding you of the ceremony that had taken place just a few weeks ago. "Must I keep reminding you that you are now very important to the dragon clans?"
"Well..." They've mentioned that but you have yet to know what exactly that title meant for you. "I haven't exactly done much, have I?"
"I know," he nodded, understanding. "Truthfully none of us truly understands how a human would prepare for this role but I need you to begin seeing this title as your new duty. I know you have the whelps to take care of and also work alongside Seokjin but being a Keeper will begin to take up the majority of your time now. I need you to be prepared for anything, Y/N."
"I..." The serious gaze he held for you made you understand how crucial it was but still, you couldn't find the answer as to why. "I don't understand."
Namjoon nodded again. "It is best to let everyone know first before you ask your questions." He took your hand and began leading you towards the one room you hadn't exactly been to before; the meeting hall. "But just know that from now on, the Keeper will be attending every meeting that is to be held."
Knowing your questions would be answered soon, you gave him a nod. "Okay."
The meeting hall was a grand hall that laid a large table right in the middle with twelve chairs surrounding it all together. Seeing it up close and personal itself, you could understand just how serious the meeting was going to be. Even Taehyung himself who had already taken his place towards one of the ends held a grim expression.
But upon seeing you walk in with Namjoon at your side, his face lit up just the slightest bit.
"You look tense," he joked as if trying to ease your nerves with his little jokes. "It's alright, princess," the dragon assured you with a soft smile as he held his hand out to offer you a seat beside him. You easily took his hand, allowing him to guide you to the chair beside him as the others began to file in.
Hoseok took his place on your other side with a grin. "First time here?" He asked almost flirtatiously and made you let out a giggle.
Not long after the meeting began.
"The three clans have gotten news of me declaring Y/N as Keeper of the Dragons." You could feel all eyes turning to you at the report that left Namjoon's lips and just for that, you felt a weird feeling drop within your stomach but you weren't sure exactly what you were supposed to feel.
Was it a good thing? Or not?
Weren't the Clans all connected in one way or another despite them ruling their own skies and mountains? Questions swarmed in your head and you were suddenly realizing just how much you didn't know about lots of things that were important to the clan.
Sensing your confusion, Namjoon began to explain. "There are four main clans. The East, the West, the North, and the South. The other clans that exist are the smaller clans that protect other areas that are not covered by the four major clans. The warriors live protecting our territories in order to maintain the lands that were given to us from the first beginning wars many years ago. We are allowed to go to war with any smaller clan to gain land if we wish to do so, but none of us are allowed to attack any of the major clans so that no one clan becomes one over the other and dictates the rest."
"Hence that's where gaining a Keeper poses a problem, doesn't it, my prince?"
You turned your head at the warrior that had spoken. "It..does?"
He sent you a conflicted expression. "Us major clans may not be allowed to attack the others to maintain order but there are other ways to gain power and look slightly better than the rest."
"And one way by doing that is having our ancestor warriors accept a Keeper into one of the clans," another warrior added.
You were posing a problem as a Keeper already? Just by existing? Did that mean you'd have to leave in order to not cause more problems and potentially be the reason the clans may go to war?
Seeing those worried brows furrowing, Seokjin turned back to Namjoon. "The clans have given you their answers, I am sure. What did they say?"
With Seokjin's question, the attention returned to the high prince once again.
"They will accept the Keeper as long as we grant them the permission to use her in the case of any major wars."
Jungkook abruptly stood up in protest. "No!" He said in a thunderous tone with a face filled with rage at the thought of even bringing you to the wars. "I will not allow anyone to use Y/N in any way shape or form even if it comes to our own wars."
"But the Keeper has her powers to protect herself and the ones beside her."
"Y/N doesn't know how to use her powers yet," he was quick to dismiss the thought.
Meanwhile, you look at Hoseok and Taehyung beside you with confusion at this so-called power of yours. You really possessed powers now? And as if reading your thoughts, the two of them gave you a silent nod both firmly to let you know that all of this was real.
"She can learn."
"And she will."
"Whether she learns it well or not does not mean I will let anyone take advantage of her and put her life at risk. Y/N's already gone through so much, you can't just expect her to suddenly be thrown into the middle of our clan's problems."
But you were the root of the problem so it only made sense. And you were sure you weren't the only one thinking that as you looked around the room, noticing the hesitation in the warrior's expressions as some of them felt conflicted on whether to voice their true opinion on the matter or not since they all knew you were the lover of the princes.
Sighing silently with worry, you spared a glance towards Namjoon who seemed to be the one in the most conflicted position. After all, as leader of the East Clan, he had to consider both sides to the problem while also needing to take in the other clan's words without dismissing it so easily.
As you sat there while the debate continued on, you realized that the only way the clan could have accepted you at all was to become a Keeper. That was the only position available to you as a human in order to be someone not only the East Clan could trust but the rest of the clans as well. Which also meant that this was Namjoon's way of protecting you. Because as Keeper, you were given the power to protect not just the people around you but yourself as well.
"Hyung." Jungkook turned back to Namjoon, wanting the leader to declare the words of declining the other clan's orders but you knew it wasn't going to be that easy of a decision.
The room fell silent again as the youngest of the prince addressed the leader who sat tall in his seat at the end of the table. His gaze remained grim with both his hands clasped together in front of him with silent thoughts swarming in his head.
It remained that way for a while, the room waiting for Namjoon to speak.
He closed his eyes for a second before sitting back tall against his seat and looking up to rest his gaze right on you. Your heart skipped a beat, not knowing what he was going to ask of you or if he had come up with a decision, and whatever it was, you knew you had to be prepared.
"Y/N," he called, voice uttered in a low octave.
"Yes?" You were almost too afraid of what his next words were going to be but this was Namjoon you were talking about. You knew you could trust him with your whole life. The two of you went through danger together, helped each other up, carried one another, and made it out alive in the end. You knew more than anyone that he wouldn't purposely lead you to danger. After all, even though he had hated you then, he still protected you from that great fall because he knew you were special to Jungkook.
If there was anyone you could trust, it would be Namjoon.
"The wars that the dragon clans may involve themselves in can be quite brutal," he told you. "There will be enemy dragons far more dangerous than the ones that had attacked both you and Seokjin. You have to, however, be rest assured that our own warriors are far stronger than you can ever imagine. I will do all that I can to negotiate with the other three clans but be prepared to know that you may be needed in one of the wars in the future."
"Namjoon—"
He held a hand up to silence Jungkook without ever diverting his gaze from you. "No dragon that belongs to the clans, whether that of the major clans or the smaller ones, will ever dare to harm you. Every dragon knows not to try and harm a Keeper who lives to protect them. So if and when the wars ever come, will you give your complete trust to us in due time just as the clans will do the same with you?"
Seeing that complete resolve in Namjoon's eyes which hides no lies upon his vow to keep you from harm's way, you knew your answer.
"More than anything, I will entrust my life to the clans."
Proud with your reply, Namjoon let himself give you a faint smile in return.
"This will mean the clans will want to meet her, won't they?" Jimin spoke up upon the possibility and returning to his serious expression once again, Namjoon gave a nod.
"The Keeper has much to learn then."
"That's right."
Customs and courtesies along with the history of the Clans and their origins. Adding along with your training as a Keeper, the need to protect the dragon clans. You had much to do but you knew running away from it wasn't going to happen so you sat there with a resolved look in your eyes, letting the dragons know that you were going to do it all if it meant protecting them.
They smiled knowingly, proud to have you as their Keeper.
.
.
"Can't sleep?"
Namjoon's eyes turned tender upon the sight of you joining him out on the balcony later that night. He held out a hand for you to take and you gladly accepted it with no protest, allowing him to bring you forward and wrap his arms around you to keep you warm from the night breeze.
It remained silent for a while with the two of you just basking in each other's warmth, comfortable with just the sound of the crickets chirping under the night sky filled with the light of the twinkling stars.
"I'm sorry," he whispered a moment later and you turned to look up at him with confusion.
"For what?"
"When I gave you the title as Keeper of the Dragons, I should have asked you about it all first instead of just deciding it all on my own," he told you with a grim expression resting on his face. "Now you're going to have to face some challenges that you weren't prepared for."
His voice was soft against the wind, but you could hear the guilt and heavy stress weighing against him, letting you know that he had been worrying about you with all of this now going on. The other three clans weren't going to give in to his negotiations that easily but Namjoon would be working hard just for the sake of you and for that you knew all you wanted to do at that moment was to ease his burdens.
"It's okay," you told him softly as you leaned against his chest to let him understand that you weren't blaming him for any of it. "You gave me a place in your clan and that is more than enough."
"Being a Keeper is not going to be easy on you. Whether it was the only title I could give you as a human or not, this will only make things harder on you."
You chuckled a little at those words. "You know more than anyone nothing has been easy for me in the first place."
"Exactly." He let out a sigh as his arms around you tightened with worry. "This isn't exactly helping."
"As a Keeper, no one can hurt me, right?"
"You're going to have to learn to defend and use your powers first."
"Mhm," you nodded. "And I will."
"I know you will Y/N, and I trust you with all that I have," he acknowledged without any doubt. "I know that despite the situation you're suddenly placed in, the burdens you will have to face as a Keeper, you won't let any of that get to you and will do all that you can do for the clan. But," he gave you a squeeze, holding you tighter as if to silently tell you how afraid he was knowing he had no choice but to send you away as a leader who had to make the best decisions for everyone, "truthfully I wanted to agree with Jungkook and straight-up refuse the thought of even involving you in any future wars. The little one knows you best. He's seen through it all, feels the most guilty out of any of us for not being able to protect you as well as we should have. And I know you don't blame him, none of us does, he was after all the one who fought so hard for your life. But because he had to go through that, Jungkook will be the one to suffer the most when we have to send you off to fight."
You understood that. You understood the fact that Jungkook's heart was so big he wanted to protect everyone he could with his power. He was there beside you, always feeling helpless he couldn't do much to help you in your situation knowing he had been less powerful than the rest of his hyungs, but even then, you would never blame him because none of it was his fault.
He was a kind, gentle, and loving dragon who refused to let any of his lovers get hurt. But you understood where Namjoon was coming from and knew this wasn't going to be easy at all.
"I will tell you this though," you looked up at the leader whose eyes were already on yours with a firm resolve in his eyes. "As the leader of the Eastern Clan and as your lover, I will not let anything happen to you no matter what we will face in the future. So can you place your faith in me and do your part knowing I will be standing right beside you in all of this?"
"Namjoon..." Dealing with the Clans and potentially needing to be used in some of the future wars would not be easy, you knew, but you also knew that you weren't going to be alone. So you gave him a firm nod, knowing more than anyone that you could trust him. "Of course."
He leaned in to place a kiss on your head. "That's all I need to hear."
.
.
The days grew longer and longer as you took your duties off as Seokjin's assistance and the caretaker of the whelps in order to begin your training as the true Keeper of the Dragons.
You were given a teacher who taught you the history of the Clans and common customs and courtesies to prepare you for the meeting of the other three clans and had to face a challenge in trying to understand how the previous Keeper had lived.
None of it was easy, knowing you would be alone throughout most of it because the dragons themselves had no idea of how to train someone with a position they've never had to face. So you spent most of your time in the large library mostly to yourself with lessons after lessons on the history of the Clans and the first Keeper of the Dragons.
Given the ability to wield the power to physically protect someone while having no idea how to use or control it was hard for a beginner like you, but you knew you couldn't give up so easily because this was now your duty. You couldn't let your clan down nor disappoint anyone.
Everyone believed in you, it was your duty to show them that you were capable of this position without any doubt.
If the other three clans blindly trusted in you to the point of potentially asking you for aid in future wars then you could not let them see you as a weak and vulnerable human who would make excuses on how hard it was. You had to prove yourself to everyone.
Not just your princes, not just your clan nor the other three clans, but to yourself as well.
You were going to face this head-on, knowing it was your duty to protect the dragons now as Keeper of the Dragons.
.
.
"Tired?"
You quickly shook your head as you headed back to the private chambers after another long day of studying. With a big smile plastered on your face, you knew you couldn't let them worry over you so much.
"I'm perfect!" You said to Yoongi who held on to a skeptical expression.
"Well that's true but," he held his hand up to stroke your hair with eyes that didn't blindly believe you so easily, "you know it's okay to say when you're tired, right? You have it very rough right now, after all. We can all see it."
"Well I'm a little tired," you admitted sheepishly, knowing you couldn't hide anything from them as he brought you in to hold you in his arms soon after. "But it's been going well, I promise."
"I don't doubt that." Seokjin came up from behind you to place a kiss on your head. When you looked up at him, his eyes were just as concerned as Yoongi's. "I know you're a smart girl who is stronger than anyone I've ever met, however, you must remember to not push yourself too hard."
"You often go to the extremes for others, that's why we're so worried, princess," Taehyung said.
"If it becomes too difficult to face this all on your own, you have to tell us," Jimin chimed in. "Preparing for battles is not easy but doing this as a Keeper is something beyond our own imaginations. We may not understand some things but we're right here for you, okay?"
"Once you're done with the first steps of knowing how to defend and use your powers as a Keeper, the next step is learning how we fight our wars."
"I'm sorry," Namjoon said after Hoseok, looking the most worried out of them all since he was the one to have given you the title. "This is a lot more than I thought it'd be."
"I promise I'm alright," you said with sincerity at their concern for you. You hated seeing them like that but you knew it was coming from a good place. "Learning to protect the Clans is a privilege. I'm honored to be a Keeper. I won't let you down."
"Y/N."
You turned to the sound of the last prince to speak and saw the way he stood a bit further from the rest of you, an unsettling uneasiness clear on his face as his brows furrowed while he refused to look at you at first. It was silent for a moment as you waited for Jungkook to speak.
When he finally managed to look up and meet your face, you could see how much this was affecting him and felt your heart drop at just the sight alone. Jungkook was so worried about you.
He held his hand out, eyes averting from yours again but still, you took it without hesitation, letting the youngest prince have his way with pulling you into his strong arms. You couldn't see it from where you stood just seconds ago but now that you were in his arms, you could feel the way he was trembling slightly as he held you.
"'Please," he whispered as he let his cheek rest against your head, "if it's too hard you have to let us know. You can't lie to us no matter what. If you don't want to do this anymore then just say the word and we'll take care of it. But I know that is not something you'd ever do because you are much too noble for that so please...please don't push yourself too hard for any of our sakes. If you go too far you'll hurt yourself. So this time, this time I won't let you get too far. I promise I'll uphold my words and protect you. So please rely on me. Okay?"
You knew to some extent that Jungkook worried the most out of everyone but hearing those words coming out of his mouth, feeling the slight trembling of his body, you knew how scared he was right now. So worried, so afraid.
He loved you so much so you knew you couldn't do something that would make him think you were only going to make things harder for yourself.
You stepped back just enough to face him again where you reached up to hold his face in your hand. His eyes were filled with so much grief you wished you could just take all those worries away in a blink of an eye. But it wasn't going to be that easy. Despite that, however, you knew you had to do something to ease the pain even if it meant a small dose.
"I promise, Jungkook. I won't go too far this time."
"Good." He said and buried his face against the crook of your neck, his breath shaky as he let out a sigh. "Good."
"How about this?" Witnessing that moment between the two of you, Namjoon spoke up. "You should take a break tomorrow. You've been working non-stop these past few weeks after all."
"Hm?" You turned to Namjoon with a slight confusion while Jungkook remained in your arms, refusing to let you go anytime soon. "But—"
"The clan haven't seen you in a while since you've been buried in the library almost every day since your training started. I'm sure they've missed you."
"That's right," Taehyung let out a sigh at just the reminder of the little whelps demanding him questions after questions on when they were ever going to see you again. "You know more than anyone how much those little whelps love you. They've been asking for you since the day you started your training and Haeun isn't making things any easier. She's gotten so grumpy I can't keep handling all of them on my own."
You laughed lightly upon the mention of the little ones, already picturing them complaining to Taehyung and bouncing around him for answers about you.
"Everyone knows you're working so hard right now," Yoongi stated with a firm nod. "You should take tomorrow to catch up on things and take things easy. They've all missed you."
"I suppose a day wouldn't hurt."
"Then it's settled." With that, Namjoon gave you a faint smile as he walked up to both you and Jungkook, giving you a kiss to your head before gently patting Jungkook's head. He looked up, still slightly upset about this whole thing. "Y/N's going to be okay," the leader vowed firmly. "Everyone's looking out for her."
"Mhm," you nodded with a smile. "So don't worry too much, okay?"
He took a moment to stare at the kind smile you gave him and seeing how sincere you both were, Jungkook began to look relieved as his face relaxed for the first time in a while. "Okay," he sighed with a small smile of his own. "I'm proud of you."
Your heart blossomed with love.
.
.
Two weeks later, you were to leave to meet the three clans of the North, South, and West.
Dressed in formal wear, you took a deep breath as you stared out at the view of the horizon from the mountain top, knowing this would be the first time you would be leaving the mountain and being gone for a while.
"Are you ready?" You turned at the voice of Hoseok who stood tall beside Namjoon as the two of them would be the ones to accompany you on the journey. Behind them stood the rest of the princes and the clan to bid their farewells and wait for your return. Scanning the crowd, you could see some faces of worry and decided to give them all your usual kind smile.
"I have Namjoon and Hoseok with me, you can all stop looking at me like I'm already going out for war," you said with a small laugh to lighten the dampened mood. "I will be alright," you give them the vow with confidence in order to ensure that they did not have to worry too much.
It seemed to have worked since many of their faces began to lighten up again.
"We will be waiting for your return."
"Please stay safe."
"Send word if anything goes wrong. We'll be ready for anything."
You laughed again. "You all worry too much."
"For good reason." Seokjin walked up looking slightly grumpy. "We're sending our Keeper away after all."
"They won't do anything to me, I'm just going to be meeting them so that they will know who the Keeper is," you reminded him.
"I'm surprised you can be so calm." Truthfully despite Jimin's words, you were quite worried but you knew you couldn't show that now. It wouldn't be the best thing to do knowing the clan themselves were already concerned. "You're so brave, little one."
"Mhm," you nodded at his words with a confident grin. "So trust me a little more, hm?"
"Stay safe, princess," Taehyung told you as he gently tousled your hair.
"I will."
Meeting both Namjoon and Hoseok's gaze, there seemed to be some sort of a silent conversation going on as Yoongi met their gazes before he turned to you with a small smile. "We'll be waiting for you."
"Mhm," you smiled.
"I love you," Jungkook whispered before turning to Namjoon and Hoseok. "You too," he said. "Be careful out there."
"Of course," Hoseok nodded.
"Shall we go? We must reach the Southern Clan before the sun sets." Upon those words of Namjoon's the clan tensed up again along with an odd feeling dropping along your stomach. But you knew you had to do this whether it was scary or not. It was important to the future of the clans after all.
Once both Namjoon and Hoseok transformed into their respective dragon forms, you gave the clan a formal bow of respect. "I shall return in time."
With that, you climbed onto Hoseok's back and the two of them took off riding into the sky, leaving the Eastern Dragon Clan behind.
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ollovae3 · 2 years ago
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Hi there!
I'm looking to create a clone OC, but I'm worried about power dynamics being an issue between him and a far more "galaxy weary" partner who has seen a lot more of the universe's cruelty.
Do you have any advice on how to make sure the relationship and dynamic stays healthy and equal? I've never shipped a clone with anyone before, so this is all brand new territory for me.
Hallo, Anon!!
I actually figured out words for a minute between homework pages, so wanted to reply while they were still with me!!
But: A. Love the idea and also honored you asked! And B. I think so far this actually sounds totally fine? Honestly your pair sounds like my parents!! My Mom's the "Eeyore" of the two, and my Dad's the "Tigger" as they put it, along with other things, so they're similar sounding!
I think I know where you're aiming your worries, so I'll answer to that, but if I guess wrong please feel free to toss another ask at me!! And none of these are like,,, decrees or anything? Just suggestions for you to take and run with as you like!! If they sound definitive, sorry about that, that's not the tone I'm meaning to give. 😅
If you're worried about power in general, this partner being a Jedi would be a more major concern, but civvies also need to be kept an eye on? Clones have very little/no power during TCW, and if they're AWOL they're at risk of being captured and sent to an unknown fate. I'd advise writing this concern in, even if just in your notes, and have them address that imbalance? For Avi and Thorn, for example, along with boundaries for her as a Jedi (and her being technically non-military/not in command of his branch), they also agreed to let him be the lead for how the relationship proceeds, so he lets her known when he's ready to move forward, or needs space, so that he's got more control over how far he's okay with going in various situations.
If your clone is still serving, I'd run with something similar, so that the civvie isn't like, putting him in danger or making him feel as though he's being dragged around with threat of a report over his head. If not serving, I'd aim that way still, though enjoy adjusting to giving them more PDA/date time 🤣
As for the "World-weary vs Hopeful" dynamic, I'd definitely stray away from old tropes of "clone knows nothing and acts like a child constantly" and "partner has to show clone about anything that isn't a weapon". The clones know things, they've trained for this, he's likely been deployed for a bit and gotten to travel and visit different places, experience new things already! Instead of the mentioned tropes, aim for something more adult. Maybe he knows about grocery stores and street food, but he's never had money so never gotten to actually choose and purchase anything, so when partner takes him along to a corner store, he's excited to get to pick out what to get! Maybe he loves candy, but trading with vod isn't a vast wealth of the one he really likes, so partner taking him out to go and buy a bunch of that candy to enjoy and explore. Stuff like that if that makes sense? Emotionally, those old tropes show up too, so watch out for those. While Clones maybe didn't get a TON of romance experience, they clearly know about it. They'd be more likely to just be awkward about how to go about flirting/asking someone out, rather than entirely ignorant to the concept.
And address the question more literally, while this person may have seen more cruelty, it may be interesting to pit that against how the Clones are raised and what they've seen in battle? Maybe your trooper describes home and his childhood, while partner is listening with a dropped jaw. Maybe they don't get why he's so damn optimistic, why he's so "ignorant to the real world", only to get a verbal smackdown explaining that he's very much aware of the real world, but that he's also witnessed a lot of good, and he fights to protect that, not to try and just beat bad guys?
Sorry for this length, I was trying to sort of "shotgun" answer, since I was worried you may have been asking one of a few different ways? But if I still missed or if something I said is odd/confusing, let me know!! I'm in midterms so my brain is mush atm. 😅
When you write or draw those OCs PLEASE let me see, they sound wonderful?? And for ok there questions, definitely check out CloneHub and Queen-Breha-Organa!! They've got great posts about racism in SW, and discussions about clone OCs/ships!
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barnesafterglow · 3 years ago
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hey guys! so i finally hit 1k not too long ago which is insane bc i feel like i just made this blog yesterday. being on this site has been the best few months of my life, honestly. i have made some of my best friends on here, and i wouldn’t give them up for the world. i’m so grateful for every single person that follows and supports me. i love you all so much <3
that being said, i thought it would be fun to do a little something for this milestone, and what better way to do that than to make it completely based around taylor swift <3. it feels fitting both because of my username, and the very first fic i ever wrote and posted was based on a taylor swift song
this challenge will start now and end on march 25th. no minimum or maximum word count, but i do ask that if it’s more than 500 words, please use a read more.
edit: if you still want to participate but weren’t able to meet the deadline, please feel free to write something - just make sure you tag me and i’ll add it to the masterlist!
rules:
my blog is 18+ and therefore this writing challenge is too
smut, fluff, and angst are all welcome! please no dark fics
please do not write anything with non/dubcon, bathroom play, underage characters (in relationships), or anything related to suicide, eating disorders, etc. (these last few in particular are very triggering to me and i will not only not read them, but block anyone who submits them)
tag me in your work as well as tagging the post #all’s well writing challenge
message me/send me an ask if you have any other questions!
i will be going through and reading these as they are posted (to the best of my ability), and adding them to a masterlist that i’ll post when all of them are submitted! if it has been more than a couple days since you posted and i haven’t reblogged it yet, shoot me a message or an ask because i may have missed it
below are some suggested prompts, but any lyrics/anything taylor swift related can be used! you also don’t have to use specific lyrics, it can just be the vibe of the line/song. just please be sure to include what the prompt is at the beginning/in your author’s note :) you don’t need to claim a prompt, they can be used by multiple people because i think everyone can make their own unique story!
fluff
“this love is difficult but it's real” love story, fearless
“can't help it if there's no one else” hey stephen, fearless
“the stakes are high, the water's rough, but this love is ours” ours, speak now
“i'll be loving you for quite some time” stay stay stay, red
“all i feel in my stomach is butterflies” everything has changed, red
“just grab my hand and don't ever drop it” i know places, 1989
“you are the one i have been waiting for” king of my heart, reputation
“now i've read all of the books beside your bed” paper rings, lover
“all along there was some, invisible string, tying you to me” / “hell was the journey but it brought me heaven” invisible string, folklore
angst
“and i was right there beside him all summer long, and then the time we woke up to find that summer gone” tim mcgraw, taylor swift
“even now just looking at you feels wrong” should’ve said no, taylor swift
“and my heart's not breaking, 'cause I'm not feeling anything at all” the way i loved you, fearless
“and i stare at the phone, he still hasn't called, and then you feel so low you can't feel nothing at all” forever & always, fearless
“it turns out freedom ain't nothing but missing you” back to december, speak now
“you never called it what it was” / “when your brooklyn broke my skin and bones” all too well, red
”gone was any trace of you, i think i am finally clean” clean, 1989
“but if the story's over, why am i still writing pages?” / “tryna find a part of me you didn't take up” death by a thousand cuts, lover
“i knew i'd curse you for the longest time, chasing shadows in the grocery line” cardigan, folklore
“august sipped away, like a bottle of wine, 'cause you were never mine” august, folklore
“now i'm begging for footnotes in the story of your life” tolerate it, evermore
misc. (ones i really don’t know how to categorize/could go multiple ways)
“but i know you wish it was me” speak now, speak now
“broke your heart, i'll put it back together” how you get the girl, 1989
“should've known i'd be the first to leave, think about the place where you first met me” getaway car, reputation
“all of this silence and patience, pining and desperately waiting” / “i don't want you like a best friend” dress, reputation
“tell me that you're still mine, tell me that we'll be just fine” / “i don't wanna lose this with you” afterglow, lover
“breakups happen every day, you don't have to lose it” / “if our love died young, i can't bear witness” right where you left me, evermore
“everybody wonders what it would be like to love you” gold rush, evermore
characters:
any mcu characters
any sebastian stan characters (except tommy lee and jeff gillooly)
any chris evans characters
if you want to write another character feel free to send me a message and ask!
no pressure tags if people want to signal boost <3
@pellucid-constellations @itistimeforusalltodecidewhoweare @sweetascanbee @sweetdreamsbuck @babiebucky @treatbuckywkisses @spidderboy @aphrogeneias @atlaese @ambrosiase @starbuckie @howdoyousleep3 @buckydaddy @bubblebuckys @buckys-left-middle-finger @foreverindreamlandd @writing-for-marvel @fandoms-writings @nexusnyx @strwbrrybucky @benignbucky @inklore @abovethesmokestacks @jadedvibes @the-iceni-bitch @asgardwinter @schmuckyschmarnes @bloomingbucky @maladaptivexxdaydreaming @smokeinherperfume @beefybuckrrito
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the-bau-quinjet · 4 years ago
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Plum Cobbler
Steve x Barnes!reader, Bucky x platonic!reader
Summary: What happens when Steve confronts the woman who's been sitting outside the compound every Saturday for a month?
Warnings: mentions parental death, some cursing
Word Count: 6315
a/n: This really took on a mind of its own. I was going to make it a series, but I feel like this is the whole story.
Masterlist
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Nervous didn't even begin to describe how you were feeling. Sitting in your car, just outside of the entrance gate to the Avenger's compound was never somewhere you thought you'd be. Not until two months ago, when you found your grandmas old scrapbooks.
Of course, you don't know how to get inside. Honestly, you should have seen this coming. Why would just anyone be able to walk up to their door?
"Who are you?" The sudden question startled you, causing you to jump and hit your head on the roof of your car. You turned to look at the source of the voice, shrinking under her watchful gaze.
The one and only Natasha Romanoff was standing outside your car, glaring at you as if she was ready to drop everything to take you out.
"Oh, um. My name is Y/N L/N. I just wanted to talk to Bucky..." Her glare only grew stronger as you revealed why you were there.
"Barnes doesn't talk to strangers." Before you could explain why, she was gone. You watched her walk into the compound until she wasn't in your view anymore.
"Well, that went horribly." You mumbled to yourself. Now what? Should you just sit there until someone else comes out? Will anyone come out?
-
"So who is she?" Clint asked as soon as Nat got back inside.
"Why is she here?" Sam added on.
"Said her name is Y/N L/N, and she wants to talk to Bucky." Nat rolled her eyes.
"Friday, run a background check on F/N L/N." Tony asked of the AI. "What? You can never be too careful, and people shouldn't know how to get here." He explained given the questioning looks from the rest of the group.
"Y/N L/N, 27, daughter of the deceased Kathleen and Grant L/N. She owns a bookstore in Brooklyn, passed down through her family. No criminal record." Friday responded quickly.
"Sounds normal enough, probably a fan?" Tony suggested, looking around the room.
"A persistent one. She's been here for hours." Steve looked out the window, still seeing your car just outside the gate. "How did she find the entrance?"
Everyone shared similar looks, unsure how a seemingly normal civilian found the gate.
"Excellent question, Capsicle. Friday, got any ideas?" Tony, as usual, turned to the AI for answers.
"Based on GPS data from her car, she drove around upstate New York for eight hours every Saturday for the last 6 weeks until she came across the side road leading to the compound."
"Either she's really good at looking normal, or she's just normal." Nat added on, still slightly suspicious.
"Well, she just left. I guess we're not getting any answers today." Steve said from his position still looking out the window.
-
You came back every Saturday for a month. You didn't know if anything would come of it, but you'd be damned if you didn't try. After your parent's deaths, you thought you had no family left. Finding out you were related to Bucky gave you a lifeline. Something to cling to when you felt alone.
So far, nobody else had come to talk to you. You didn't even know if Bucky knew you were there for him.
The fifth Saturday, you pulled your car up to the gate at 9 am, sticking to your makeshift schedule of waiting outside for the entire day. They had to at least be curious as to why you kept coming back.
Unfortunately for you, the weather upstate today was not the same as the weather in Brooklyn.
Around 10:30, it started to rain. Just a sprinkling, nothing you couldn't handle.
You listened to music, read, ate the lunch you packed, played games on your phone, anything to pass the time. You weren't going to force your way inside, but you were definitely going to show that you were interested.
Typically, you would leave at 5:30. It gave you enough time to drive home and heat up dinner, plus you had to check in on your cat.
Today, however, was a different story. Around 5:15, it started pouring. Sheets of water were coming down around you, completely cutting off any visibility through the windshield.
You figured you'd just wait out the rain, but when it didn't let up by 6, you were getting nervous.
-
"She's still here." Steve walked into the kitchen, announcing his news to the room.
"I'm not surprised. It's not exactly peak driving conditions out there." Sam easily responded, glancing out the window.
"Aren't you the least bit curious as to why?" Steve asked again, pushing the same conversation as always.
Nearly everyone in the room rolled their eyes, sick of repeating the same things.
"Look, we figured if we ignored her, she'd eventually stop. Clearly, that might not be working. If you're so curious, feel free to go ask her." Tony gave in, eager to move on from the discussion of you.
Steve contemplated his choices for all of 2 seconds before grabbing an umbrella and walking down the driveway.
-
You had your head leaned back against the headrest, eyes closed, listening to the rain. Of course you would get stuck here. Why didn't you ever check the weather?
You shrieked when a knock sounded on your passenger side window, not having expected anyone, especially in the rain.
Mr. America himself pointed to the door, gesturing for you to unlock it. You sat up quickly, rushing to hit the unlock button.
He quickly opened the door, shutting his umbrella and lowering himself into the small car.
You were utterly speechless. After your brief encounter with Natasha, you didn't really expect anyone to come talk to you.
Sure, you came back every week, but it was more so to fill the lonely hours you would have normally spent with your parents at the bookstore.
You had other employees to run the shop on Saturdays, allowing you to come here instead.
"Why are you here?" He sounded more curious than anything. Clearly he didn't perceive you as a threat, which was good because you had zero fighting experience.
"To talk to Bucky." Your voice was quiet, unsure how much you should share.
"I know that. Why?" He had fully turned in his seat to look at you, his large frame filling nearly the entire car.
"Well, I found something a few months ago that I thought he should know." You stuttered through your response, mildly intimidated by the man in front of you.
"And that something is?" He questioned further, genuinely curious as to what you want to tell his best friend.
You hesitated, eyes flitting around the car, looking at anything but him. He sighed and ran his hand through his hair before speaking again.
"Look, if you ever want to actually talk to him, you should tell me. Buck's been through hell, he won't just talk to anyone. Especially if he has no reason to."
During your conversation, the rain finally let up. You decided to take that as a sign.
"Can I show you something?" You finally looked him in the eye, nearly forgetting why you were even here at the sight of his bright blue eyes.
"Is it the reason you've been out here every Saturday for over a month?" He joked with you, helping to calm your nerves.
You nodded in response, unsure if you could even speak while still looking into his eyes.
"Then please."
You tore your eyes from his face, throwing the car into reverse and backing out of the spot you've claimed as your own. You turned around, heading back to your apartment in Brooklyn.
"Wha- where are we going?" He's clearly surprised by your actions, but he doesn't seem worried.
"I'm going to show you what I found, and hopefully you'll let me talk to Bucky." You paused for a minute, thinking. "Although, really I guess it should be his choice. Maybe you can just give him a message for me, and if he doesn't want to talk I'll leave you all alone."
The idea of never getting to know Bucky, you're only remaining family, hurts, but it's got to be his decision.
Steve just nods in response, still slightly wary of your reasons for wanting to talk to Bucky.
When you're a few minutes away from your apartment, you decide to give him some context.
"You probably already know a lot about me, but let me explain a few things." He silently nods, encouraging you to continue.
"My parents died three and a half months ago." You immediately felt like crying, but did your best to hold it in. Of course, Steve didn't miss the break in your voice. "It was a car accident. The weather was bad. They lost control of the car. They were both pronounced dead on the scene." You parked the car, turning slightly to look at him.
"They were the only family I've ever had, and the were both just gone." You turned and opened the car door, taking a moment to wipe the tears from your eyes. You gestured for him to follow you, locking the car and heading inside your apartment building.
"We were really close. I spent every Saturday at the bookstore with them." You wiped the tears again as the elevator doors closed.
You didn't chance looking at Steve, knowing you would break down at the look of pity.
"I had to go through the stuff at their house. You know, decide what to bring here, what to put in storage, what to get rid of. I found some old scrapbooks, I think from my great grandma."
You lead him into your apartment, locking the door and immediately heading to the kitchen to feed your cat. After you set down the food, you moved to the couch. You had the scrapbooks on the coffee table, having taken every opportunity to look through them.
"I never knew her. My parents didn't talk about her either, I'm not sure if they knew who she was. Her name was Rebecca." You waited a beat, to see if he would understand. When he remained quiet, you handed him one of the books, open to a page with a picture of Steve, Bucky, and Rebecca. "Rebecca Barnes."
You waited again, letting the information sink in for him. After a few minutes he smiled.
"I remember this day." He looked at you, a wide smile on his face. "It was a few days before Bucky was enrolled. We had a picnic." He continued to reminisce, looking through the other pictures in the scrapbook.
"Maybe it's selfish, maybe he won't want to know me, but when I found out I had more family, I wanted to find him." Again, tears pooled in your eyes. "I, I just don't want to be alone."
Steve's smile faltered as he realized what you've been going through, and how you've been doing it alone.
"Hey, I'm sure he'll want to talk to you." He reached out to place a hand on your arm, trying to comfort you.
"Really?" Your eyes were still watery, but a small smile grew on your face.
"I think so. Bucky was really close with his sister when we were young." This time, Steve's eyes grew watery, memories of his youth playing through his mind.
You couldn't take the sight of him being sad, so you pulled him into a hug. He came willingly, letting you bury your face in his chest. He lowered his head so it was overtop of yours, relishing in the comfort of your hug.
You pulled away a few minutes later, not wanting to overstep, but the feeling of his arms around your waist didn't let you go far.
"Thank you for coming out to my car." You laughed, trying to lighten the mood. His face was so close to yours, you could make out the individual shades of blue in his eyes.
"Thank you for sharing your story with me." He whispered back, not wanting to break the moment.
You're not sure how long you would've stayed like that, but a loud crack of thunder jolted you apart.
"What the-" You mumbled, walking over to the window to look outside. Steve followed close behind you, also curious about the weather.
It was now pouring, lightning and thunder cracking overhead.
"I guess the storm followed us to Brooklyn." He joked, rubbing the back of his neck.
"I guess so." You looked at the clock, taking in the late hour.
Steve must've followed your line of sight, because he spoke up. "It's getting late, I should probably go."
You immediately shook your head, your fear of travelling in bad weather shining through. "I can't let you leave when it's like this. It's not safe. You, um, you can stay here tonight. You can sleep in my room. I'll sleep on the couch." You grew more confident as you kept talking.
"I couldn't impose like that." Steve shook his head, not wanting to make you uncomfortable.
"Steve, it's not safe to travel when it's raining like that. I would never forgive myself if something happened to you." Your voice grew tighter, trying not to flashback to the day your parents died.
Steve seemed to realize why you were so worried about the weather, ultimately deciding to agree to stay so you wouldn't worry about him.
"Okay, okay. I'll stay here, but you sleep in your bed. I'll be fine on the couch." He refused your offer, not wanting to force you to spend a night on the couch.
"First of all, thank you. Second of all, you are sleeping in the bed. You're like two feet taller than me." You exaggerated your height difference, but you were trying to make a point. "You won't even be able to lay down on the couch. I take naps here all the time, it's super comfortable." You argued back, unwilling to allow Captain America himself sleep on your tiny ass couch.
"You know, I should've expected you to be this stubborn. You spent five weeks waiting outside the compound with no contact. Plus you're related to Bucky" He laughed to himself, slightly shaking his head. "Fine, I'll sleep in the bed."
You smiled victoriously, jumping up from the couch. "Yay! Do you need anything? I have spare toothbrushes under the sink, and I can probably find you some clothes to sleep in. There's some snacks in the kitchen if you get hungry. Oh! And Carrot might try to lay in the bed with you, but I'll try to keep her out here." You rambled, trying to make sure he was comfortable.
"Carrot?" He smiled at your rambling, finding it adorable.
"Yes! Carrot is my cat. She's a cuddler, so consider yourself warned." You paused, eyes growing wide. "You're not allergic to cats are you? I think there's probably cat fur all over my room."
He laughed again. "No, I don't think the super soldier serum left any room for allergies." He quipped.
You smacked a hand to your forehead. "Duh! Anyway, do you need anything?" You asked again, trying to calm your beating heart.
"Some clothes would be great, thank you." The way he smiled at you did nothing to soothe your nerves.
"Okay." You breathed out, finally taking a deep breath. "I'll go grab some, the bathroom is right here if you need it." You pointed it out on your way to your room. "I'm just gonna get changed real quick, and then I'll be back with your clothes."
He nodded again, watching as you turned and walked into what must be your room.
You quickly changed into a t-shirt and sleep shorts. It took a few minutes of searching through boxes, but eventually you found an old pair of pajama pants and a t-shirt for Steve to sleep in.
You made your way out of the bedroom, handing him the clothes.
"Here ya go. Like I said, there are extra toothbrushes under the sink in the bathroom, and don't hesitate to grab anything you need from the kitchen."
He eyed the clothes in his hands, wondering where they came from, but not wanting to ask.
Luckily for him, you could tell what he was wondering. "They were my dad's." A sad smile graced your face. "I- I sleep in them sometimes when I really wish I could talk to him."
"Thank you." Steve turned to go to bed, but changed his mind last minute. He set the clothes down on the couch, pulling you into another hug. "You know, I can tell your related to Buck. He always looks out for people too."
You blushed at the compliment, grateful he couldn't see your face. "Thank you, that really means a lot." You stayed like that until Steve pulled back to talk to you again.
"I can take you back to the compound tomorrow, if you want. Maybe introduce you to Bucky."
"Really?! You don't want to talk to him first? Or double check anything I told you?" You were shocked at how willing he was to introduce you to Bucky.
"I trust you. Plus, I think you should be the one to tell him." Steve didn't say it out loud, but he also thought you and Bucky would be good for each other.
Bucky had Steve to connect his past and present, but another person for him to rely on wouldn't hurt. And you clearly were looking for a family connection.
"I would love to. Thank you!" You hugged him again, although quicker this time. You jumped back, excited to collect everything you wanted to show him. "I have to find all the scrapbooks to show him!"
When you turned to start collecting things, Steve put a hand on your shoulder, essentially preventing you from moving.
"Why don't we get everything together in the morning? It's getting late and you should get some sleep." He understood how emotionally and physically draining it could be to relive a loss like yours.
"You're right. I should sleep." You tried to slow your mind down, but the prospect of meeting Bucky tomorrow filled you with a mix of excitement and nerves. You gathered your extra blankets and pillows, setting up a bed for yourself on the couch while he went into the bathroom.
You were snuggled in bed, ready to sleep when he came back out.
"Goodnight, Steve."
His heart contracted at how adorable you looked buried in blankets on the couch, but he did his best to ignore it. He'd only just met you after all.
"Goodnight, Y/N."
-
The next morning Steve woke up at 5, per usual. He didn't want to wake you up though, so, despite his natural tendencies to run 10 miles every Sunday morning, he stayed in bed.
That is, until he heard you shuffling around the apartment.
He poked his head out of the room first, trying to verify that you were indeed awake. When he saw you in the kitchen, he fully emerged intent on helping you with whatever you were doing.
"Good morning, you're an early riser?" His question was completely ignored. Granted you couldn't see him yet, but he didn't know why you would be ignoring him.
He made his way closer to you, tapping you on the shoulder to try and get you to interact with him.
You, in a mixture of surprise and fear, turned and threw an egg at him.
He looked at you in shock, while you stared in horror at what you had just done.
You took headphones out of your ears, explaining why you hadn't heard his question.
"Oh my god! I'm so sorry!" You reached toward him with a dish towel, trying to wipe the egg off his (your dad's) shirt. "You just surprised me! I can get you another shirt!"
"It's fine, don't worry-" You ran out of the room anyway, grabbing another shirt of your dad's from the box in your room.
He couldn't help but laugh, oddly relieved that you weren't ignoring him.
When you reentered the kitchen, a shirtless Steve Rogers was washing your dad's shirt in the sink. You froze, taking in the sight of the man before you.
When he turned back around, your eyes took on a mind of their own, soaking in his toned chest and arms. You cleared your throat, shaking yourself out of your stupor to hand him the other shirt.
"Thanks." He smirked, but still blushed slightly before he put it on, ringing out the other shirt before handing it to you. "I didn't want the egg to stick to it since it was your dads, so i rinsed it off..." he trailed off, unsure if it was the right thing to say.
"That's really sweet, thank you. Especially because it was my fault there was even egg on it in the first place." You laughed, trying not to blush with embarrassment.
"Don't worry about it, really. I shouldn't have snuck up on you." He laughed as well, clearing any lingering tension. He took a look around the kitchen, taking in just how much stuff you had out.
"What are you making?" He smiled when you blushed again.
"Oh, I was making plum cobbler... I just, I read online that Bucky likes plums, so I thought I would bring him a cobbler." You blushed again, embarrassed by the admission.
"He does." Steve smiled, completely enamoured with your personality. "Did you want some help?"
"Actually, the cobblers are in the oven already. I was going to make breakfast next, though, so you can help with that." You smiled, noting how easy it was to spend time with him.
"Cobblers? I know Bucky's a super soldier, but one would have been plenty." He joked with you, moving to help scramble some eggs.
"Well, yeah. One is for him, but then I thought the other Avengers might be there and I didn't want to not have enough so I made three."
"You're too cute." The words slipped out before he could even think about what he was saying.
You blushed again, a frequent occurrence it seems when you're with Steve.
You uttered a quick thanks, trying to change the subject. "Do you always get up this early?"
He chuckled again. "Yeah, typically I don't need much sleep. I usually run in the mornings, try to clear my head."
The two of you fell into easy conversation, moving around each other effortlessly to make eggs, sausage, toast, and smoothies for breakfast.
When you finished eating, you collected the scrapbooks Bucky might want to see. You added his mom's wedding ring, the one your mom wore as well, to the box.
"What's that?" Steve pointed to the box, unsure if his assumption was correct.
You pulled out two scrapbooks, pointing to the near identical pictures of Bucky's mom and your mom after having been proposed to.
"My mom always told me her engagement ring was a family heirloom. I think it was his mom's ring too. I thought he might like to have it. As something to remember her by, ya know?"
You got teary eyed again. Thinking about how much he must miss his family combined with how much you miss your own parents was too much to handle.
You finished gathering everything, putting it all in a box to make for easier transportation. You took the cobblers out of the oven, packing them as well.
With a deep breath, you followed Steve back out to your car, ready to talk to Bucky.
-
"Where the hell is Steve?" Bucky nearly stormed into the kitchen.
"Whoa, calm down tinman. What's up?" Sam replied casually, pouring cereal into a bowl.
"Where is Steve? I was supposed to run with him this morning, but he wasn't in his room when I went to find him. I don't even like running this early. I literally only do it because it's what he prefers."
Sam laughed, enjoying anything that annoys Bucky. "Dude, chill. He probably just forgot you were going with him."
Tony walked into the kitchen as well, trying to tune out the whines coming from Bucky, but failing.
"That's what I though, but he's always back by now." Bucky huffed, annoyed with Sam for laughing.
"Who?" Tony asked, now slightly intrigued.
"Steve. I haven't seen him since yesterday." Bucky replied as he angrily ate an apple.
"Really?" Tony sounded mildly concerned, immediately alerting Sam and confusing Bucky.
"You don't think?" Sam asked, ignoring Bucky for the time being.
"I don't know!" Tony looked bewildered. "Friday, where is Capsicle?"
"Captain Rogers left yesterday evening with Y/N L/N." The AI easily replied.
"Who?" Bucky questioned the room, never having learned your name.
"You know the woman who's been sitting outside every Saturday?" Bucky nodded to Sam, unsure why he was bringing it up. "Well, Steve went to ask her why she was here last night."
"Nat told me she was just some fan, wanted to see you all." Bucky furrowed his brow, thinking over the new information on Steve's wearabouts.
"Well, yeah that's what we thought. Look, she said she wanted to talk to you specifically." Sam explained, ignoring the pointed glare from Tony.
"What? Why didn't you tell me?" Bucky rose from his chair, annoyed at everyone now. "Now she's got Steve?"
"Relax, Steve can handle himself. She cleared her background check. We really don't have any reason to believe he's in danger." Tony's words were more to convince himself than anyone else. He's the one who said Cap should go check it out if he was so curious.
"Steve's too trusting. What if it was a trap?" Bucky questioned, glaring daggers at the other two men.
Before they could respond, Friday chimed in with more information.
"Captain Rogers just entered the elevator from the parking garage."
"See, he's fine." Tony glared back at Bucky, secretly relieved that Steve was fine.
Bucky just rolled his eyes before leaving, heading for the elevators to yell at Steve for ditching him this morning.
When the elevator doors opened, however, Steve was not alone.
"Hey, punk, why'd you ditch me- Oh. Who are you?" Bucky eyed you suspiciously, looking between you and Steve.
Before Bucky interrupted, Steve was trying to reassure you that everything would work out. He had a hand on your back, rubbing up and down to soothe your nerves.
His other arm was occupied by the box of scrapbooks, or else he probably would have hugged you again.
You were holding a large sheet pan, three pie dishes sitting on top.
Steve was blushing, a surefire sign Bucky had seen something he wasn't supposed to.
"Oh, um. Hi. My name is Y/N L/N." You froze, not thinking you would have to see him so soon. You could see the family resemblance between him, your great grandma, and your mom.
"The car girl." He nodded, trying to piece together the events of last night.
"Yep, that's me." You laughed nervously, unsure of what he already knew.
"Buck, do me a favor? Let us out of the elevator." Steve eyed him, mildly annoyed with the ambush.
Bucky moved to the side, allowing you and Steve to exit the elevator. You followed Steve down the hall to the kitchen, where you put the cobblers on the counter.
Sam and Tony were still there, eating various foods.
"Well, hello there." Tony greeted when he spotted you, intrigued by the development. He looked at Steve for an explanation.
"Y/N made plum cobbler." Steve said instead, moving his hand back to the small of your back.
Bucky's eyes lit up at the mention of plums, enough to momentarily distract him from Steve's actions.
"Oh, right!" You took a cobbler out of the dish, moving toward Bucky. "This one's for you, because I read that you liked plums." You handed him the dish, quickly moving back to the others. "I also made a peach and an apple for everyone else." You smiled at Tony and Sam, unknowingly leaning slightly into Steve.
"Why does he get a special cobbler?" Sam whined, eagerly reaching for the other dishes.
Suddenly, all eyes were on you. Well, except Sam's who were on the peach cobbler.
"Oh, um, well, I was hoping I could talk to you." You looked at Bucky nervously, unsure of how he would respond.
"Anyone who bakes me a plum cobbler can talk to me, Doll." Natasha chose that exact moment to enter the room.
"Who made plum cobbler?" She looked around the room, eyes narrowing in your direction. "How did you get in here?"
"I brought her." Steve smiled at you before walking over to Natasha. He whispered in her ear, just loud enough for her to hear, but nobody else. "She's not a threat to your relationship, trust me."
Nat nodded her head, trusting Steve, although not for the reasons he thought. She could clearly see the blonde's affinity for you.
"So, what did you want to talk about?" Bucky asked between bites of cobbler.
"It's really a private conversation." Steve answered for you, seeing how unsure of yourself you were.
"Then why do you know, punk?" Bucky countered.
"Well, I had to tell someone so I could finally talk to you. Steve's the one who asked." You smiled at Steve again, trying to convey how grateful you were with just a look.
Steve smiled back at you, while everyone in else just shared a knowing look.
Eventually, Steve cleared his throat. "Buck, can you just come with us?"
Bucky nodded, moving to follow Steve while still eating the cobbler. You followed the two of them as well, growing more nervous with each step.
Steve lead you to his room, placing the box of scrapbooks on the bed.
"Do you want me to stay?" Steve looked to you for an answer.
You took a deep breath, in all honestly you would love for him to stay, but you think you should probably just talk to Bucky first.
"No, that's okay. Come back in like, 30 minutes?" You scrunched up your face, unsure if 30 minutes was long enough, but knowing you would need the deadline if you were ever going to explain it all to Bucky.
Steve nodded, squeezing your shoulder as he passed you to leave the room.
"Um," you turned to Bucky, trying to think of where to start. "I don't know what you already know about me, but-"
"Nothing really. Except that you make a delicious plum cobbler." He smiled, helping to ease your nerves. Food really was the way to this man's heart.
"Oh, I guess I'll start where I started when I told Steve." You smiled at the mention of his name, unaware of your own actions. But Bucky noticed.
"My parents died a few months ago." Bucky's eyes went wide, trying to think of what this could have to do with him. "Um, it was a car accident. They both died on the scene." You took a deep breath, trying to push through the sad parts.
"I had to clean out their house, and I found some scrapbooks that lead me to you." You shifted closer to the bed, looking through the scrapbooks you brought.
You pulled out the one with the first picture you showed Steve, opening it and gesturing for Bucky to take it.
He set the cobbler on Steve's nightstand, cautiously reaching for the book. He looked at the picture for a long time before saying anything. And when he did talk, it was a whispered "Becca..."
He ran his fingers over the picture slowly, just staring. A few minutes later, he eagerly flipped the page. He spent a good 10 minutes just looking through all the books you handed him.
"Where did you get these?" He questioned, although not accusingly.
"I found them in my parents house. They were with a bunch of my grandma's stuff that she had from her mom." You wanted to ease him into it.
"So your great grandma..." He trailed off, disbelief clear across his face.
"Was Rebecca Barnes." You finished the sentence for him, nerves clear in your voice.
You weren't sure what to say next, so you waited for him to make the next move.
"So you're my... great-grand niece?" You nodded at his question, still unsure if he was happy with the news. "God, that makes me feel old."
You nearly cackled, surprised by the joke. He smiled when you laughed, glad to have cleared some of the tension.
"Why did you want to find me?" He questioned, the mood turning more serious again.
"Well, I was really close to my parents. They were the only family I had. When I found out you are family too, I just... I knew I needed to at least tell you." You shrugged at the end, unsure if you really answered his question.
"You wanted to tell me so badly that you sat outside the compound every Saturday for five weeks even after being ignored?" He was in shock that anyone would spend that much time and effort just to talk to him. You started panicking immediately.
"I'm so sorry if you didn't want to know! It was selfish of me to force this on you. I can go, if you want. You don't have to talk to me." You started questioning everything. You moved to put the books back in the box when he stopped you.
"Oh, um. I'm sorry, you can keep those. If you want!" Tears were threatening to fall down your cheeks when you remembered the ring. You froze with your hand in the box, not knowing if you'd want to part with it knowing you'd never see Bucky again.
"Y/N..." Something in the way he said your name made you look at him. "I- I'm glad you told me. Really glad. I, uh, I never thought I would have family, well besides Steve. You know what I mean." He ran a hand through his hair, and you noticed the tears in his eyes.
"I don't want you to go. It's just hard for me..." he paused, trying to figure out his emotions. "It's hard to believe that someone would care about me that much."
"Bucky, I don't know you." He frowned at your statement. "But, I would love to get to know you." You smiled at him, trying to be reassuring.
"I'm not so sure you would." His face was hard, staring at the ground.
"Bucky, you aren't a bad person. I mean, sure you've done bad things, but it wasn't your choice. You were forced to do those things. You can't let yourself be defined by them. You're here aren't you?"
"Here?" He questioned.
"Working with the Avengers, I mean. You go on missions to help save people. That's your choice. That's who you are. I would be honored to get to know that person."
You smiled, waiting for him to say something.
"Are you sure?" He still looked unsure.
"God, maybe I get my stubbornness from you." You both laughed at that. "I am 100% sure."
"Wow." He shook his head, still in shock.
A knock sounded on the door before Steve came back in. "Is now a good time?" He asked, still standing in the doorway.
You nodded appreciatively. "Thank you." You pulled him into a hug, needing the emotional support.
"Of course. I'm happy I could help." He rubbed your back, reciprocating the hug. "Did you give him the ring yet?" He asked when you took a step back.
You shook your head, reaching into the box for the last item. "I, um, I thought you might want this." You handed him the box, nerves peaking through again.
He opened it, a soft smile on his face when he recognized it. "My mom's engagement ring."
You smiled, happy that he recognized it. "It was my mom's as well."
The two of you stared a the ring for awhile, reminiscing on time spent with your parents.
Eventually, Bucky picked the cobbler back up, not wanting to let it go to waste.
Steve couldn't help but roll his eyes at his friend. "Wow, jerk. You're just gonna go back to eating."
"Yes, punk. My great-grand niece made me a plum cobbler, and I tend to fully enjoy it."
"Great-grand niece. Ha, that makes you sound so old."
It was fun for you to see the two interacting like this, especially after the emotional hurdles you just ran.
"It's fine, Stevie. Let him enjoy the cobbler." Your face went red, not having meant to use the nickname.
"Yeah Stevie, let me enjoy the cobbler." Bucky couldn't help but poke fun, knowing there was an unspoken attraction between the two of you.
Somehow your face got even redder. Steve just rolled his eyes.
"Fine, eat your cobbler. Only because I had some of the apple one and it was delicious. It would be a shame to waste any."
You smiled at the compliment, embarrassment subsiding a bit. Steve sat down on the bed between you and Bucky, eager to ask his friend about some of the pictures. Steve put his arm around you, squeezing your shoulder as he spoke to Bucky.
You felt your eyes growing heavy, exhausted since your nerves kept you up most of the night. You rested your head on Steve's shoulder, soaking in his warmth as you cuddled closer.
Steve just rubbed your arm like it was the most natural thing in the world. Bucky narrowed his eyes at the interaction, realization dawning on his face.
"Oh my god. My best friend likes my great-grand niece. And she likes him." He said it so matter of fact, the two of you didn't bother denying it. You just smiled, and cuddled closer together.
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divinefireangel · 4 years ago
Text
They Just Don't Know You
Soft Yandere! Seo Moon-Jo x F! Reader
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Disclaimer: This is just a work of fiction. If this piece of fan fiction is offensive to any celebrity, fandom or culture please let me know so I can take it down. Also note that this is my version of a character or celeb, which will vary from person to person.
Author's Note: A 2nd longer fic for our lovely cannibalistic psychopath. I hate that I'm attracted to him. Someone please be my therapist. Or psychiatrist. Honestly doesn't matter. My brain is fucked anyway.
Copyright: Please note that this is my work and if you want to publish this on any other platform, take my permission before doing so. Taking an author's work and posting it somewhere else without any intimation is just disrespectful. I readily welcome suggestions and criticisms. That being said, Happy reading! 🤍
Warnings: 16+ and written for female reader, but all can read. (nothing specified with respect to appearance, etc of reader). Except that I've mentioned reader is short, cuz LDW is tall 🥰. There is a brief mention of sex, but no actual smut. Reader kinda highkey hates on her parents and younger sister. Read it to know. Age gap between reader and Moon-Jo. Slight obsessive thoughts. Manipulative words. I tried to put plot twist in the end, probably you won't notice it 💀. Please please tell me if I need to add more warnings. Do not read if you start to feel uncomfortable. I apologize in advance 🥺
❗❗PLEASE READ WARNINGS ❗❗
Pre-Requisite / Summary: Just a fic based on the song They Just Don't Know You by Little Mix. After watching Strangers from hell I related this song to him for some reason. Reader and Moon-Jo are in an established relationship. And reader's loved ones don't approve.
2.3k ish words My longest fic till date 🥳
" You know that he's too old for you. You can settle for younger, much younger guys for your age sweetheart. If you can't find anyone eligible enough, we will find one for you. And you don't even know if he has intentions of marrying you. What if all he wants is just a fling or some time pass relationship. Hmm? What are you going to do then? "
Sipping her tea silently, Y/N sat next to her dad on the porch swing, listening to all the criticisms he had about Moon-Jo. All his words did was boil her blood. But what could she do when they don't walk in her shoes? They don't know how safe and content she feels when he kisses her like she's the only girl for him in the entire universe. And no point in explaining that to her father anyway. She's tried. And failed. Multiple times.
"Are you done with your tea?" She asks her dad, in desperate attempt to try and get away from him and his words because she knows, and even he knows that it's going to end up in a fight if they continue to speak on the same topic.
Humming yes, he hands her his tea cup which she takes to the kitchen so she can help her mom with dinner. Placing them in the sink upon entering the kitchen, Y/N drags her palms down her face in frustration.
" I could hear what he said you know. Your dad. He's not wrong. Seo Moon-Jo seems like he'll break your heart in three. And we're only looking out for you Y/N. You don't have to go through heartbreak when you can very well avoid it." Her mom finished slowly.
" Why. Why is it so difficult for you to accept the fact that I'm actually in a happy relationship for once in my life. So what if he's much older than I am? He's a dentist. A doctor. A very good profession and he's known and well respected in his neighbourhood too. " Y/N said loud enough for her dad also to hear.
Huffing in annoyance she left the kitchen to go upstairs to her room. Or rather the room she shares with her sister. Of course the door is wide open. The younger rascal is always here for the drama.
Ever since Y/N came out to her family about her relationship with Moon-Jo, her sister has become the favourite child, for obvious reasons. And now eavesdropping with the door wide open? That's a new low. But what else can Y/N expect from such a low life who is literally thriving off her own sister's pain and suffering.
When entering the room, Y/N realizes how big a mistake it was to visit her family. And she did not need such snark from a younger, less experienced child.
"Are you that blinded by " Love " that you don't even see how weird his hair is? A man who isn't an idol or actor doesn't need such long hair. He's clearly a fuckboy. Or man whore. Whichever is right. " She said with disgust.
'She's just jealous. She's just a jealous bitch. They all are.' Y/N thinks to herself.
" At least one of us gets laid regularly. And just so you know, it's absolutely heavenly when he makes me cum over and over on his fingers and his dick-" Y/N said as her tone slowly got lower and darker and her emotion angrier.
Screaming and covering her ears, the younger girl ran downstairs to her mother, no doubt to tattle on her older sister. Rolling her eyes, Y/N started packing her things, all of them, in a bag she took down from the top shelf of the wardrobe.
It's really difficult to leave one's family, but it is clearly getting more and more tiresome to love them nowadays. If it's so wrong to date him, why does Y/N herself not see it? She's a logical and smart young lady. Does her family hate that man so much that they don't even want her to be happy? No matter who she's with. And is it so bad to date a man who's older? Richer? And cares more about her than all of her family members combined?
Wiping the fallen tear stains from her cheek, she just thinks to herself ' They just don't know him. They just don't know him like I do. '
Sending a text to her lover, saying that she misses him and that she's coming back home sooner than planned, Y/N carries her bag through the front door, her parents and sister ignoring her as she leaves and walks out that door one final time.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Once reaching their shared apartment, Y/N collapsed into her lover's arms the moment he opens the door, crying her eyes out. Seeing his lover in turmoil, shedding a tear or two of his own, Moon-Jo carries her to the living room couch to cradle her like a child who needs attention.
" They- They said -"
" Shh my darling. I know. " Moon-Jo said, shushing his girlfriend and giving her a shoulder to cry on. Once she's calmed a little, her sobs turning to sniffs, she lifts her head to meet his gaze.
Seeing her sad, tear stained eyes always upset him. More than anything in the world. Running his long slender fingers across her cheeks and jaw, he removes her hair from her ponytail with his free hand and rests it on her thigh.
" Tell me. Please tell me that you won't break my heart like them. That you won't try to tear my world apart like them. " Y/N looked desperately at him, wanting so badly to know that he's not just using her.
Those words, that slipped out her mouth, shocked Moon-Jo, to say the least. What did he do wrong? What did her family fill her head with?
Tilting his head to a little, he looks into her red eyes, trying to read her mind for a moment, all the while she just looked at him with the same desperate expression.
"Please tell me that you will be there when I need you the most. " Y/N whispered so softly, she herself barely heard it. But the end of the sentence, she started crying all over again.
Taking her head to his neck, he stroked her hair and her sides, trying to calm her down.
" Darling. I promise with my everything, that I will never leave you, I will never ever let you go. That I will do anything, anything necessary to prove my love to you. "
"No, oh dear no. That's not, you don't have- have to do anything at all to make me believe you love me. I'm sorry I asked such a stupid question. " She sobbed out.
Shushing her softly again, he rocks their bodies back and forth, till she's calmed and fallen asleep there, in his arms. Knowing that his arms are her only safe place for her from now on, he takes her delicate figure to the bedroom.
Placing her on her side of the bed, he lays down on his. Staring at her stunning face, he feather touches her face with his fingertips, memorizing every curve, every little detail on her, like a sculptor admiring his work and giving it the finishing touches.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
" So, I did a little digging on your sugar daddy. "
" Why?! And he's not my sugar daddy. " Y/N said in disbelief. No. Not her dear best friend too.
" I know you said not to and I'm sorry. But I am worried about you. He made you leave your family Y/N. " They stated with worry and sympathy.
" No. He didn't make me leave them. I left them by choice. They don't see him like I do. And clearly, they hate that I'm happy with him. " Y/N finished as they sat down at the lunch table.
" Y/N..... "
" What? Even you don't want me to be happy? " She questioned her friend in disbelief. Laughing sarcastically Y/N shook her head.
" I've heard rumours! Okay? He was in the orphanage that had that severe fire explosion. And most of the culprits from that incident are MIA. What if he's one of the people who caused it?! " They said in a whisper, worried that the neighbouring people can hear their conversation.
" Do you really think that? All of that is just a rumour. And he's told me about it. He's told me everything. Unlike my parents who so desperately tried to tie me down to an arranged marriage. "
" He's not good for you. I know you deserve better. Okay he may make happy and all but what if he leaves? What if he just uses you and drops you like you were nothing? We're just trying to make sure you don't get hurt Y/N. Physically and emotionally. " They finished.
" This, all what you said, is cheap talk. But it'll eventually wear down because when we get married and have kids and all that in the future, you're all going to look like fools. And I will proudly say ' I told you so '. "
" If that's the case then I am the happiest person for you. Hopefully I won't have to be the one to say ' I told you so'. "
" Wow. I, just- hah. Wow. Just wow. " She paused.
" You know, I really hoped you would be more supportive or at least tolerant enough to have patience and support me with my decision for my love. " Y/N said loud enough for eavesdroppers to hear audibly.
Of all the people she would have to drop, never even in her nightmares had she fathomed that her best friend would be one.
Getting up from the table, she picks up her bag and leaves without another word, and goes to the only place that has love for her and that accepts her.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Reaching home, Y/N notices the place empty. Maybe he's at the clinic?
Shrugging off her bag and jacket she sits on the couch for a moment, before her restlessness takes over and she begins pacing in the living room.
Why are people being like this? Do they hate her so much? They barely know him. Why are they treating and accusing him to be such a criminal! He's not. He takes care of Y/N so much. He loves her so much. He provides for her. He's affectionate with her, more than he's told he thought capable. He's become her ride or die. And she, his.
They don't know him like I do. They will never love me like he does.
They don't know about the love they have. The just see what they want to see. Bloody society dictating whom to love and whom to not. Is it so hard to see the love they have for each other? Can't they just let it be. They don't know the turmoil she's gone through recently; they don't know how well he's taken care of her, kept her happy and same enough to not let her intrusive thoughts get the best of her.
Her thoughts interrupted by the door clicking open. Smiling, Moon-Jo enters with a box, surely containing sweets from her favourite bakery. How can you not love someone so considerate, who does things for you without even having to ask.
Seeing the sad look upon his lover's face, Moon-Jo's smile fades into a frown.
" What's wrong my dear? "
Smiling sadly Y/N just shakes her head, conveying that she doesn't want to talk about it.
Placing the box of sweets on the coffee table, the two hug each other, feeling of comfort taking over them both. She can just stay here, forever, in his arms till the world ends.
" Babe. What's wrong? You can tell me anything. Anything at all. I'll take care of the problem. " Delicately Moon-Jo cradles Y/N's head in his palms, making her face up to him, their height difference evident.
Sighing, she moves to sit on the couch, motioning him to do the same. " It's just people. And what they say. My family was one thing, but my best friend, the person I chose as my family " Pausing Y/N breathers the tears back in, " They were doubtful of you today. How can I live knowing that no one will approve of us? " Y/N questioned looking at him.
" Does their opinion really matter that much? So much so that you are skeptical of my affection to you? " Coldly, he moved back from his seat on the couch.
" No! No. Gosh that is not what I mean. Not at all. I love you and I know that you love me. So much. So much so I would die for you. But there are other people whom I care about. Who's opinions matter to me. And I don't want to let them go. As happy as I am with you, I need them too. They give me joy in a different way, that is important. "
" Do I not make you happy? Are you not content with the love I give you? Is it not enough? " He asks carefully.
" That's not what I meant! You love me more than anyone I've known. "
"Then what's the problem? You don't need those people who don't love you. You have me. You will have me forever and ever. I will never leave you. And you will never leave me either. We'll be with each other till the end of the world darling. "
Nodding with a small smile you looked down at your feet.
Unhappy with your action, Moon-Jo pulls your face up by your chin to look at him with such force, it scared you a little, making your heart skip a beat in fear.
" Do you not love me, babe? " He asked tilting his head to a side, his expression mildly offended.
" I do! I love you. So much. " You finished with a soft tone, cupping his face with your hands.
Grinning like a Cheshire Cat, Moon-Jo leaned down to capture your lips with his. Reacting immediately, you kissed him with as much energy and sincerity you could muster, as you head filled with thoughts of doubt.
Had your parents been right? Had for friend been right? Had they all been right all along and you too blind to see?
No. It can't be. He loves you. He's said that so many times. And you love him.
You love him.
You.
Love.
Him.
...
Do you love him, or have you been illusioned into loving him?
732 notes · View notes
studiojeon · 3 years ago
Text
bitterness in goodbye | jjk
this is part of my troubled outsiders series. sadly, you can't read this as a stand alone (meaning: feel free to check the previous parts ♡)
| summary | - You can’t help but feel a little sad when Jungkook doesn’t refrain from cuddling your arm after pleading to forgive him. You wish you could cuddle him instead, that he would lay his head on your chest as you play with his soft hair, but you recognize there are some things you just can’t have.
warnings: none (?) i mean chaeryeong insults jungkook which is an atrocity in itself but-
contents: we diving into the angst my friends. jungkook is an innocent, kind hearted soul, i promise. oc's got the feels (out oct. 1) for jk. idol!jungkook × student!reader.
author's note: I EDITTED THIS FROM MY PHONE DO YOU UNDERSTAND HOW FUCKING ANNOYING THAT IS? also, thank u for the amount of support i've been receiving lately, i appreciate everyone lots. feel free to ask away or suggest anything btw, i would love to write for any prompts you guys come up with. 💞💗💖💘💓💕
words: 1.57k
playlist: honey by halsey
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Four weeks later, the receptionist of your apartment complex hands you over a cardboard box with the hoodie Jungkook and you had talked about that day on the Han River. Jungkook kept pestering you to please please please send him your address for confidential purposes, which you knew had to do with his determination to literally provide anything that catches your eye right away. You assumed it was a sensitive topic for the boy whether people had purposefully taken advantage of his money before, so you didn’t dare to say anything when the man asked you for your size literally two hours after he dropped you off, scared to either reject his solidare intentions or piss him off for bringing unwanted memories back. In  your defense, your personality type keeps oscillating between INFP and INFJ so it’s only natural that you take extra care to make sure those around you have as much peace of mind as possible in your presence. 
As pretty and comfortable the piece of soft clothing is, an important factor is missing, something that you can’t recreate buying two of the same size and color, and that is Jungkook's escence and how good it looks on him in comparison to anyone else in the world. Meaning, you didn’t like it as much as you thought initially would. And it absolutely did not have to do with the fact that your short stature made you look like a toddler who stole their dad’s jacket.
Still, in order to show Jungkook how much you appreciate his gift, you bring it to work the next day, and the rest of the days after that, with the excuse that with winter rolling around you needed something to keep you warm in the office. Jungkook doesn’t miss the opportunity to confirm your assumptions regarding your appearance whenever he barges into your office randomly throughout the week, arguing that ”you look so adorable” and doesn’t stop for two weeks more, until he gets used to seeing you wearing something you shared with him. Which doesn’t help ease your growing romantic feelings for him whatsoever.
Because yeah, you liked Jeon Jungkook, just like every human being with eyes and sexual desires, except, you didn’t just like him in a superficial way, and that’s where the problem with him resides. Though you are sure everyone has fallen in love with the endearing boy at some point - especially the excluded and invalidated women of society - you can’t help but place some blame on you for allowing yourself to be swooned so goddamn easily. Your mom had said to you at some point to be wary of the way some men would talk to you when you grew up, their intention usually being getting inside your pants, which has happened to you more times than you'd like to admit. And with the argument that she knew you better than anyone, she claimed you would comply right the second someone talked sweet to you; you despised the fact that was the case with Jungkook (and Jungkook only), although he had never shown any sexual innuendos. What your feelings could do to your relationship with Jungkook and your rather chill lifestyle scared you to death, shiver me timbers and all that shit, having romantic feelings for someone else is embarrassing, especially when your chance with them has been scratched out the second you laid eyes on them.
Jungkook sits on your couch, legs spread on your thighs as you two pretend to watch some series on netflix. “I don’t buy for a second the act you’re putting on right now.” he speaks randomly after staring at your deep-in-thought state for a few minutes and laughs when you snap at him for not letting you overthink in peace. “What’s going on?”
Truth is, you don’t fucking know. A few hours before he arrived at your place (you had to pick him up at the dorm and sneak the both of you through the subterranean parking lot, because god forbid someone saw Jungkook arriving at some chick’s dorm on a saturday afternoon) you swore you would be able to conceal whatever emotional turmoil you had going inside of you without compromising your regular behaviour around the man, but when push comes to shove, it’s impossible to keep yourself from wondering how far you could go before that special someone found out what was going on inside of your head.
Jungkook’s phone rings in his pocket with some annoying tone he had downloaded illegally from youtube the same day the company had handed over the device as a gift for him (you still were a little bitter over how they neglected the rest of the staff but you also knew it was kind of impossible for the human kind to just gift a-thousand-dollar-phones to almost five hundred people out of solidarity). “Hyung?” he picks up, still wary of your unusual behaviour, concerned eyes looking at you. “No, uh- i’m with Yugyeom right now.” and your heart shatters into a million pieces.
You have been suspecting for a while that Jungkook is being hesitant to introduce you to his social circle. Although, you’ve tried your best not to take it personal, it is getting harder to resist the urge to ask him what the fuck is up with that. The fact that Jungkook had to lie about the person he was hanging out with broke your ego; he could’ve just said he was with a friend, right? You suddenly feel like you’re fifteen again, when the guy you liked would love you in the dark but pretend he didn’t know you in the light. 
Holding your tears back, you gently push him off and make your way towards the bathroom in the most nonchalant way you could. This is your fault for falling for the nice popular guy in the first place, you remind the reflection staring back at you. Still, as bad as it hurt, there was no way you were going to cry over a stupid boy, let alone when he was literally sat on the next room. He can go fuck himself if he thinks he can just toss this behind as if nothing ever happened.
You text Chaeryeong instead.
“chaery bom bom: i swear to god i gonna throw hands the next time i see the bitch.
chaery bom bom: like who the hell does he think he is? fucking squidward looking asshole.
chaery bom bom: he ain’t even that cute bub, you’ll get over him. i know jinyoung wouldn’t treat you like this”
You sigh. Chaeryeong has been enamored with the idea of you and his former company colleague from GOT7 since the day she met the guy (which was somewhere around ten years ago), and although he was all that, you didn’t like his quiet and cold aura, it intimidated the fuck out of you (Jungkook was the entire opposite of that).
You spray on some perfume just to have an excuse as to why you randomly ran to the bathroom when Jungkook’s inquiring eyes stare as you sit back on the couch, which is exactly what he does. “You done with your call?” you ask, bitter.
Jungkook frowns, a bit taken aback by the sudden question but still unaware of the way his words had made you feel, not even sensing the hostile change in your mood. “Yes, it was one of our managers. He was wondering if I could come back to reshoot some...-thing.”
Okay, now you kind of understand as to why he lied in the first place and to say you feel guilty is an understatement. “I supposed he backed down once you mentioned you were hanging out with Yugyeom.” playfulness makes its appearance on your tone and Jungkook rolls his eyes at you, tongue poking on the inside of his slightly red cheeks.
“Sorry for that” he moves closer and cuddles your arm, like a sad guilty puppy. “It’s just- I don’t want them asking questions''.
You understand. He is a very reserved and private person after all. It took you a bit to crack him open yourself. Plus, you kind of share that trait with him, you’d hate it too if people were constantly on your nerves for the people you decide to hang out with. 
And that’s all it takes to forgive him. Not very cash money of you.
“You better not pull that shit again, though” you shift in his hold and he looks up at you. One look into your eyes and he knows what you mean. “I’ll kick you out.”
After nodding, Jungkook resumes his concentration on the series you picked out for him. Due to your short attention span, you are very picky about what you invest your time in, especifically with audiovisual pieces of media, so Jungkook trusts you whenever you recommend something on very rare occasions. As a matter of fact, Jungkook was busy attacking your kitchen counters for snacks (which you didn’t have) when you mentioned Money Heist. “Munch on some grapes instead” you suggested to soothe his disappointment.
You can’t help but feel a little sad when Jungkook doesn’t refrain from cuddling your arm after pleading to forgive him. You wish you could cuddle him instead, that he would lay his head on your chest as you play with his soft hair, but you recognize there are some things you just can’t have.
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that1fanficwriter · 3 years ago
Text
A Night of Chaos
This lovely idea was requested by @bisexualbumblebeeblogs thank you! As always my asks are open to anyone! Feel free to drop by with a request, a question, or just to chat!
Pairing: Jonny Goodman x reader
AN: this isn’t based off of a singular episode I just put together some of my favorite antics to create absolute chaos. Also, I am currently on mobile so I am not able to add a keep reading even though it is very long.
As you stomped up the driveway to the Goodman’s house in the pouring rain you noticed an additional car terribly parked on the front stoop. Instead of trying to get to the front door you decided to just trudge around the side entrance to the kitchen. Before you could get to the door you noticed a man standing in the shadows that looked suspiciously like “the father: Martin Goodman.”
“Uncle Martin, what are you doing out here?” You called out to him.
“Ah hello my dear, there was a perfectly good loaf of bread that Jackie threw away. It only had a few moldy bits on it but she wouldn’t let me eat it in the house because we have company.” He explained.
“I see. Well, if you’re finished with your “perfectly good” moldy bread I can let you in.” You suggest.
“That would be lovely Y/N thank you. How has your relationship been doing with your male?” He inquires as you unlock the door.
“Ugh, god, not this again.” You groan, as you step inside. “Hi Aunty Jack!” You call out, as you blatantly disregard Martin’s previous question.
“Hi love! What a lovely surprise! What brings you around in this weather?”
“Mum is fighting with Larry for the third time this evening. I can’t take much more of it.”
“Well why don’t we get you out of your wet jacket and I’ll get you a cuppa. How does that sound?”
“That would be lovely Aunty Jack, thank you.”
“Of course love. Jonny and Adam are in the living room if you want to join them; please make sure they behave themselves.” She says before turning to Martin trying to sneak out of the kitchen, “MARTIN! Stop wearing your little miss muffet boots in the house! It’ll ruin my clean carpet!”
You quickly take your own wet shoes off and drop them by the front door before making your way to the living room.
“Ah hello puss face!” You say while sitting on Adam “and Jonny, the one I hate the least! How are you lads doing this fine and gloomy evening?” You ask, moving to sit between the two brothers with a cheery smile on your face.
“Come on Y/N, you know you love me.” Jonny says while trying to squeeze every last breath out of you.
“Yeah, I guess I do love you quite a bit JonJon.” You tease.
“How have Mum and Dad not figured out you two idiots are together yet?” Adams asks, flabbergasted.
“We’ll your dad is about as observant as a brick.” You state.
“Yeah, and we just avoid Mum all together.” Jonny adds.
“Oh Y/N dear, I didn’t know you were popping round.” Nellie says as she enters the living room.
“Grandma Nellie! I didn’t know you were here either! It is so good to see you again.” You say as you get up to give her a hug. “Who else is here?” You ask everyone, “I’m guessing you’re not the company Uncle Martin was referring to when he told me Aunty Jack made him eat his moldy bread out in the rain.”
“That would be Lou!” Nellie informs you.
“He’s her “lover”.” Jonny tells you with disgust.
Just then a short man, very formally dressed, walks into the living room. You make the educated and accurate guess that the angry looking man before you is Grandma Nellie’s Lou.
“Who are you?” He asks you.
You barely have time to tell him your name before he’s asking more questions.
“Why are you here? Are you dating the gerbil or the bean stalk?” He barks at you.
“My mum Val and I are close friends with the Goodmans and we live just down the street. My mum was fighting with her boyfriend again and so I decided to come over here instead of hearing that racket.” You explain.
“Alright, and are you dating little or large?” He asks you again.
You try incredibly hard not to laugh at the ridiculous names Lou is calling Adam and Jonny but one rogue chortle makes its way past your lips.
“What’s so funny?” Lou glares.
“I’m sorry, it’s just the nicknames you’ve given Adam and Jonny are hilarious!” You laugh.
“You filthy punk rockers are ridiculous!” Lou tells all three of you before sitting back down by Nellie.
“Is everything all right in here?” Jackie asks as she pops her head into the living room.
“We’re fine Mum.” Jonny says.
“Yeah, Y/N is just having a laugh at the terrible names Mr. Morris has been calling Jonny and I.” Adam adds.
“Alright, we’ll, dinner is almost done so if you all would like to come through to the dining room?” Jackie suggests. As everyone is moving to the dining room the doorbell rings. “Y/N, would you please check who’s at the door?” Jackie asks you.
“Of course Aunty Jack!” You call out to her. “I’ll be right back; save me a seat.” You whisper to Jonny before heading to the door.
“Hello Jackie?”
“Hi Jim.” You say, trying to stay pleasant.
“You’re not Jackie?” He asks.
“No, I’m not. I live just down the road.” You answer.
“Ah, I see. And you’re friends with…”
“Jonny.” You begin to say.
“Jonny, the short”
You cut him off; “the taller one.”
“Yes, the taller one.”
“What do you need Jim?”
“I wanted to return some fish Jackie so graciously let me borrow a few weeks ago.”
“Ok; well why don’t I just go fetch her real quick. Just wait here Jim.” You rush back to the kitchen to ask Jackie to deal with Jim. “Aunty Jack, Jim’s here to see you. See said he wanted to return some fish he borrowed a few weeks ago?”
“Of course he has to return week old fish right now.” Jackie complains “Why don’t you go ahead through to the dining room and I’ll bring everything in in a few minutes.” She tells you.
Once you walk into the dining room, you move to sit down at the corner beside Jonny before you notice Nellie and Lou eating each other’s faces right at the table.
“What is happening? And why is it happening at the table?” You exclaim.
“Grandma and Mr. Morris are snogging; again.” Adam groans in disbelief.
“Why does this happen every time? Just make it stop. I’d rather gouge my eyes out than watch this again.” Jonny complains.
But before anyone else can continue to complain the door bell rings again.
“I’m going to go check on that.” Jonny says, jumping out of his seat.
“I’m coming with you! I can’t stand to be in this room any longer.” You say.
“Me too!” Adam jumps out of his seat.
You all rush out of the dining room eager to get away from the Nellie and Mr. Morris. The three of you scurry down the hall and as Jonny opens the door to your mother sobbing on the stoop.
“Larry broke up with me!” She wales.
“Again? Mum, you can’t keep doing this.” You say, utterly disappointed.
“I know. Where’s Jackie?”
“She’s talking with Jim in the kitchen.” Adam says.
Everyone makes their way to the kitchen following behind a sobbing Val.
“Hi Jackie.” Val says, still crying.
“Another Jackie?” Jim asks perplexed.
“No Jim, that’s just my friend Val. You’ve met before.” She tells Jim. “I don’t think now is really a good time to continue this so why don’t you head home?”
“Oh Val what’s happened? Is everything alright.” Jackie asks Val.
“Nothing new happened,” you tell everyone, “Larry just broke up with her again.”
“Oh Val, I’m so sorry!” Jackie exclaims, embracing Val, “That’s just horrible. I can’t believe he broke up with you again!”
“Oh my god, let’s just go sit in the living room.” You suggest to the boys.
“Good idea, I can’t take much more of this crying.” Adam says.
Once you make your way to the living room you all are about to sit down when Martin bursts in from the garage, covered in something strange and without a shirt (surprise surprise).
“Dad, what happened?” Jonny asks in disbelief.
“Ah hello bambinos. Now don’t tell your mother but I accidentally threw away some of my old things that I told her I’d get rid of.”
“So then why are you covered in that?” You inquire.
“Ah well, I didn’t mean to throw everything out so then I had to go into the bin to get everything out.”
“Yes, that makes total sense.” Adam announces to the room.
“Well, I’d better head back to the garage, I need to finish taking everything to the shed.” Martin says.
“We are never going to be fed are we!” Adam says.
“The three of us could just go for a chinese and not tell anyone?” Jonny suggests.
“That sounds like a great idea. I’ll drive.” You say “Grab all your stuff and let’s get out of here before someone sees us.”
248 notes · View notes
Note
I have a request for a smut for Mitch Rapp and a fem!reader: basically enemies to lovers. They (think they) hate each other but in reality they just REALLY wanna shag each other (Stan kinda suspects it). The seggssual tension between them grew to the point where neither can take it anymore and they shag! That's it for the plot. Feel free to make it the filthiest piece of filth that has ever seen the filth of day. They can punch the other, kick the other, pull the others hair! I am a okay with either of them getting staped. Biting and scratching are on the table. They can use fire... I hope you can turn this to a smut for me. I really enjoy reading your smuts!
also:
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pairing: mitch rapp x fem!reader
warnings: smut → seggsual tension that can be cut with a knife, oral (male receiving), degrading kink, rough penetrative sex, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it).
word count: 1.4k
a/n: ahh omg i love the b9-9 reference!!
+ i've added this other request here too bc they had the same vibe to it - hope that's okay anon!
++ also [y/l/n] means your last name (but i think we've all read fanfics long enough to know that lmao)
•:•.•:•.•:•:•:•:•:•:•:• ☾ ☼ ☽ •:•.•:•.•:•:•:•:•:•:•:•
requests for the sleepover are open🖤!
request guidelines here✨!
smut night masterlist
🌻masterlist🌻
taking in Mitch’s attire for the first time that night, it was apparent to you that Mitch was quite the attractive man.
But Mitch rapp was anything but attractive. He was repulsive. Rude. Had nearly gotten you killed so many times on a mission due to his inability to stick to plans, especially if they were made by you.
His tie hangs lose around the white collared button down shirt. His blazer thrown onto the couch that he planned to sleep on. Stan suggested that you share a room, never knowing nor predicting when the bad guys could attack. It was better, and safer, for the two of you to stay together.
Slipping the tie from around his neck, he throws it to wear his blazer lays, his eyes darting up to you. You, sitting cross-legged on the bed, quickly averted eye contact. You hear a slight huff of amusement coming from him, which only makes you roll your eyes. God, what you would do to share a room with literally anyone but him.
Your pj shirt hung low on your chest - almost a little bit too low. Mitch, for only a second, glances at your cleavage. His mind wanders into places he’s never really though that hard about before. He wanders what it would be like to suck those perfect tits of yours. If it wasn’t for the tv, he would’ve made an awkward coughing sound to release some of the built up tension in the room. You can feel the tension too. Building and building. The room getting hotter with each breath you took. You stand from the bed, going over to the small tea station to turn on the kettle.
“Want some tea?” You ask, not daring to look at him. For some unknown reason, you’re afraid to.
“sit.” He demands, his eyes glaring into you with such intensity. You return the glare, clenching your jaw as he nods to the bed.
“Why?”
“We need to talk about what happened today-"
“We have nothing to talk about. You did your usual shit and I did mine.”
“Don’t speak to me like that.”
“Like what? At least I’m not the one trying to get us all killed,” you spat, folding your arms over your chest. Mitch stalks over to you, his eyes dark with lust.
“Say that again. I dare you,” his voice is so low, you’re not sure if it scares you or turns you on.
“You always try to get us killed. That’s why your plans never work." you try so hard not to falter your voice, but he’s making it so difficult when he’s standing in front of you, with such a dominant demeanour, you thought you might as well submit to him now. He knocks your legs apart with his knee.
“Same could be said about you. Just remember that,” he growls in your ear. Without thinking, you grab him by the collar and thrash him down on the bed beside you. You stable him, pinning his wrists beside his head.
“Now, miss feisty. Might want to save your energy for tomorrow,” he chuckles, not even the least surprised that you’ve just done that.
“Don’t patronise me, rapp. You’re lucky I don’t just kill you now,” you purr in his ear, feeling his hips knock against yours. The feeling of his hardening cock poking at your thigh is something you’d never thought you’d ever get to experience with him.
Mitch flips you over, you know the grip on your wrist is going to bruise. "don't forget that i'm just as capable, darling."
roughly, he pushes off you, unzipping the pants of his suit. His jaw clenched, skin so hot and heated you can see the veins protruding through his hands.
"suck." he demands through gritted teeth. Your jaw drops as you just stare at him. he couldn't be serious? His eyebrows raise in anticipation - the same look he gives our targets when they try and plead their case to let them live.
You sigh, pushing yourself off the bed and onto the floor. Your hand pumps his cock up and down slowly, wanting to test the waters a little bit - or so you told yourself.
"[y/n], dont." he spits out, roughly gripping your hair in a makeshift ponytail. Without needing to be told twice, you take him in your mouth, gagging as he thrusts into your mouth. he couldn't even for a second let you be in control. typical man.
You bob your head faster, moaning around him at the tight grip he still has in your hair.
"you like when im rough with you, huh? you dirty little slut." His jaw clenches as you clasp your hand around his wrist. "get up."
you do as you're told, and stand on your feet. Roughly and hasty, he practically rips your pjs off before pushing you on the bed.
"don't make me get the tie, [y/l/n]," he smirks as he hovers over you. You gulp and wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him down into a rough kiss. He may be on top, but you can still be in charge.
HIs hand snakes down between your bodies, teasing and toying at your clit. He pinches it gently, clenching his jaw to restrain a dark laugh as you breathe heavily against him, not wanting to make a sound. you were not about to give him that satisfaction.
his calloused fingertips circle heavenly around your clit. He wants you to at least let out one moan, and he was going to make you do it - whatever it takes.
He leans back, eyes burning into your soul as he watches you. You bite your tongue from within your mouth, restraining every ounce of your body to not contort in pleasure.
"i could make this easy for you, you know. you're choice," he arches an eyebrow in amusement, his finger slipping into your entrance with such ease.
"oh please," you scoff, rolling your eyes in annoyance - although you're sure it was from the pleasure rather than his haughtiness.
"fine," he practically rips his hand away, you bottom lip immediately receding into your teeth to control the whines that wanted to come out. He wasted no time in lining himself up at your entrance. You look at him with pleading eyes, to which he catches before he slides in.
His thrusts are slow at first, wanting to tease you as much as possible.
"oh come on. even i can do better than that," you challenge, pushing him off before straddling his hips. You sink down on him, his hands on your ass. He kneads them before slapping hard as you bottom out. An unexpected yelp slips from you, followed a dark chuckle comes from him.
You bounce roughly on him, leaning back on your hands as they rest on his thighs. His hands trail all over your body, wanting to explore very inch possible. He'd never admit it, to himself or especially you, but he's always wanted to do this. So of course, he's not wasting any opportunity. as far as you've both silently agreed, this is a one time thing.
Mitch slaps your breast, causing another yelp to escape from your swollen and desperate lips. You sink all the way down on his cock until he's completely inside you, before gyrating your hips. Both of you moan loudly, the pleasure feeling all too right to not let out a sound.
Roughly, mitch picks you up and places you on the bed next to him before he holds your legs up to his chest. He thrusts into you and fucks you hard - slow, but hard.
"fuck, oh my god," you give in to the pleasure, his cock feeling all too good not to.
"see, that wasn't so hard was it?" Mitch's malicious teasing causes you to roll your eyes but once again let out a moan. the wall takes it from the bedframe, thumping intensively with each hard thrust of his hips. Both of you couldn't control your moans, and it was only a matter of time before the next door guests came knocking on the door to complain.
The two of you are close - much closer than either of you liked to be. Mitch knew it too, from the way you clenched around his cock, you moans becoming louder and more high-pitched. He spreads your legs apart, which you gracelessly wrapped around his waist to draw him in closer. His hand, once again slips between you both and rubs your clit in circles.
"mitch..." you breathe, scratching your nails mercilessly down his back.
"let it go, babygirl," he grunts before leaning down towards you ear. "at least i'll have the satisfaction of making you cum."
"don't get too cocky now. I'm still not finished with you yet."
292 notes · View notes
graniairish · 4 years ago
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Walking on eggshells
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So this is my first own story here. I hope it is written in an understandable way. (Please ignore any grammatical errors. English is not my mother tongue.)
Title: Walking on eggshells
Words: 6761
Warnings: language (some explicit words), harassment and insults, heartbreak
Summary:
Daryl and reader have been close friends since the early days in Atlanta. They are deeply in love with each other but have no clue about it.
At some point new people join the community, including a young woman who is immediately after Daryl.
Reader is not exactly thin, no size zero, but also not fat, rather curvy, feminine. Even in this apocalyptic time. (you are just the way you are.)
Daryl has withdrawn more and more from reader, avoids contact. Reader believes he does that because he now has a perfect woman by his side.
However, Daryl avoids reader because he does not know how to deal with his feelings.
One day reader goes on a run that goes wrong. To save their group, the reader does a suicide stunt, that can cost her life.
--------------------------------------------------
"Ya even know what ya're doin’?"
Those were the first words Daryl Dixon had ever said to you.
It was still at camp in Atlanta. Daryl stood over you, the sun behind him, as he looked down at you as you made a stew from a basket full of leaves and mushrooms.
“Believe it or not, I know what I'm doing here. My mother taught me as a child which mushrooms and plants are edible, and which can be used as medicine."
He nudged his nose up in a nod.
"If ya say so."
With that he dropped something in front of you.
"Maybe the whole thin’ tastes like somethin’ with that," he said before he turned around and made his way back to his brother.
Your eyes followed him - confused. Only then did you notice that he had thrown about a dozen freshly hunted squirrels in front of you.
Maybe the grumpy redneck was not that bad after all, you thought to yourself with a smile as you started to skin and gut the dead animals.
It was not long before a friendship developed between you. You were the only one he really let near him after the disappearance of his brother and Sophia's death. And after the farm was overrun by Walkers, he was by your side to comfort you.
He was always there for you, just as you were for him. You cared for each other.
But you only noticed how deep the feelings really were on your side when Daryl - after the incident with Woodbury - had turned his back on you and everyone else and disappeared into the woods. Just to be with his brother.
The realization that you were infinitely in love with the withdrawn redneck hit you hard. And just seeing him walk away hurt you so much that you could not breathe.
Without knowing it, Daryl had broken your heart into a million pieces.
It felt like he took a part of you with him.
More and more you withdrew from the others. From time to time, you even slept in the old management office of the Prison, far away from the cell block, from everyone else, from your family. You just wanted to be left alone in your grief and heartbreak.
In the first time you had gone through hell emotionally and a psychological breakdown would not have been long in coming. And if it had not been for Maggie, you probably would not have found your way back.
She had been your solid rock and, without you really noticing, had become your best friend - your sister.
And after a while it got better. It did not hurt that much anymore. Although it was not quite true. It still hurt - hurt infinitely - but the distances that those waves of grief hit you grew larger.
And then suddenly Daryl was back.
It was a shock to you.
And the moment he moved back into his cell in the cell block, you moved out. There was no trace of you or your belongings in the whole building anymore.
Quietly, and without anyone noticing, you moved into the management's office - permanently. The thought of being so close to him - physically - without actually being able to be close to him was just unbearable for you.
And so you had retreated.
Daryl did not seem to mind. It almost seemed as if he had not even really noticed it.
You hardly had any contact with each other. He rarely talked to you, and if he did, then only what was necessary and as monosyllabic as possible. He even seemed to be avoiding you.
But that's how life works - hard and unfair.
And you cannot choose who to fall in love with.
The greatest thing you’ll ever learn is just to love, and be loved in return. But it only worked like that in movies and love songs, right? It did not work that way in real life, at least not for you.
As time goes by you had devoted all your concentration to your small farm. Your mother taught you how to handle plants as a child. In your previous life - before the apocalypse - you also had a vegetable garden with which you mostly tended yourself. So you knew the job and it was easy for you.
You lived in your own little world where you worked side by side with Rick and spent your meager free time with Maggie. Sometimes Carol would join you, but you had already noticed that she somehow always dropped a few comments about Daryl.
You did not want to talk about the redneck, let alone think about him. So, you ignored her as best you could - or at least her suggestions.
But it was not that easy. Your whole prison family knew how deep your feelings were for Daryl. No matter how hard you try to hide it, hide yourself from it.
Then Woodbury fell. New people came to the Prison and with them a young woman - Michelle. Probably only in her mid-twenties, model type, blonde, pretty. A typical homecoming queen.
To you, she made it seem like she had never worked hard in her entire life. She was the type of person who always muddled through, for her own benefit.
And just a few days after moving in, she was permanently on Daryl's heels. She asked questions, talked to him, spent most of the days near him.
But worst of all, she was openly flirting with the man you loved, and he did not seem to mind. Your stomach cramped painfully at the sight, and you had not been able to eat for two days.
Your heart, painstakingly patched together, broke one more time. After that you had avoided Daryl and his blond girl for almost a week, avoided them like the devil had shunned holy water.
But it could not go on like that. And at a certain point you realized: as long as Daryl was happy, nothing else mattered. At least for you.
To make matters worse, there was that cruel little voice in your head that kept whispering to you why Daryl was interested in Michelle and not you. It kept talking to you, all the time.
And then the little wheels in your head started spinning until you were caught in a vortex of thoughts.
She was thin and delicate; you were rather well built.
Her shoulders were narrow; yours were broad.
Her stomach was flat; but you had unmistakable love handles.
She had a firm, shaped ass; you childbearing hips - as your mother used to call it.
Her golden blonde hair always fell in gentle waves down her back. You always had your y/h/c ones in a messy bun. And after hours of hard work in the gardens, you always looked like a half-plucked chicken.
You would never have any chance of comparing yourself with this beautiful, gorgeous woman. Michelle was perfect.
You were just you.
But the worst part of this whole thing was that this woman could not leave you alone. She had won, the man was hers. What else did she want from you?!
Every now and then she dropped small comments, out of the earshot of others. But so that you could hear them very well.
"Hard to believe how one can be so well fed.”
“Are you secretly eating your way through our supplies?"
"Given your size, a whole bunch of Walkers could get fed up with you for a week."
It hurt, hurt infinitely. But you were willing to endure everything. You did not want to make a scene. Did not want to get upset, maybe to draw more unwanted attention to yourself.
In the depths of your heart, you only wanted one thing. You just wanted Daryl to be happy. Everything else does not matter to you.
But what you failed to notice in all your self-doubt and self-sacrifice was: Daryl was not happy.
You were both blind to each other's intentions, had no idea why the other acted the way he was doing.
But the inner circle of your family, especially Maggie and Carol, knew what was going on. And having to watch the two of you - while you did not notice it yourself - slowly but surely drove everyone to despair.
The whole thing was like a fucking soap opera!
You and Daryl had barely spent time together and avoided each other as best you could, so you had not noticed all the little signs that spoke volumes to all the others.
How his ears turn red when you have been near him.
How he sometimes looked at you a little longer than others.
How he changed his shifts in the guard tower just so he could take care of you when you were near the fences during your work.
The moment Daryl faced you for the first time since his return, the floor was torn from under his feet. When he saw your y/e/c eyes looking at him, he felt his heart swell. Warmth spread in his chest and he had thousands of butterflies in his stomach. The redneck had never felt anything like that before and it terrified him.
It was something he could not handle.
He knew he screwed up when he left you because of his brother. The way you behaved towards him was unmistakable. Daryl did not want to endanger the little friendship that was still between you. He could not risk losing you for good.
So he gave you your freedom and just adored from a distance - without you noticing.
But from a certain point in time all his thinking was focused only on you. Or rather, to hide what he really felt about you - how much he loved you.
Daryl was so busy hiding the love he felt for you that he did not even notice how much this young woman from Woodbury was constantly flirting with him. Of course, it had not escaped him that she ran after him like a lost puppy; and yes that annoyed him.
But weren't all of these newcomers a pain in the ass?
He was not interested in this blonde woman, not a little bit. Daryl does not care about her; he does not even listen to her most of the time.
If he was honest, he did not even know her name.
---------------------------------
In the last few weeks, it had become routine for the redneck to be on guard duty in the early hours of the morning. Not just because he was an early riser- and finally got some peace up here from the intrusive people from Woodbury - but because you went to work in the vegetable gardens shortly after sunrise every day.
And from high up there he had the opportunity to watch and admire you unnoticed.
You have always been used to working hard, and everyone who saw you knew that you had no problem with it and that you could lend a hand. Rick once joked that you could overshadow any Amish when it came to your work ethic. You just shrugged your shoulders and replied that you had no problem with that as long as you didn't have to pray for hours.
So you and Daryl spent the mornings together - without your having a clue about it. You, lovingly watching over the plants in the vegetable patches, he on the guard tower, lovingly watching over you.
As the sun rose higher and higher on its way across the sky, it made the sweat shimmer on your skin as you patiently devoted yourself to each of your tasks without taking a break. The black tank top you wore on that hot summer day stuck to your body and framed it perfectly. Your figure was like an hourglass, and each of your curves came out sensually.
At least as far as Daryl could tell. For him you were perfect, just like you were. He could watch you for hours without getting tired of it, could watch you for the rest of his life.
Only when the crotch of his jeans became uncomfortably tight did the redneck look away from you. His thoughts had taken a suggestive course, and the images that emerged in his head were by far no longer suitable for minors. Daryl would surely spend this evening in his fist again - dreaming of how you would feel lying under him, how you would smell, how you would taste, and what sweet noises would come over your lips if he would touch you where you needed it most.
"Everything's okay," he heard a familiar voice next to him.
Damn it, did the time really go that fast? Was his shift already over?
"Are you okay? You seem a little distracted to me."
Carol had come to relieve him. But Daryl, in his fascination for you, had not even noticed her.
"’m okay."
"Yes, of course, and your thoughts were on the task in front of you the whole time."
There was unmistakable amusement in Carol's voice. With a knowing smile, the woman leaned on the railing and watched you work for a while.
"Can you please finally tell Y/N that you love her. So that we can finally all get on with our lives? It's really not nice to see you two walking around each other on eggshells."
Daryl was embarrassed. He was caught with his hand in the cookie jar by Carol. Still, he tried to stay as cool as possible.
"I have no idea what ya're talkin’ about."
But the woman was not easily fooled. She knew very well what was going on in the man in front of her. Just as she knew how you felt about him.
"I hear what you say, but your ears say something else.”
Daryl flinched. Sometimes he hated the way his body betrayed him.
“What the hell,” Carol had to keep from laughing “I didn't even know that they could get so red."
"Stop it woman."
Again and again, Carol tried to get her friend to finally confess his love to you. Because in her eyes you were both wasting valuable time. And being able to spend time with loved ones was the most important thing now.
You had not noticed any of this. You were too busy tying up the tomato plants and removing the leaves so that they brought the greatest possible yield. After all, many mouths had to be fed, and you all needed supplies for the coming winter.
And it was precisely these necessary supplies that prompted Rick to ask you to go on a run the next day with others. Of course, you immediately agreed, after all, everyone went on these runs at some point. It wouldn't be your first time, and certainly not your last time, that you would take part in something like this.
But who could say that in these uncertain times?
What you did not know at the time was, that Michelle would be there too. Maybe then you would have refused. But now you sat in the back seat of the pickup truck in silence, staring stubbornly out the window.
Michelle just a few inches away from you.
It had been clear to Maggie from the start that this constellation would not bring any good. However, even the young woman would not have expected what dimensions the whole thing would take. And in what a heartbreaking catastrophe it would end.
During the entire journey Glenn and Maggie tried to break the mood. The four of you sat in the truck and drove a few hours until you finally arrived at your destination.
It should be a simple thing - in and out, quietly, quickly, unseen.
But what no one had expected was the behavior that Michelle had displayed when it came to doing her part. She had absolutely no desire to be actually a part in this job.
And Michelle let the three of you feel that very clearly.
She neither wanted to help find the necessary supplies nor carry them; even found it outrageous that she had been asked by Rick to join in and risk her life. She had never had to do this before, why now?
It took you so much strength to stay calm and not yell your opinion on Michelle's face - or beat her across the street.
You did not like this woman, not a bit. For you, she was a narrow-minded, self-centered, selfish slut who cared about only herself. And what Daryl saw in her was incomprehensible to you.
But when Michelle began to risk all of your lives because of her loud behavior, even Maggie's patience ran out. The eternal insults in your direction were just the cherry on top. Maggie would have liked nothing more than to give this snotty brat a huge slap in the face.
But to make a shitty day even more shitty, that was unfortunately your smallest problem.
Michelle's loud complaints drew the attention of more and more walkers, and at some point, you had difficulties getting back to your car.
You had just successfully cleared a pharmacy when you saw the horde slowly approaching on the street.
That was by far the worst scenario, and your greatest fear.
It was all happening so quickly, and the only thing you thought was that Michelle had to make it back to the Prison alive. You could not risk Daryl losing someone he loved again. No matter what a fucking bitch she was. You knew it would destroy him.
The way back to the pickup was long and the Walkers unfortunately closer than wanted. The heavy backpacks did not make it any easier to escape them quickly. So you stayed back when Maggie, Glenn, and Michelle started running back towards the truck. You knew your partners needed a distraction to make it through.
And what could be a better distraction than you.
"Come to me you damn motherfuckers! Here I am! Come and catch me you bloody bastards! You ugly fuckers!" you screamed on top of your lungs, tried to make as much noise as possible.
The walkers slowly turned to you and came to hunt you down - to kill you. You would be their lunch. Scared to death your heart was beating so hard in your chest that you thought it was about to pop out.
From that point on, you could not remember anything. Your brain just shut down, went into survival mode. You only ran on instinct, no more active thinking.
In a way, like the Walkers you tried to escape from.
Maggie turned when she heard your voice, and the blood froze in her veins. She thought you were right behind her, but you were still near the entrance to the pharmacy and the horde of walkers was on the way to you.
"Y/N!" her voice was desperate.
She was about to turn back to you – to help you - but Glenn could not and would not let that happen.
"Come on Maggie, we have to get the car. We'll come back for her; I promise."
Glenn took his girlfriend's hand and pulled her forcefully with him.
Michelle had not noticed anything of that, she was the first to take a seat in the pickup and firmly locked the passenger door behind her.
When Glenn finally started the engine and Maggie - now in the back seat - turned her eyes back to the pharmacy entrance, you were gone.
Your best friend was in a panic.
"Where is she? Oh my god, where is she?"
Only then did she see you on the canopy of the building - the backpack with the bandages still firmly strapped around you.
"On the roof, Glenn, she's on the roof! We have to get her!" the young woman screamed in desperation.
She could not and did not want to lose her friend. Not now and not like this.
“and preferably before these things figure out how to climb”, was Glenn's addition when he turned the truck and drove towards the pharmacy.
"Are you crazy," squeaked Michelle, "do you want to die just to maybe save her life?"
Maggie's eyes darkened, and Glenn realized immediately that she had now reached the limit. Another word from Michelle and his girlfriend would feed this woman to the Walkers with no trace of guilt.
"You shut up now, bitch! You're to blame for all this shit. If you’d shut your damn mouth and done what we've all done hundreds of times before, none of this would have happened! These fucking things would never have noticed us."
Michelle gasped to give Maggie a neat answer, but Maggie was faster.
"If I hear one more word from you, if you just beep, I'll feed you to these Walkers!"
Michelle's reply was interrupted by the gruesome sound of breaking bones as Glenn brutally drove through the horde of walkers who were now confused and trying to understand what was going on around them.
You were still standing on the roof. Your gaze was focused on the scene before you but not fearful, as if your self was not there at that moment.
"You have to jump," Glenn called to you when he brought the pickup to a stop right under the roof.
And with that you jumped onto the back of the truck. The fall was higher than expected, and there was a thump as you hit the flatbed. Immediately Glenn had accelerated the car again and drove away as fast as he could in the direction of Prison.
Desperate, Maggie kept calling your name, but you just did not answer. Maybe you were in shock. After all, it was not common practice to voluntarily sacrifice oneself as a meal for these monsters.
A few miles out of town, Glenn finally stopped the car, and Maggie was by your side in an instant. But she was not prepared for what she saw. You were passed out and a small pool of blood had formed under your head. The thud she had heard - when you landed - had been your head when it hit the loading wall.
"Oh my God."
Immediately Maggie was at your side, looking for your pulse with trembling hands. And there it was - weak - but she felt it.
"Please open your eyes Y/N/N", the young woman pleaded as she lovingly brushed the hair off your face.
"Maggie?" Glenn's voice was timid, almost frightened, as he stood next to the pickup and stared at your broken body.
"We have to get her to my father as soon as possible!"
Maggie's harsh words seemed to loosen Glenn from his stupor.
"Okay, no problem, I can do that."
And with that Glenn was back behind the wheel and gave full throttle. Maggie stayed with you on the flatbed, took off your backpack and trying to stop the bleeding on your head.
-------------------------------------
Rick and Daryl were in the courtyard of the prison, discussing the next runs when the pickup truck drove through the gates with screeching tires. It was immediately clear to both of them that something bad must have happened.
Without wasting time, the two men ran towards the car.
"What happened", Rick called out.
But Daryl could not hear Glenn’s answer. Everything around him fell silent and vanished when he saw you - bleeding, passed out - in Maggie's arms.
Without thinking further, he jumped on the flatbed and leaned over you. He caressed your pale cheek with trembling fingertips before desperately looking for a pulse on your neck.
Frightened, he held his breath until he felt it, your heartbeat.
Even but so weak.
"We have to take her to my father."
Maggie had not even finished the sentence when Daryl had already taken you in his arms - bridal style - and was on the way to the infirmary with you.
With a lover's desperation, he clung to you as he ran all the way.
“Don't do this to me. I beg ya, please don't die to me."
-----------------------------------
Daryl never left your side for a moment. He sat like a statue and held your hand. He did not say a word, did not move. Neither when Hershel examined you, nor when he sewed your laceration.
He listened quietly to the vet's diagnosis and what he thought might happen in the next few hours or days.
Only when Maggie came with a bowl of water and a cloth to wash off the dirt and blood did he break free.
"Let me …" Daryls voice cracked, and the knot in his throat made it difficult for him to say anything else.
He took everything from Maggie's hand and put it on the little table next to your bed.
The redneck looked broken. The young woman could clearly see how much he loved you. And she knew that if you died, Daryl would vanish. He would just cease to exist.
“I'm so sorry,” Maggie said quietly, and a tear rolled down her cheek, “I thought she was right behind me. But … but she wasn't."
"It's not ya’ fault." Daryl's voice was barely perceptible.
Slowly he dipped the cloth into the warm water and began to carefully wash the blood off your face.
"Daryl I’m ... I’m"
"I know."
“Y/N is strong, she is tough. She will be okay."
Daryl just nodded absently while he concentrated fully on washing the blood off your temple.
And so Maggie left the redneck alone with you in the infirmary.
With trembling hands, he began to clean your neck. Little by little he washed your whole body- took care of you quietly and lovingly- making dirt, blood and sweat disappear, made you as clean as he saw you before you went on that fucking run.
Then he sat there, hour after hour, just looking at you, holding your hand. You looked so fragile. You lay there injured and pale, almost like a corpse. Only your quiet, even breathing told Daryl that you were still with him.
Inside Daryl, everything contracted painfully at the thought that you might not wake up again. Slowly he leaned towards your face. He looked at every birthmark, every wrinkle, every freckle, as if he wanted to burn them into his memory.
“I don't know if ya can hear me,” he finally began with a trembling voice.
“But I ... I ... I “, he had to laugh bitterly.
“’m a bloody coward. Why can' I jus’ say it?"
Daryl took a deep breath, he had to get his fear under control somehow. He had to tell you. He would never forgive himself if he did not do it now.
What if you died.
"I love ya Y/N. 've been in love with ya since ... I actually have no idea how long. But I love ya. I should have told ya much earlier. I don' know why I didn't. But I love ya."
Daryl fought back tears but lost.
"Oh God please, I beg ya, please come back to me. Give me a chance to show ya how much I love ya. Just one chance to prove myself to ya." and with that Daryl collapsed on top of you, crying and sobbing.
----------------------------------
It took you two days to open your eyes again. Two days in which Daryl had not left your side. Two days of going through hell and back again. In which even he had sent a quick prayer or two towards heaven.
It was as if you had been awakened from a deep sleep far too abruptly. And it took a while before you knew where you were. You felt dizzy and tired. Your head hurt like hell. And you were confused.
First, why you were in the infirmary, and second, why Daryl was sitting next to your bed looking like he had not slept in days – your hand in his.
"Hey," he whispered, "how are ya feelin’?"
"Tired", your voice was scratchy from not using it for a long time, "my head hurts."
“You hit ya head bad. Hershel had to patch ya up."
"What happened?"
"Can't ya remember."
"No ... Yes …. but not ... not really ... only up to a certain point."
You were nervous, were not used to Daryl being so close to you. You did not want to make a fuss about yourself, and yet you liked the attention this man was giving you.
“I can still remember the horde of Walkers who came up to me, but then … nothing ... I can't remember what happened then."
You had not noticed that tears had started to run down your temples until Daryl lovingly wiped them away with his thumb.
"Hey ... shh ... take it easy. Everythin’ is okay. Everyone’s fine. Please don't get upset, ya have a concussion. Hershel says ya need a lot of rest now."
And suddenly you were silent. Never before had Daryl spoken to you with such a loving tone in his voice or had touched you in this way. You did not understand what was happening here.
But he said you had a concussion. Perhaps it was to blame for this filter through which you noticed this whole interaction.
“I'll let Hershel know that ya woke up. I'll be right back; promise."
Confused, you looked after the redneck. Something had happened that you had no idea about. But you did not want to worry about it now. Your head hurt too much, and you just wanted to sleep.
---------------------------------------
When you opened your eyes again, Hershel was sitting in the chair on which you had previously seen Daryl.
"It's nice to see you again with your eyes open Y/N," said the older man with a friendly smile, "you worried us very much."
"‘m sorry. "
"It's okay. How do you feel?"
"Okay. Tired, head hurts."
"Something else?"
"No, except that I feel like I'm wrapped in cotton wool."
Hershel sat and listened to you before nodding.
"Daryl said you can't remember what happened."
"Not really."
"Don't worry, that's nothing unusual with this type of head injury."
He patted your shoulder encouragingly.
"Will I be able to remember one day?"
"You know kid, sometimes it is really good not to be able to remember some things."
"Probably."
“But now you should rest first. I know you have questions, but answers will come later. After all, you have to regain your strength."
------------------------------------------
You knew you had slept, but not for how long. Because the next time you opened your eyes, Carol was sitting on that same chair. But there was something else. Could it be that it smelled of her venison ragout?
"How are you, Y/N/N?"
"Still tired, but the headache is almost gone."
"Good to hear. You gave us all a real scare."
"I'm sorry."
"Especially Daryl. I've never seen him so frightened."
You looked questioningly at the older woman next to you. You were used to it that she kept dropping allusions about Daryl - at least when she talked to you. But you just did not understand that statement at all.
Daryl was never afraid of anything. Why would he ...
"Well. Are you hungry?" Carol had a friendly smile on her face when it broke your train of thought.
At that moment, your stomach made a loud rumbling noise.
“I'll take that as a yes,” smirked the gray-haired woman, “Daryl went hunting so that I could cook this. He knows it’s your favorite."
Unsure you looked at Carol before you took the bowl from her hand and slowly began to eat. It was true, that was your favorite food - if there was such a thing at all in times like this.
"You know that he loves you," she suddenly began out of nowhere
"Of course, we are family," did you try to belittle the matter.
“Okay, let's reformulate the whole thing again. Daryl is in love with you, absolutely and one hundred percent madly in love with you. A 'you're the only one for me' love. Without any misunderstanding."
When she said that, you choked on the stew right away and now you sat in front of her, coughing and snorting.
“And I know you love him too. So don't try to deny it at all. Everyone here knows that. Or how blind do you think we are? Although ... apart from Daryl. He has no idea. He probably wouldn't even understand if it bites his ass.”
At this picture you had to laugh.
“Sometimes you have to take a leap of faith in order to reach their goal. You two really have to start talking clearly to each other. You two belong together like pepper and salt Do you actually notice how much you waste your precious time? Neither of us knows how much of it is left. You should know that now, because honey it was damn close."
---------------------------------------------
Sleeping was your main occupation right now. A concussion took time and a lot of rest to heal. So it wasn't uncommon for your life to consist of short scenes at the moment.
With a sound - like a purring cat - you stretched in the hospital bed before opening your eyes. You no longer had any sense of time, and only the sunlight falling through the barred windows told you that it was probably afternoon.
"Hey."
Only now did you notice that Daryl was with you again.
"Ya feel better?"
"Yes."
Daryl seemed kind of nervous. But that wasn't possible, why should he?
"I've been here before, but ya slept and I don't want to wake ya", his words just gushed out of him.
Could it be? Was he nervous?
"Okay ... yes ... uhm ..."
You were easily overwhelmed with this situation, and somehow your head just seemed to have been swept clean. You could not find any words.
"We take turns. Hershel thinks there should always be someone with ya. Because of the concussion. Rick has already been here, and Maggie of course."
"And Carol."
"Yea."
"I wanted to thank you."
"For what?"
"For the food. Carol said you went hunting especially for it."
"No problem."
“I still appreciate it. And for ... that you are here ... with me."
He nudged his nose up in a nod.
And then there was silence. The conversation with Carol kept going through your head. What she said. Could it really be true?
You knew that Daryl has always been more of a man of action than a man of words. And it was clear to you that if you did not take the first step now, you two would probably never get anywhere.
"Carol spoke to me", you started when you sat up
The man across from you was obviously nervous now. You could tell all too clearly by the fact that he was starting to chew the inside of his cheek.
"With me too."
"Apparently something like an intervention is going on here, could that be", you smiled, trying to loosen up the mood a bit.
"Seems so."
Daryl looked at you for a few moments. You could see the wheels turning in his head.
"I'm a coward, Y/N," he finally began.
You had expected a lot, but not a statement like that.
"No, you’re not. How did you come up with such an idea?"
"I was a complete idiot and too cowardly."
"What are you talking about Daryl."
In your opinion, this was going completely wrong right now. You actually wanted to tell him you loved him, and now it seemed to end in a vortex of self-doubt.
"I love ya, Y/N.”
And with that your thoughts became silent.
“I am terribly in love with ya. And out of fear I didn't say anything. But then I saw ya lying on the flatbed of that fucking truck, covered in blood and passed out. At that moment, my heart stopped. And I swore to myself that when ya're okay again, when ya've got throu’ this, that I'll finally tell ya what I feel for ya. Y/N I love ya. "
During Daryl's monologue you forgot how to breathe and just listened intently while thousands of butterflies fluttered around in your stomach like they're having a bloody party there.
It took you some time to realize that Daryl was waiting for a reaction from you as he gnawed his thumb in fear.
"I love you too," it gushed out of you before you even realized you had said something.
And then there was silence again. You and Daryl just looked at each other. Unsure what to do now. After all, you were both in uncharted waters.
"And ... and now," you asked uncertainly.
"Don't know," Daryl just shrugged.
"I mean ... um ... are ... are we ... together now?"
You carefully ventured out of cover.
"Um, yea ... if ya ... if ya want that."
"Oh my god, yes please", you replied in one breath.
Suddenly the tension between you had dissolved and you both had to laugh. It was so surreal. Two adults acted like teenagers in love who had no idea what to do.
But then Daryl slowly leaned in towards you. Your heart was pounding when you could finally feel his breath on your face. But before your lips touched, he stopped. He wanted to give you the opportunity to evade him if you did not want this.
But you wanted it, wanted it more than anything else in your life. And when you had overcome the last few inches, you finally felt his lips on yours.
The feeling was amazing. As if at that moment an electric shock had run through your whole body, and at the same time it was like coming home.
Everything around you no longer existed, was no longer important. Here and now, it was just you and Daryl. The way his lips moved with yours, how his fingers slowly ran up your arms until they were in your hair.
Everything was so intense. And when you finally parted to take a much-needed breath, Daryl leaned his forehead against yours.
"Ya have no idea how long I've been dreamin’ about this."
"Probably as long as me."
-------------------------
When Rick was about to visit Y/N in the early evening hours, he saw Carol and Maggie standing in the door to the infirmary.
"Everything's okay," he wanted to know.
The two women turned around with their index fingers over their lips.
"Shhhh."
Both did at the same time.
"Be quiet and come here," Carol whispered, "you really have to see that."
Rick approached the two women curiously. What could be so interesting that Carol and Maggie were half-hidden behind the door, staring into the infirmary?
He was confused, but when he saw what fascinated them so much, his heart swell. A satisfied smile played on his lips, as he was seeing what was going on less than five paces away.
Daryl was lying - half sitting - on the bed. His back supported on the wall behind him. Y/N was snuggled close to him, head on his chest and her arm wrapped around him. Absently, the fingers of his right hand traced patterns on her upper arm as he read to her from an old paperback.
Everyone could see the love that bound these two people. And thank God the two finally understood that.
"Seems like we finally have a happy ending," said the former deputy with a broad smile.
"Thank God", Maggie exhaled, "nobody wanted to watch this puppy love shit anymore."
“Yes,” laughed Rick, “but you have to admit there was something exciting about the whole thing. As if it had been our very own little soap opera."
"You're right, but I prefer my best friend happy."
"And what do we do now. I mean this seemingly endless heartbreak theater has come obviously to an end."
"Gossip- Rick is afraid he'll get bored?"
Maggie's voice was teasing.
"No, that's not how it was meant."
"Don't worry, Rick," said Carol with a smile, "I think the whole thing has a sequel anyway."
"What do you mean?"
"Well, has someone told Michelle yet?"
All three looked at each other with big eyes before they having to resist laughing convulsively.
This story could get really interesting after all, they agreed.
part two
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sour--disposition · 4 years ago
Text
Damage Control
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harry lewis x fem!reader
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This is Part 2 to Bad Girlfriend, which you can find here
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You looked down to your phone, rolling your eyes at the name and photo popping up on the screen. “Hello”, you sighed, answering the call and sitting back down on the sofa.
“Y/N…”, Ethan trailed off. “We really need to talk to you. Harry’s really not doing well and we don’t know what else we can do to try and help him”, he told you.
You let your head fall back against the back of the sofa, letting out a deep breath. “I know you hate me and the rest of the boys and Harry, but he needs you”, Ethan begged.
“Where are you?”, you asked heavily.
“We’re all at Harry’s”, Ethan told you. “Thank you”.
Within half an hour, you’d managed to navigate the London traffic that separated both yours and Harry’s apartments. You were still pulling the hoodie over your head when you walked into the lift and hit the button for Harry’s floor. Ethan was waiting for you outside of the front door, arms crossed over his chest as he paced around a small section of the corridor.
“Hey”, he sighed, a small ounce of relief seeming to wash over him.
“Where is he?”, you asked instead of a greeting. Ethan nodded, and motioned for you to follow him into the apartment. As you expected, he led you down to Harry’s room. You passed the living room, where a multitude of shoes and coats had been discarded, and straight into the bedroom where the rest of the Sidemen and Cal congregated.
You got a few looks from some of the boys as you walked through the group and made a beeline for Harry’s bed. “Hey”, you whispered, perching yourself on the side of his bed.
Harry looked up at you, tears immediately filling his eyes. He pulled the duvet up and around his face more, trying to hide his blotchy skin and the dried tear tracks that you’d already noticed. “What’s this about?”, you asked him quietly.
“He won’t speak to us”, Josh said, voice laced with frustration and worry. You nodded at him before turning back to face Harry.
“I can’t help if you don’t speak to me”, you told him. 
As much as Harry had hurt you, nothing hurt more than walking away from his front door after returning the cardboard box with his stuff in it. Seeing him like this, as a shell of the person you thought you were going to spend forever with, was crushing.
You rested your palm on the side of Harry’s face, feeling the rough facial hair that had been building up on his cheeks since you’d last left his apartment. “Harry”, you whispered. You left your spot on the side of the bed in favour of kneeling on the floor so you could come face to face with him, chin propped on his mattress. You let a hand rest on his hair, scratching his scalp gently. “Please”.
“I’m so sorry”, he choked suddenly. “I’m so sorry”, he repeated, just as brokenly.
Fresh tears were running down Harry’s cheeks, dampening the pillowcase under his face. “Is that what’s caused this?”, you asked him gently, swooping your thumb down to wipe away a few of his tears. Harry’s nod was barely noticeable. “Will you talk to me about it?”, you asked, voice still just as soft.
Harry’s eyes met yours before darting around the room. You could see when he’d made his decision, recoiling back in on himself. “Tell you what, I’ll bring you a brew and give you a bit and then see how you’re doing”, you suggested, standing up from your spot and turning around to make your way out of the room.
You turned back to the boys, silently urging them out of the room before pulling Harry’s bedroom door shut and walking towards the kitchen to make him the promised cup of tea.
“Shouldn’t someone be in there with him?”, Vik asked.
“No”, you told him simply. “He’s not the best with people anyway but he’ll just be overwhelmed with this many people if he’s this upset”, you explained. As you waited for the kettle to boil, back rested against the kitchen counter, you turned to Cal. “How long has he been like this?”, you asked him.
“I mean, he’s been bad since you left him”, Cal said with a slight edge to his voice. “But he’s been bad since you brought his stuff round”, he sighed.
“Are you saying that this is my fault?”, you asked, voice turning defensive. The six other men in the room stiffened. Cal hadn’t been there for the blowout between you and Harry and you doubted that he’d been informed about anything that was said.
“Maybe this is a conversation for later”, Josh tried to mediate, voice hesitant and wary.
“No, she needs to hear that this is her fault”, Cal defended. “Bog’s in there on his arse because she’s a selfish cow”, he spat.
You scoffed, turning around to busy yourself with making Harry a cup of tea. “Look”, you said, before anyone could step in and cause any arguments. “You can think what you want about me, but I’m just trying to help Harry. If you don’t want me here, I’ll leave”, you told him simply.
Cal was silent after that and stayed out of the way. He refused to look at the others who kept sending him funny looks and he stepped out of your way when you went to take Harry’s drink down to him. Your murmured ‘thank you’ when unacknowledged, but you couldn’t find it within yourself to care.
Harry was in the same position that you’d left him in, bundled up in the duvet staring blankly ahead at the wall. “Here you go”, you said, placing the cup down on the side table, perching on the side of the bed as you did so. Your hand returned to his hair, stroking through the messy, knotty pile of dirty blond. “I’ll come back in a bit, yeah? Drink that and see if you come ‘round a bit”, you told him, letting your hand have one more smooth over his hair before you got up and left.
You paused in the hallway after you’d shut Harry’s door. You let your head lean back against the wall as you tried and failed to fight the tears that had been bubbling just beneath the surface ever since you’d arrived at Harry’s. Seeing him in the state he was in seemed to reopen all the wounds that you’d managed to emergency triage over the last week or so and it ached so deeply that you didn’t know how to cope.
“Y/N?”, a voice asked from down the hallway. You stood up straight as quick as you could, scrubbing the tears off of your face and sniffing unattractively. “Are you okay?”, Josh asked you, coming closer.
“Yeah”, you told him, but your blotchy face and broken voice gave you away instantly.
“Freya told me how hard this has been for you”, Josh whispered, standing in front of you. “I tried to get Ethan to not call you but…”, he trailed off. “I’m so sorry”, he said.
“What for?”, you asked him, running the sleeves of your jumper under your eyes once again.
“Harry told us everything… I hope”, Josh started. “We were all awful to you and we thought we were protecting Harry. You don’t deserve any of that”, he told you.
“Cal clearly doesn’t have that idea”, you laughed sadly. “Me and Harry both kept secrets, we thought it was the best thing for the both of us. If I knew he was this bad…”, you trailed off.
“Come on, there’s a tea for you in here”, Josh said, guiding you towards the living room. He handed you a cup of tea that had been left on the side for you and went to sit down with the rest of the boys. You sat down in the free corner of the sofa, putting your cup down so you could wipe your tears once again.
“Why did you never tell us?”, Simon asked. “How bad he’d got? Why did you let us hate you?”.
“I don’t know”, you told him truthfully. “It was easier, I guess”, you shrugged.
“If we’d have known…”, Tobi started, trying to find the right words. “I don’t know, we’d have done something, though”. Each of the boys looked distressed, seeing Harry the way he was was taking a toll on everyone, but so was finding out the truth after 6 years worth of lies.
“I know that, but I don’t think he did. Or does”, you said sadly. “He’s terrified of disappointing any of you. I was terrified of disappointing him”, you shrugged weakly. “So I did everything I could to make sure that I didn’t”, you admitted.
Talking about it felt like pouring salt in the reopened wounds. “I guess that didn’t work”, you whispered to yourself, but the room was so deathly quiet that you may as well have shouted it.
“What do you mean?”, Ethan asked. “What didn’t work?”.
“Harry’s always deserved better than me, I guess he finally figured that out”, you said, as though it was obvious. 6 of the 7 faces in front of you wore incredulous expressions. “What?”.
“Harry said that he’s always thought you deserved better than him”, Josh told you sadly. “That that’s why he tried to push you away”.
You looked down to the cup in your hands, fingers tapping relentlessly as you tried to process what Josh had just told you without breaking down into floods of tears once again. “I never knew that”, you said, voice cracking around your tears. “I never thought it would end up like this”.
Nobody knew what to say to you. Josh and Simon had an idea from Freya and Talia about how hard this had hit you and you still dropped everything and came running when Ethan told you that Harry needed your help.
“I know I don’t know everything and I probably have no right to even say anything, but it’s painfully obvious that the two of you still love each other”, Josh told you. “You’re the only person he’s interacted with, let alone spoken to, in the last week”, he reminded you.
“What if loving each other isn’t enough?”, you asked brokenly. You could see the pity written across everyone’s face, even Cal’s, but that did nothing to ease the pain that was hacking away at your insides. 
It was clear that no one had an answer, so you sat up straight, took a deep breath and wiped your face. “I’ll be back in a bit”, you told them. “I’ll text someone if we need anything”, you promised.
You knocked on Harry’s bedroom door, but didn’t wait for a response before walking in and pushing the door half shut behind you. The mug on his side table was empty but Harry had curled himself back under the covers. He looked to you when you came in, before letting his eyes drift closed. He looked exhausted, but you weren’t surprised if he hadn’t been looking after himself.
“What can I do?”, you asked, sitting down next to Harry. He only shrugged in response, still not opening his eyes. “Harry, this isn’t safe, baby”, you whispered, letting your hand rest on his face again. You watched as Harry leaned into your touch, moving his head slightly so that as much of your skin as possible was touching his.
“I’m sorry”, he whispered again, voice a little less hoarse than before. “I don’t deserve this”.
“That’s not your choice”, you told him. “I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t want to”, you promised him.
“Don’t”, Harry said, voice as harsh as it could be given how weak he was. “I don’t deserve you looking after me again. Don’t lie and tell me you want to be here”, he whispered.
“Okay”, you said. “Sitting here hurts more than walking out the other week”, you admitted. “Because I still love you and seeing you like this is breaking my heart even more than it already is”.
Harry squeezed his eyes shut again, stray tears leaking out of the corners. In a change of plan, you stood up and went to the bathroom, grabbing the comb off of the side of the sink. “Let me know if it hurts”, you told him, before taking a small section of his hair and started working the comb through the very ends, working your way down to the roots.
You sat in the same position, slowly working your way through Harry’s hair, for 20 minutes. You did your best to cause him as little pain as possible, but some of the knots kept snagging on the comb because of how big they were. “Beautiful”, you smiled, putting the comb down on the side before turning back to him.
“Thank you, feels better”, he mumbled.
“I’m glad”, you told him, running your fingers through his, albeit greasy, knot-free hair. “Feel like taking a shower?”, you asked him, knowing Harry would find it hard to resist, especially if he hadn’t showered in a good few days.
“Wanna, but I’m too tired”, Harry murmured.
“Bath?”, you asked him. “I’ll get it running so all you need to do is go sit in there once it’s full”, you offered. You watched as the idea ran through Harry’s mind for a few moments, before he smiled up at you weakly and nodded.
Once you’d set the water running, you wandered back through to Harry’s room, sitting down next to him again. “Things aren’t right without you here”, Harry admitted. “Feels wrong”.
“I know”, you said.
“I wish I didn’t ruin everything”, he whispered.
“Josh said you always thought I deserved better than you, that that’s why you pushed me away”, you told him.
Harry looked confused. “Yeah”, he said, like it was obvious. “You’ve always deserved so much better than I can give you”.
“I always thought you deserved better than me”, you admitted. “How were we together for 6 years and didn’t even cover the basics?”, you scoffed.
“You thought you weren’t enough?”, Harry asked, and you could practically hear his heart breaking even more in his chest.
“You tried to push me away, I did everything I could to make sure I never disappointed you… I guess it was a cycle that just needed breaking”, you said sadly. “Your bath will be ready, go on”, you instructed.
While Harry was in the bath, you dug him out some clothes and a few towels and left them folded up on the sink before returning to his bedroom and finding out a fresh set of bedding.
By the time Harry had dried himself off from the bath and gotten dressed, you’d stripped and remade the bed and shoved the bedding into a laundry basket. “You didn’t have to do this”, Harry told you as soon as he spotted the fresh bedding.
“I know, but I need you to be okay and looking after you is the only way I know to make sure that you’re okay”, you told him honestly.
“Are you okay?”, Harry asked you bluntly, coming to sit on his bed. “Tell me the truth”, he whispered, taking your fingers in his.
“No”, you admitted quietly, eyes trained on your fingers.
“Talk to me”, he said quietly.
“I’m not ready to stop loving you yet but I’m scared that it’s not enough to try and make this work”, you said, eyes burning with brewing tears. “I don’t think I can ever stop loving you”, you croaked, tears finally spilling over and dropping onto your conjoined fingers.
Harry wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you between his legs, tucking your head beneath his chin. He squeezed you tightly as you sobbed unabashedly into his chest. Harry kept his head rested on yours, keeping you cocooned in his frame. It also meant that you wouldn’t be able to see the tears flooding his eyes at the sight of you so broken.
“I know I’ll never be able to stop loving you”, he admitted quietly, lips catching on your hair as he spoke. “I know the second tries have never worked before, but we never actually spoke about what was wrong”, Harry told you.
“Maybe breaking up and getting the whole truth out to everyone was the best thing that could happen for us”, you said weakly. “Well, I say that like you’ve not just had your first shower in a week and I’m not holding things together by a thread”, you snorted.
“I meant what I said”, Harry said suddenly after a few moments of silence. “Things aren’t right when you aren’t in my life. And it’s not just because we’ve been together for 6 years”, he told you. “I mean, like, I’ll see something on twitter and my first thought is that you’d find it funny, and how I nearly started crying in M & S because they were out of your favourite pasta shapes and then I remembered how much you hate M & S so I had to leave before I had a breakdown in the pasta aisle”, Harry said.
“I cried in Asda because I walked past a couple bickering about sushi and whether or not it was nice”, you admitted before laughing through the remnants of your tears as you sat up. “We’ve spoken more today than we have in the last 2 years”, you reminded him.
“Maybe another shot is worth it. You make me too happy to not try”, Harry whispered, resting a hand on your cheek and smiling softly when you leaned into it. “I love you too much not to try”.
Instead of replying, you leaned forward and pressed your lips to Harry’s. “I love you, too”, you whispered against his lips. You kissed him once more before pulling back and smiling at him.
You and Harry walked back out into the living room a few moments later, both still with blotchy faces and drying tear tracks and a few fingers hooked together. Harry ducked his head, a shy smile crossing his face when he saw that everyone was staring at the two of you.
Harry smushed himself into the corner of the sofa and quickly pulled you down to sit in the small space beside him. His arm rested over the back of the sofa, fingers twiddling your hair absentmindedly as you let your head drop to his shoulder tiredly.
“So... you all good, Bog?”, Ethan asked warily.
Harry turned to you briefly, an unmistakable look of bliss settling onto his features when your eyes darted up to meet his. The smile that you gave him pulled all the broken pieces back to the centre and the way you rubbed your cheek sleepily against his shoulder glued them all back together again.
Harry looked back up to Ethan, letting his arm behind your head drop down to cradle your shoulder and hold you to his body.
“Never better, mate”
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wri0thesley · 4 years ago
Note
Nat... 👉👈 since requests are open can I please request some Gojo fluff? If you need a little inspo maybe like, reader and him meet after they were abroad for a mission or something? I'm in love with this funky man and I just wanna give him kiths
sweet tooth - gojo x reader, sfw, 2.5k
the early bird catches the worm. or the cake, you guess.
(just a lot of talking about food tbh . . . i dont get to write pure sfw fluff much, thank u for letting me indulge in my jjk brainrot NFJVND. gn reader! )
You know as well as anyone how little free time a jujutsu sorcerer has. You’ve spent most of your past few years rushing around from place to place, calling it a good night’s rest when you manage to fall amongst your coverings before the clock strikes three in the morning. You think this probably has to go double for somebody in such a constant state of being needed as Gojo – but still, he’d shown up outside your room this morning, bright and early, and said; “We’re going out!”
He hadn’t mentioned that you were still clad in pyjamas, your hair still a mess about your face, eyes still sleep and shadowed. You had jumped out of bed at the knock, of course – you’re used to being needed at the drop of a hat – but there is nothing at all in the way Gojo is looking at you to suggest there’s any kind of danger brewing.
He got in last night at the same time as you, after an exorcism had dragged on longer than expected – you know this. So how is his skin still glowing like moonlight, his voice still so bright, his hair still falling over his blindfold in that effortless perfectly-styled-without-being-styled way?
If he’s slept, he’s gotten the same hour and fifteen minutes you’ve gotten.
“Not even a warning?” You sigh, stifling a yawn. “I haven’t had time to clean my weapons or anything--”
“Woah!” Gojo’s grin doesn’t fade, but he holds up his hands as if he’s trying to avoid a savage attack. “Just you and me. No curses, promise. You won’t be needing those.” He cocks his head to the side. “Unless you wanna try and take me. I think you’d lose!”
Your brow furrows. You know you’d lose, and so does he.
“Have you seen the time?” You ask him, instead. You don’t question why or how he’d gotten into the hallway to stand like this outside of the room you’re renting in Tokyo for a while. You’ve learnt after knowing him for a while that what Gojo wants, he gets – besides. If he’d sweet-talked your landlady into letting him in, you couldn’t blame her for falling for his charms.
He sticks his head into your room and turns his face towards the clock on the wall, ticking merrily away, mocking you. You had hoped, after last night, the next time you saw a clock the hour hand would be well past twelve again. He pulls back.
“Now I have.”
“. . . aren’t you tired?”
Gojo shrugs, maddeningly. Half of what he does is irritating to the highest degree – the other half makes your stomach do strange somersaults that you try and push away. Getting a crush on Gojo Satoru is just going to lead to disaster. Although at this point, you have to admit to yourself that it’s more a case of ‘having a crush’ – there’s not much denying it, when he twinkles at you like this.
“You’ve gotten a good hour of beauty sleep,” he chirps. “Not that you need it. Let me take you out!”
You’re still focussing on the compliment, slipped into his words as if it’s as simple as breathing, when he enters your room full-on and is opening your wardrobe.
“H-hey,” you say, weakly. He’s rifling through the rack without a care in the world. “I—I can dress myself--”
“It’s quicker if I do it,” he replies, pulling out one of your favourite shirts. “Here, catch--!” Your reflexes allow you to not make a fool of yourself in front of him. “The colour of that one’s pretty! It’ll look nice on you.”
You’ve had more clothes piled into your arms before you can blink. You guess that Gojo must know his way around clothes – you’ve seen some of the brands and price tags of things he wears – but you can’t help but be a little flabbergasted by just how casual he is about everything. Maybe it’s the fact that your brain is still short-circuiting after being woken up earlier than you were expecting.
He finishes and walks over to you.
“I’ll wait outside.”
“W-what a gentleman,” you manage, and he throws his head back and laughs, and the laugh feels like it lodges warm in your chest. “After waking me up, bursting into my bedroom--”
“I’ll pay for everything,” he promises. He saunters out of your room, pulling the door closed behind him, calling; “I’ll make it up to you, promise!”
You stand there for a few more moments, still struggling to process the whirlwind that is Gojo’s presence in your life – half joking, half serious, half making you think that maybe you stand a chance, when he calls through the door;
“I can’t hear you moving!”
You jump. You wriggle out of your nightwear, your cheeks heating up, as you snap back;
“You said you were going to wait out there, not that you were going to press your ear to it and listen like some kind of stalker--!”
You stare in confusion at the fancy window in front of you, decorated with swirling cursive in gold. From outside, you can see into the establishment – the white scrollwork chairs, the cake stands, the menus standing up in their pale white leather covers. The early morning sunlight from outside is reflecting off a perfectly organised display case teeming with tiny little perfectly formed cakes.
“If you were craving something sweet,” you say, eventually, “surely there was an easier way to get it than this.”
Gojo grabs your arm cheerfully, pulling you towards the entrance of the patisserie.
“Well, I got the first sweet thing I was craving,” he ticks it off with his other hand. “But then I had one of my patented brainwaves.” He elbows you. “Put them both together!”
“I’m not feeling very sweet after you interrupted my sleep,” you mumble, but you know that there’s no real bite in your words. You hope Gojo doesn’t notice the reaction that you have – you know he’d never let it go. You often don’t know how to respond to his flirting – he has a reputation, after all, and you are just . . . you.
“We had to get here early, anyway,” he says, as he stands before the counter. The man in the apron and chef hat behind it recognises him immediately, lighting up – you wonder how much money Gojo spends on expensive patisserie. Everyone knows he has a sweet tooth. “They sell out of some of the best stuff well before ten!”
Gojo knows exactly what he’s doing as he points out various desserts from the display case, the man falling over himself to get the – frankly absurd amount of sweets – carefully packaged up for him. You’re not surprised, knowing Gojo, about the cute animal-shaped cakes that he chooses, the smiling bears and cats with ears made of sliced strawberries. You’re a little more surprised by all of the fancier pieces he chooses that you don’t recognise, but you don’t have much time for dwelling on it.
Spoils in hand, you peer further into the establishment to choose a table.
“Nah, don’t worry about that,” Gojo says cheerfully. “We’ll find somewhere outside to sit. It’s such a nice morning!”
You don’t miss the grin he shoots you as he says ‘morning’, the sidelong tip of his head as if he’s waiting to see if you’ll scold him again for interrupting your sleep. You do no such thing, content to be pulled along behind him again as he goes off in search of a place to enjoy his spoils.
People just tend to be pulled along by Gojo’s magnetism, you’ve discovered – and you are, hopelessly, no different.
He finds a quiet bench in a shady corner of one of the local parks; the only other people going past occasional elderly, walking their little dogs. He pats the wooden frame of the bench next to him, smiling.
“You’re not going to make me eat all of this by myself, huh?”
“It’s enough for eight people,” you say, sighing and resigning yourself to your fate as you take the place. He’s lucky you have a sweet tooth too; if he’d brought someone else, they’d probably be shirking back in horror at all the sugar. “You could probably eat it by yourself anyway.”
He pouts.
“I want to share it with you,” he says, cajoling – his fingers hover over one of the smaller cakes, a perfect bite-sized morsel. You try not to think about the elegant lines of his fingers and the power behind them as he plucks it up and offers it to you. “This one’s really good.”
You bring up your hand to take the sweet from him, but he laughs as your fingers bounce away from him, not quite able to get a purchase.
“Let me feed you,” he says to you, and blood rushes to your face all over again.
“I—I can feed myself,” you say, swallowing thickly. Gojo’s smile, on full, sculpted lips, makes butterflies crash into one another in the pit of your stomach.
He brings the treat to your mouth and he’s right, it does look really good. It’s a neat little roll cake, small in Gojo’s fingers, with the green colouring so many sweets you’ve eaten in Japan have been – you hope it’s not matcha, knowing the flavour will surprise you and Gojo will probably laugh, but you open your mouth in defeat and let Gojo pop it in there. His fingers linger a little too long against your lips, his expression fluttering so quickly you don’t quite catch it.
If you didn’t know better . . . you’d say that he had just fought back a blush.
“Is it good?” He asks, and his voice sounds a little strangled. You bite down on the cake, the juice of the strawberries coating your tongue – it is matcha, but the flavour is offset by the sweetness of the vanilla and fruits, and you’re glad about it. You nod enthusiastically, and he laughs.
“I told you!” He taps your cheek. “I know what I’m talking about!”
“You’re so smug,” you tell him, unable to hold back the laughter that’s bubbling out of you. Alright, maybe he woke you up too early and maybe he’s dragged you outside and maybe he’s been haunting your daydreams for months now, but . . . you think he means well. And you can’t deny that the sun is shining and the cakes are really delicious.
“If you were me,” he says, stretching out his arms over the back of the bench, “you would be smug too.” You shake your head at him, but he has a satisfied smile on his face. “Feed me one!”
“Are you going to let me?” You ask. “Or are you just going to bounce it away with your Infinity to make fun of me?”
You hover over the selection yourself, considering what to choose for him. In the end, you go for one of the mini slices of mille crepe cake, reasoning with yourself that even if it’s unusual to be eating so much cake this early, at least crepes are a traditional breakfast. Gojo obediently opens his mouth wider as you lift the slice.
You falter.
“You really want me to feed you?” You ask him, unsure. He laughs, grabbing ahold of your wrist – you almost start as he takes a bite from the treat, his lips tantalisingly close to your fingers. Another bite, and the cake is gone (you’ve never seen slices of mille crepe so small – but then again, judging by the eye-watering amount Gojo paid for his spoils, you’d never be able to afford to buy from a place like that).
“Mm,” he smacks his lips together. “It’s good.”
You swallow, noticing that there’s a smear of the cream between layers at the corner of his mouth. Gojo notices you staring, and quirks his lips into a smirk. “You’re staring,” he says. “I know I’m gorgeous, but--”
“You’ve got . . .” You say, awkward, motioning to his face. Somehow, it feels too intimate to lean forward and dab it away yourself – he’d asked you to feed him, after all. If you did it of your own accord. . .
“Huh? Oh,” He moves one of the arms casually draped over the bench to his face, and you think he is going to wipe it away – but instead, he hooks his thumb under his blindfold, pushing it up casually so the light hits the swirling colours in his eyes.
You’ve seen them before, of course – you’ve seen Gojo at work, after all – but they’re still a surprise, a bright moment of swirling starshine dropped on you when you’re least expecting it. Your stomach does that flip-flop again, the one that you try so hard to ignore – but when he’s looking at you like that, curious and smug all at once, you don’t really know how to handle it.
You’re glad you’re in a secluded spot. There’s nobody to see the embarrassing display of you not quite knowing what to do with yourself.
“You can get it,” he says to you. “I don’t mind.”
“I—”
“Look.” His other hand rises, cups your face, thumb ghosting across the same spot on your cheek that he’d tapped earlier. “I left icing sugar on your face. I’ll get that, and then we’ll be even.”
(Did he do that on purpose, you wonder? You wouldn’t be surprised.)
Your hand is trembling as you reach for the cream. You try and force your fingers to be still as you lean in closer to him, eyes concentrated, as you wipe the little splotch of cream from his mouth. You’re so close you can see galaxies in his eyes, the fan of white lashes, the way that his throat bobs when he swallows as if he’s nervous--
Nervous? Gojo? That can’t be true.
“I got it,” you breathe, though you don’t move. Your faces are so close together. You could lean forward, just a bit, and meet his lips with your own. Gojo’s eyes stay trained on you, not faltering in the least. His thumb is still on your cheek. Your own finger hasn’t moved from the corner of his mouth.
“Wanna know what it tastes like?” Is that a falter, in his voice? You’re stuttering all over the place, but Gojo--
“I’m not gonna put that in my mouth after it’s been on your face,” you tell him, without moving. Your heart is beating ten to the dozen. Gojo’s eyes crinkle at the corners.
“That’s not what I meant,” he says – and he breaks the distance himself, and suddenly he is kissing you. The hand on your cheek cupping your face into his, the other hand going about your waist, holding you tightly against him like he’s been wanting to do it since the moment he woke you up that morning.
(The mille crepe cake is delicious, you find out, from the lingering taste on his lips. Next time you two go there in the early morning rush, Gojo buys two slices.)
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