#about how broken down he was and dismissive and mean he could be

[benisbeaaaaans]

Fragmented

Mirrors always made him uneasy.

The villagers who were aware of that always assumed it was because of his eye, the injury that was deemed so severe upon his arrival that he was given a patch to keep the non-functional socket clean and protected. He’d be lying if he said that wasn’t at least partially true, so he’d nod somberly every time it was brought up.

But it wasn’t the whole truth. No, he’d much rather they not have the burden of knowing the rest of the story.

It pained him to be reminded of what he was, and what he had left behind on Beast-Yeast.

It was the dead of night, the only night outside the window broken by tiny pinpricks of light, the moon gone from the sky tonight. He stared at the mirror on the wall, water dripping from his milk-white hair and down his back, seeping into the towel wrapped around him. His eyepatch hung on the bathroom doorknob, its lock slid into place more to hide him from unsuspecting eyes than for privacy. Witches forbid a villager or worse, Pure Vanilla Cookie come walking in and seeing the black scars on his body and the unnatural glow of his right eye. He looked like a monster in his reflection, and he was the one that was used to it. Imagining what would happen if he lost this second chance to something as easily concealed as his appearance-

He sighed. He grabbed the patch from the door handle, tying it back around his head over his eye. It took some work, given his hair was still heavy from his bath, but looking at himself too long gave covering it more priority than drying the mop of hair upon his head. He briefly contemplated cutting it short, before dismissing the idea.

‘Pure Vanilla Cookie recognizes me like this. I shouldn’t drastically change my appearance, especially so early on. I might frighten him if he thinks I’m a stranger.’

He stared at the mirror a second longer. He had yet to put on his nightgown, but even covering that hideous eye made him sigh with relief. He’d never forgive that wretched part of himself for such a vile change. He knew it didn’t care about appearances the moment corruption took hold, but to force it upon him, too?

He turned away. “It cannot be helped,” he murmured aloud. “It is simply the truth of the matter.”

‘Aw, my little parting gift isn’t appreciated?’

He froze.

“What-?”

‘And here I thought you of all people were honest about your feelings! I had to wait until you left before finding out about this!’

A cold feeling rushed over his body.

He looked back up at the mirror.

His reflection stared back.

Smiling.

That sickly cyan eye staring into his very soul.

‘Hellooooo, my darling other half~! Having fun playing family?’

‘What are you doing here?!’ Blueberry Milk Cookie’s words echoed in his mind, not daring to say another word aloud, lest he wake the entire house.

‘Mm, nothing in particular, really. Not much to do inside this wretched tree. I must say, though, I was really hoping for more excitement after the journey here… watching this is almost as boring as sitting for a portrait!’ Shadow Milk Cookie sighed, the reflection moving independently from the cookie projecting it.

‘How?? How are you able to watch me?! That shouldn’t be possible, you’re- trapped! Trapped forever, I should add, that should mean that you have no power!’

‘What a naive assumption. And here I thought you were smart,’ the mirror scoffed. ‘Did I get all the brains in the split? That’s rather unfortunate for you…’

‘I’m not stupid! The Witches chains bind you for all eternity! Any connection with me was severed when the Soul Jam’s power was split!’

‘Tch, tch, tch, sooooo naive indeed. You’re forgetting some crutial details, my “beloved” other half.’

‘Tell me, then, instead of dancing around it like a chicken with its head cut off!’

‘The Soul Jam’s power cannot be entirely severed. That’s why you were forced to bring that snot-nosed brat to a different continent to ensure I could not effectively puppet him.’

‘…’

‘Hehe~! Got your attention now, did I? Yes, I know about the heir. Too bad, so sad, you’re getting nepotismed right out of weilding your own lifeforce!’

‘Silence,’ Blueberry snapped, before thinking a moment more. ‘This must be why I’m here. So long as he doesn’t hold the Soul Jam, you have no will over him. But he still needs it eventually. I’m the beacon that must protect him not only until he’s grown, but from the very power he will grow to inherit.’

‘Yes,’ Shadow replied through a grating smile. ‘It’s so very inconvenient, all this “pure and good” nonsense he has to be. You must be so upset you have to deal with me! You’re already going mad listening to me mock you! Maybe I’ll make you have nightmares every night! Or! I’ll make you hallucinate spiders crawling under your clothes, and snakes in your shoes constricting your legs so you can’t walk! You won’t last so much as a day now that I-‘

“No.”

‘… What.’

“I refuse to be driven mad by you,” Blueberry Milk Cookie whispered, turning away from the mirror.

‘… Huh???! You can’t just- REFUSE to be driven mad! That’s stupid! I am not some meager insect that can be swatted away, you insolent fool!’ The mirror hissed, the furious cookie’s eye flashing with rage.

‘Perhaps not. But you do not worry me in the slightest. Now that I know we are still connected through the Soul Jam, I know exactly what I must do. Not just raise Pure Vanilla Cookie, but teach him. He will learn how to resist you when the time comes. I will ensure it, and until that day comes, I will suffer the consequences of holding the Light of Truth and its connection with the Sin of Deciet.’

‘That will take years! Decades, even, perhaps even centuries if his life is as long as ours!’

‘I’m sure that’s enough time to grow a tolerance for you.’

‘No one can last forever in torment…’ Shadow Milk Cookie growled, eyes narrowed into slits.

‘Not forever,’ he agreed, pulling on his blue tunic. ‘But this is my purpose now. Just as yours is to be trapped “forever”. Such fickle wording, don’t you think?’

Before the reflection could retort further, Blueberry Milk Cookie unlocked the door stepping out and closing it behind him.

[isntverynice]

Im feeling a lot of emotions about this. Writing is crazy.

[ckret2]

Chapter 51 of human Bill Cipher is once more the Mystery Shack's prisoner: Dipper and Mabel try to figure out what the Axolotl's poem means; Dipper gets the hang of astral projection; and... whatever's going on up there happens.

####

Ford and Dipper came back into the shack through the gift shop; Ford didn't want to risk crossing paths with Bill. While Dipper went into the house, Ford went down—returning to the safety of his subterranean study.

Once Ford had put on the old black trench coat he'd worn during his multiversal travels and gotten comfortable at his desk, he pulled out Journal 5 to document the events of the last few days. In a cheap ballpoint pen, he wrote, I've lost my #1 Grunkle pen (and favorite coat) to the waters of Lake Gravity Falls. And then, deciding this didn't adequately express his feelings, he drew a small frown. That coat had served him well for decades, and he'd really liked that pen. It did write excellently, and it had reminded him of his gniece and gnephew.

He spent three pages documenting the eclipse—what happened, what readings he'd taken, what he and Dipper observed—and then another four pages talking about Bill. What he'd told them, why Ford had dismissed it; his claims about a trans-dimensional axolotl distorting gravity with its migration; the statue, the rescue, the breakdown.

The act of writing always helped Ford clarify his thoughts and untangle mysteries; it wasn't until he was writing that he realized the limbs Bill had said he couldn't feel were the ones that had broken off the statue.

He listed the rules of the chess variants he could remember Bill inventing. He drew Bill huddled in front of the board, grim, tear-streaked, exhausted; and then scratched out his face, embarrassed at the thought of immortalizing such a raw moment for his private viewing.

He wrote, There's still a slim possibility that the entire "eclipse," start to finish, was Bill's masterfully-orchestrated scheme to make us pity and trust him; but it's unlikely. Although Bill is fiendish enough, he isn't currently powerful enough, and his lies certainly aren't elaborate enough. If he could pull off such a byzantine ruse, then he could just as easily escape—and if he can escape, why hasn't he? Bill may be insane, but he's never been THAT irrational.

And so, even as twisted as Bill's idea of "friendship" is... for the very first time, I'm convinced that he was telling the truth all along when he said he wants me as his friend. It's not an act. He risked his life to save someone who's an active threat to him.

And at the end of it all—though I'm grateful to be alive in spite of my own stubbornness—do I like him any better for it?

Ford leaned back and shut his eyes, sifting through the inner tumult of anger and old hurt that defined most of his memories of Bill, looking to see if anything had changed.

There was a sore, tender spot in his emotions, a place beginning to rot with remorse; when he prodded at those emotions, he found that it was shame over his own harsh conduct of the last couple of days. But he was only ashamed of how cruelly he'd acted; he wasn't ashamed that Bill was the one he'd done it to.

Outside of that tender spot—regret over his own behavior—nothing else had changed.

No. I still hate him. I'm grateful to be alive, but I hate him. He hasn't undone anything he did to my family and me, and he never will. Forgiveness can't be purchased with favors.

I'm only relieved at the certainty of it. Bill has committed an act that can't possibly be a lie. I know, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that he's shown me the truth; and the truth is he'd rather see me alive than dead. Whatever other lies he may tell, I can hold on to that fact.

Bill's miserable eyes peered out at Ford between the scribbles he'd drawn across his face. It was truly a pity that Ford had to hate him. Pity that Bill hadn't been somebody better. He could have been better.

Ford couldn't find it in himself to be embarrassed that he'd filled four pages talking about the monster he'd already wasted so many more on. Bill had been right about him: You might hate me to my face, but behind my back you're as obsessed with me as ever. The only thing Bill didn't understand was that hatred and obsession weren't mutually incompatible.

####

"Hey, Dipper," Mabel said, unfolding the living room sofa bed. 

"Hey, Mabel," Dipper said, passing through living room on his way to the stairs. He climbed up to the attic.

He came back down from the attic. "Mabel. Why's Bill asleep in your bed."

"He really needed a nap," Mabel said.

"Okay but why on your bed?"

Mabel pouted. "Dipper, do you realize he's never slept on a real bed? Ever?"

Dipper tried to imagine sleeping on a couple couch cushions on the floor every night. "Yeah, okay, that does kinda suck." Even if it was Bill's own fault he wouldn't sleep in the living room.

By unspoken mutual agreement, having a Bill in the bedroom followed the same law as finding a centipede in the bathroom. The law was "that's the centipede's bathroom now." So once the folding bed was set up, they sat on it to serve as their hang-out spot for the evening and caught each other up on what they'd done the last couple of days.

After Dipper & Co. had left, Grenda had come over to take advantage of the low gravity to retrieve the kite that had been stuck in a tree near the Mystery Shack since last summer (it was, tragically, too tattered to salvage), and then they'd gone over to Candy's house to photograph each other performing feats of impossible strength. (Mabel would be sending some pictures to their parents to confuse them, and adding the rest to her summer scrapbook.) She'd spent the next day breaking the trampoline world record until Soos came outside and said gravity was probably too low for it to be safe to be up in the air anymore, if Bill's warnings about being off the ground when gravity hit zero were true; at which point Mabel had hung around inside air-swimming until she suddenly slammed against the ceiling, and then the ground. She was fine. She just had a couple of bruises. She showed Dipper her bruises.

In return, Dipper told Mabel about how their quest had gone: the checks for micro-rips, Bill's increasingly frantic warnings, the lake—

("You got to see a bajillion magical axolotls and I didn't?!")

—the cliff, the Axolotl, Dipper's near-death experience, and what he now knew about his out-of-body dreams.

"Seriously?" Mabel hissed, eyes bugging out. "And he had us looking up lucid dreaming books! What a jerk!"

"I know! He could have just ignored the whole thing, we didn't even think it was anything but dreams."

"And I'd thought he was being so helpful, too! Like he was really trying to make up for giving you 'nightmares'!" Mabel laughed in disbelief and flopped down on the flimsy mattress. "All that because he just didn't want us to know how it was really his fault? Biiill, ugh."

His fault. Dipper hesitated, wondering whether he should tell Mabel what Bill had said about Mabel's Fault; then decided against it. Bill had probably been telling the truth when he'd said he only wanted all the credit for Weirdmageddon.

But—Dipper did tell her about Bill saving their lives. He would have felt like a liar if he hadn't—like he was trying to trick his sister into thinking Bill was worse than he already was. He hoped Ford wouldn't mind; but how could he not tell Mabel?

"He could have just let you die and didn't?" Mabel turned that over in her head, processing this sudden shift in Bill's behavior. "Wow. I'm impressed."

He also told her about their previous encounter with the Axolotl. Considering the other lies Bill had told recently, anything he said about them meeting the Axolotl was dubious at best; but Dipper could remember the Axolotl, so maybe some of it was true, even if Bill had twisted as much as he could. ("The Axolotl said hi, by the way." "Aww. Tell him hi back!" "Yeah, I... don't know how to do that.")

Dipper laid out his journal between them on the folding bed, and Mabel read over the couplet a few times. "'Sixty degrees that come in threes, watches from within birch trees'..."

"It's got to be talking about Bill," Dipper said. "Equilateral triangles have three sixty-degree angles. I just don't know why the Axolotl wanted to talk to us about him."

Mabel frowned at the lines. "I think... I remember meeting him too," she said.

"You do?"

"Kinda. Like in a dream," she said. "We were in some kind of futury space race car. And he had a really comfortable beanbag chair."

"Yes! I remembered the beanbag chair, too!" And he hadn't mentioned it in his journal. "This is great! Talking about it must... must cause us to remember, somehow. Maybe since the universe where we met the Axolotl doesn't exist anymore, our memories of it are... detached or something? Psychically floating around between dimensions until we try to remember them?" He took in Mabel's skeptical frown and shrugged. "I don't know!"

She scrunched up her face. "Ugh. Last summer's first-grader time travel was complicated enough. This is like college-level time travel. Maybe we can ask Bill how it works?"

She said it so easily, like she thought it was actually a good idea. Right after she'd heard about the lucid dreaming thing, too. "I don't think he'd help." Dipper lowered his voice. "He really didn't want Grunkle Ford and me to find out about the Axolotl—and he kept telling me not to think about what the Axolotl told me. He's trying to cover something up."

"Oo-oo-ooh." Voice dropped to a whisper, Mabel said, "Do you think it's some kind of Space Axolotl conspiracy?"

"It could be," Dipper said. "All I know is he was trying to tell us something important about Bill. Some kind of prophecy, or... maybe a warning...?"

He trailed off. Mabel had stopped listening to Dipper. She was rereading the couplet Dipper had written, moving her lips like she was murmuring under her breath—but whatever she was saying, it was much longer than the couplet Dipper had written down. Distractedly, she said, "Do you have a pen?"

"Yeah, here." Dipper quickly handed over the pen he kept in his vest.

Mabel clicked it, went to the bottom of the page, and wrote: A different form, a different time.

Dipper sucked in a sharp breath as the words snapped into place in his mind. "That's it! That was the last line! What else do you remember?"

"That's it," Mabel said. "It was free form poetry with a bunch of rhyme pairs."

"I don't think free form poetry rhymes."

"Pbbbt." Mabel blew a raspberry and shoved Dipper's face. "Whatever! You know what I mean." She pointed at the last line. "Do you think the poem's about why Bill's here? He time traveled to the Mystery Shack in a new body..."

"Exactly! Bill must be back here for a reason. He's got all those powers—or, used to, anyway—and he knows more about the multiverse than anybody on Earth... Maybe there's some kind of big threat coming, and Bill's the only one who can stop it, and—and the Axolotl wanted us to know...?"

"I like the sound of that," Mabel said. "That'd basically make him a hero, right?"

Dipper grimaced. "I mean. I guess? But we're talking about Bill. If he does help us stop a threat, it'd be like if a serial killer picked up a hitchhiker and killed him, and then it turned out the hitchhiker was an even worse serial killer."

"That still sounds kinda heroic to me."

"Pfff, okay." He looked at his journal. "But... what is he here to do?"

Mabel considered what they'd already written. "Maybe we can use him to spy on our enemies through birch trees!"

"Thaaat's probably not it."

"No, I think I'm on to something. I can feel it."

There was a lot of empty space between his couplet and Mabel's line. "There's more we're missing, though. Maybe the rest of the poem describes the threat? Or what we need to get Bill to do?"

"I can't remember anything else, though."

"Me neither."

They stared at the page together, waiting for something to come to their blank minds. Mabel looked at the fish tank. "Hey, Primrose! Do you know anything?"

The pet axolotl in the tank ignored her serenely.

Dipper said, "'Primrose'?"

"Yeah, last summer Grunkle Stan said her name is Freakface, but I thought she deserved a cuter name. She's primrose color!"

"Ford says he originally named him Nikola."

Mabel gasped. "Nikki..."

Dipper twisted around to look at the axolotl. "Do you know anything? Do you... get messages from the Axolotl's heralds, or anything...?"

Nikola slowly opened his mouth, and slowly closed it.

Mabel said, "Hey. The Axolotl's one of those dimension-crossy time-travely guys, right? He probably wouldn't have given us a prophecy in the wrong timeline and then made us forget it unless he knew we'd remember it in time in the rightdimension!"

"I guess," Dipper said uncertainly.

"So we don't need to worry about it! We'll remember it when we need to."

"Unless this timeline's going to branch, and the only one where we survive is the one where we put all our effort into trying to remembering—"

"Shhh!" Mabel put a finger over Dipper's mouth. "Uh-uh. No college time travel. We'll be fine!"

Dipper pushed her over. "Okay, but we should at least try a little to remember what the Axolotl told us."

"What if we work on it separately?" Mabel propped herself up on an elbow. "Instead of just sitting around thinking about it. And whenever we remember a line, we can tell each other and see if it makes anything click."

"That might be faster," Dipper said, stroking his chin. "We're already remembering different lines."

"Yeah! And that lucid dreaming book said something about focusing on a problem before you sleep so you can figure it out in your dreams! We can just work on it in our sleep and we'll remember it all in no time!"

Dipper laughed. "What? No way, I think lucid dreaming is just one of those made up pop psychology things. I didn't get it to work at all." Either it didn't work or Bill had deliberately recommended a terrible book.

"I did! I can remember like... eighty percent more dreams. And I can tell when I'm dreaming a lot more often!"

"Huh." Or, maybe Dipper just wasn't doing it right. "Maybe I need to start over from step one. Do you know where the book we were using went?"

"Over here!" Mabel had set a couple library books on the end table next to the sofa bed; she pulled out the second one, which had a glittery pink bookmark with a cat on it stuck two-thirds of the way through. "Just don't lose my bookmark."

"Thanks." He'd reread the first step before bed. "We should probably be getting ready for bed anyway, huh?"

"Seriously?! It's barely bedtime!" And when the adults weren't watching, official bedtime was an hour and a half before Actual Bedtime.

"I'm exhausted. I just hiked up and down a mountain and faced down death."

Mabel pointed at Nikola. "You faced down a big salamander."

"Close enough."

They went upstairs, brushed their teeth, went to their bedroom...

And stopped in the door. Bill was still asleep. "Oh. Right," Dipper said.

He was curled into a ball on his left side, facing the wall, covered with only the zodiac blanket and his borrowed/stolen top hat sitting on the side of his head. He didn't use a pillow; he'd pushed Mabel's pillows and dolls behind himself to form a squishy makeshift fortress.

"Please don't wake him up," Mabel whispered. (She'd already set up the folding bed for herself; she'd clearly planned on this.) "He's had a really really hard time the last couple of days, and I think he needs as much sleep in a real bed as he can get, and it's just for one night, and I'm sure he'd rather sleep than do anything evil—"

"He said something, didn't he?"

Mabel paused. "Yeah. I think seeing his body really messed him up."

Dipper sighed. "We were trying to keep him away from it." He didn't want Mabel to think they'd forced him to stare his own death in the face. "But he did that... eye thing and looked through the trees, and..."

Mabel nodded.

Well. Dipper couldn't kick him out now. For Mabel's sake.

As children, occasionally when they got hotel rooms with a bed too few, their parents would stick them in one bed with a barrier of pillows in between them. At age thirteen and without two crabby parents trying to get them to just go to bed after a long plane flight, they unanimously vetoed that plan. Dipper decided against asking Stan if he could sleep in Ford's unoccupied bed, both because he suspected Stan would just go upstairs and drag Bill out of the room and because he didn't want Stan to think he was scared of Bill. He wasn't scared of Bill. Not anymore. He could handle one measly night in the same room as him. Anyway, somebody had to make sure he wasn't unsupervised in their bedroom all night, right?

Dipper and Mabel quietly set a floor mirror and old lamp next to Mabel's bed, draped a sheet between them, taped on a pink poster that said "WARNING! TRIANGLE ZONE!" and was covered in stickers of triangular objects, and decided Dipper was adequately shielded. If Bill did get up during the night, he'd probably trip through the sheet and wake half the house before he got anywhere near Dipper.

Dipper went to sleep with a baseball bat in his hands.

####

"Okay," Bill said, hands on his sides, "what am I looking at here?"

The feral band members of Sev'ral Timez turned toward Bill, eyes reflecting in the dim light. They were squatting around Bill's petrified corpse like a pack of apes examining a sleek black monolith.

"Hey girl," Creggy G. said.

"Hey," Bill said. He looked down at himself. His onyx black feet hovered over the ground and the yellow glow from his exoskeleton illuminated the clearing. "Lemme cut to the chase, is this gonna turn into a raunchy dream? My corporeal love life is about as cold and dry as Antarctica, I keep hoping one of my dreams will get a little hotter and wetter—"

"Nah, G," Deep Chris said. "Mr. Bratsman got us fixed."

"Aw."

"We're here to pay you reverence for freeing our minds from the chains of the conventional," Greggy C said, gesturing to Bill's corpse. Leggy P was kneeling and bowing to it and Chubby Z was posing for it. "We want to help free you like you tried to help free humanity."

Bill's eye narrowed. He tapped a finger against the edge of one brick as he considered this offer. Finally, skeptically, he said, "Fine. I'll bite. Why should I think you can help me?"

"Because we can give you the understanding your heart's been missing, girl. You're just like us," Chubby Z said. "A horror never meant to exist, born of a dream to construct the perfect golden idol, forced to dwell within an unnaturally-fabricated human shell."

Bill tilted his head thoughtfully. "I'm with you so far."

"We want you to join us," Deep Chris said. "Cavort with us in the silvan night, G. Shun the harsh light of the spotlight for the healing salve of moonbeams. We'll get drunk on the sweet fermented summer berries, uncaring of how the brambles prick our flesh. We'll dance in a frenzy of ecstasy and only sleep when the morning sun lifts the dew from the flowers and the sweat from our skin. It'll be straight Dionysian, boo."

"We can kiss the hot trees," Creggy G said.

Bill grabbed his shoulder. "Oh, you're the human that keeps making out with birch trees! I knew your face was familiar!" He paused. "So... are there any eligible ones around here?"

"Sure, girl, just downstream."

"If I'd known, I would've polished myself first."

"Say you'll join us, Bill girl," Deep Chris said. The band crowded around Bill to either side, posing around him—the backup dancers for the star singer. "You'd be one of us."

"We're already exactly the same," Creggy G said, holding up a mirror so that it reflected his and Bill's faces beside each other. In Bill's human face were two empty white eyes with pinprick pupils and pale blue irises, exactly the same as the eyes of the Sev'ral Timez boys.

He sat up with a gasp, hands flying to his face. There were still green boughs at the edges of his dreaming vision, blending into the wooden boards of the Mystery Shack's attic. Before sleep had fully fled his mind, he seized up the zodiac blanket draped over his body and stared into his embroidered eye.

The eye stared back at him. Through it, he could see his horrified sleepy face, and his normal slitted yellow eyes. His connection to the blanket's eye disappeared as he finished waking up.

He heaved a sigh of relief and flopped back down. He'd been lucid, but he hadn't been in control of that dream. He still needed practice.

He rolled toward the light of the window, groped around beneath it until he found his journal, grabbed up his crayons, and flipped pages blearily until he found the first blank one. He started writing down his dream, pausing only briefly as he tried to figure out how to translate "Sev'ral Timez" before settling on a sufficiently goofy way to misspell "several times" in Plaintext.

He made it halfway down the page before he stopped. Hold on. This wasn't his beautiful journal. These were not his beautiful crayons. He checked the cover and grimaced in displeasure when he saw a pine tree rather than a hand. Dipper's journal. Bill ripped out the page, ate it, and set the journal and Mabel's crayons back on the table  under the bedroom window.

"What was that," Dipper asked, "some kind of Morse code?"

Bill yelped and twisted around. Dipper's soul was hovering above Mabel's headboard, watching over Bill's shoulder.

"Hey! Back, foul ghost!" Bill snatched up Mabel's pillow and swung it at Dipper.

"Ow—Hey! How did you hit me, I'm in the mindscape—"

"I said back!" Bill swung again, chasing Dipper off the bed. "Back into your fleshy tomb!" He climbed off the bed, stumbled into Dipper and Mabel's trap, tripped through the sheet and probably woke up half the house.

He yanked the sheet off and flung the pillow at Dipper by its corner. "Now get back in your body, go to sleep, and leave me alone."

"I don't know how to get back in it. I just wait until it happens by itself," Dipper said, floating irritably over his sleeping body, arms crossed. "Why do you think I just wander around every time I have this dream?" He paused. "Right—it's not a dream, is it."

Bill sighed heavily. "Try putting your body on like..." He almost said like an exoskeleton, remembered his audience, and amended himself: "Like it's clothing. I usually start with the hands. Just like putting on gloves!"

Dipper looked at the cold fingers wrapped tightly around the baseball bat. "How do I put hands on like gloves? There's no opening or—"

"Just try it, would you?" Bill sat tiredly on the edge of Mabel's bed.

Dipper shot him an irritated look, but pressed his ghostly hands against his fleshly ones, passing through the skin until one set of fingers rested inside the other. A fingertip twitched. 

Bill gestured with one hand, continue. "Now the sleeves."

"I know how to get dressed." Dipper laid down in his body, forearm into forearm, shoulder into shoulder—until he was wholly back inside. He sat up, awake. "Huh."

"There, see?" Bill said. "And if you want to take it back off, just do the same thing in reverse. Like degloving your body from your soul!"

"Did you have to phrase it like that?" Still, Dipper tried it, peeling out of his body from the fingertips up. He left his body sitting upright as he hovered over it.

Bill chuckled tiredly. "Lookit your face, staring at nothing. Stupid looking."

"Shut up." He slid back into his body, more quickly now that he knew what he was doing.

"Great," Bill said. "Now that you know how to get back in your body, never do that again." He flopped back onto Mabel's bed and rolled over to face the wall. "It's a pain in my base having you wander around all night."

"Then you should've thought of that before you ripped my soul out of my body," Dipper grumbled. "Can you reattach me to my body?"

"Sure, easy." He lifted a hand to point down at his regrettably human form. "Not like this, though. Wanna help reattach me to my body?"

"Never in a million years."

"Then come back in a million years. There's nothing I can do for you until then." Bill dragged Mabel's zodiac blanket back over himself. "So sorry. Go to sleep. Leave me alone."

Dipper bet Bill could do it and was only saying he couldn't to try to trick Dipper into helping him. But he lay back down—clutching his bat again—and shut his eyes.

After a moment, Bill asked, "Where's Mabel? Sleepover?"

"Sofa bed in the living room."

"Right."

And then there was silence.

Several minutes passed. Dipper nearly fell back asleep. He heard Bill climbing out of bed and creeping across the room; but the footsteps didn't approach Dipper's bed, so he didn't open his eyes.

A few minutes after that, Dipper heard him come back, walking more heavily. He cracked open an eye to see what Bill was up to.

He was carrying Mabel, who was still asleep; his arms were trembling from her weight, but even at that Dipper hadn't known Bill was that strong. With a quiet grunt, he set her on her bed, then haphazardly tossed her sheet and zodiac blanket over her. He picked up his top hat from the bed and put it on; and then he wandered off, footsteps quiet as a ghost, and Dipper heard the creak of the door as he left the bedroom.

That was a lot nicer than Dipper had expected from Bill. Maybe he did care about Mabel in his own way.

Mabel rolled over and latched on to one of her dolls. Dipper shut his eye and fell back asleep.

####

(My favorite part of writing this was Bill dreaming about Sev'ral Timez saying the most absurdly flowery things imaginable. Anyway, let me know what y'all think about this week's chapter! And reminder that I MIGHT skip next week or the week after because the next couple chapters need heavier editing than usual.)

[awarmbowlofhomemadesoup]

What I love about Dungeon Meshi is that it writes platonic relationships with the same weight romantic stories would normally be written.

The Character that Got Their Heart Broken Too Many Times

Humanity broke Laois' heart. This is taken advantage later on by the Wingled Lion, but I digress.

Laois got bullied in all-boys school to the point that he ran away to become a soldier. Heartbreak #1.

He got harrassed in the training camp to the point that he became a deserter. Heartbreak #2.

The combination of these events were so bad, his lack of basic self-care can be a sign of a depressive state. If Falin hadn't joined him, who knows what would've happened to him.

Laois was so happy when he became friends with Shuro and felt so betrayed when Toshiro said he couldn't stand him. Not exactly a heartbreak #3 but it hurt all the same. They got past it but Laois remembers.

And when Kabru, for once in his life, stopped playing poker and laid down his cards, Laois wasn't going to let his heart be hurt for the fourth time.

The biggest thing that stands out to me in this manner is how Kabru's blurted confession of wanting to be friends with Laois was treated as much as a big revelation as a romantic one. Because the weight of that confession is Kabru's character development.

The Character Whose Sincerity Doesn't Come Easy for Him

This guy grew up being infantilized and not taken seriously by the elves for being a short-lived race. So, he honed diplomacy as sharp as his assassin's blade.

He knows the right things to say and when to say them, making him well-liked by everyone (much to his team's chagrin over their loved ones). And yet his personal cause puts a distance between him and his trusted teammates (including his childhood friend).

To say his true feelings and thoughts would end up with long-lived races dismissing him for being unwise and irrational.

So he keeps his cards to himself and works with subtlety throughout the manga, until things got worse, and he couldn't make Laois stay.

And he was left with nothing but to be sincere.

Right from the start, he said he wanted the Touden siblings to be unmasked. But in the end, he unmasked himself, much to his horror.

Addition edit: Kabru has been keeping his cards close to himself for so long, I don't think he realized what he really feels until he blurted it out. He chased after Laois throughout the dungeon because Laois might defeat the mad sorcerer. But for a guy who wants to understand everyone, he never understands what he feels about Laois and what that feeling means until his brain catches up with his mouth.

After decking Laois for not believing him, Kabru elaborated in his confession. He has developed a platonic crush (plush for short) or desire to be friends with Laois because:

1. Kabru wants to understand how Laois could love the very thing Kabru hates. Hate is just another face of fear. We fear what we don't understand. To understand Laois is to understand monsters. I think Kabru finds it admirable that Laois could admire monsters when everyone just view them as a threat.

2. He wants Laois to care about the same thing he does, which is saving humanity. Laois and co. are willing to side with the demon to protect Marcille from the Canaries. By asking to be Laois friend, Kabru becomes Laois' link to humanity that whatever they would do from there with the demon, please don't forget how it might affect other people outside his friends. And by gods, this is important to Kabru's development because he has never asked for help for his cause nor asked anyone to care because he's too used to the self-serving nature of all races. And yet, he chose to believe in Laois. Because if Laois could go that for his sister and elven friend, what more if he could do the same for what Kabru cares the most?

However, it was only in the end that they were able to talk after things had settled down. And they are so different and so alike at the same time.

Source

In this scene, there are two differing thoughts:

Laois, who experienced social rejection growing up: Do you still mean it?

Kabru, who had to deal with those of higher power: Are you testing me?

But they're still thinking the same thing: Is this real?

Like, all of their motivations have the weight often molded into romantic plots in any other story. A character who got their heart broken too many times and another character whose honesty does not come easy for them. But it's not a romantic story, but a start of a beautiful friendship.

There are more examples out there, but this is what came to my mind. Feel free to add more.

[mostly-imagines]

answering a question nobody asked: what are jason's love languages ranked?

giving:

5 ) gift giving is bottom tier for him. i just dont see how he could value that more than any of the above because of the way he grew up. like material things and money seem like something he’d reject more than anything to me. but he does still give you presents, of course. he’ll buy you flowers randomly and jewelry and little things he’d noticed you admiring. but i dont think he really does it as a method of expressing his love for you so much as just like a little nice thing to do for you. its not his preferred method of communication, at least.

4 ) a little lower on the list comes words of affirmation because i don’t think it comes as naturally to him. he’s a man of few words and those chosen are caked in sarcasm and dry in a way that attempts to push people away, even if he doesn’t mean to. i just think his words can be rough around the edges even if his meaning isn’t. when he can work through it though, his words are very gentle and genuine. not one for hyperbole but really truly means what he says. he hears that you’re insecure about how a dress looks on you and he’s telling you to ‘shut up, you look good.’ or you’re nervous and he’ll say “you’re fine, don’t worry about it.” to someone else’s ears it might sound dismissive but you know that not how he means it. there’s a lot of unsaid words with him that are more significant than whats coming out of his mouth. like i said though, only like level 10 acquaintances and you will ever know him well enough to decipher those secret meanings.

3 ) he tends to treat himself like a loner, pulling away from people like second nature, but after he met you he found himself wanting to be around you all the time. he’s not the best with words or romantic gestures so quality time is an easier way of reminding you he loves you. he likes just sitting with you and letting you ramble about your day—listening to your voice is a big part of his calming down process every night. but sitting in comfortable silence with you is probably his favorite. he doesn’t get that with a lot of people. silence—sure; comfortable—not so much. he loves the implied intimacy and trust of quietly cooking, napping together, or doing your own things in the same space.

2 ) physical touch is another big one for him. only unlockable after entering a relationship with him. he does it for a lot of reasons, common ones include: as a reminder that he’s there, to ease anxiety (yours or his own), as a sort of fidget, or if he’s feeling a little possessive. its honestly going to shock his family how much he initiates touch with you. he’ll shove them off of him when they try to hug him and is likely to throw hands if they get too touchy. so when they meet you for the first time and he’s squeezing your hand in his the whole night, shoulder to shoulder with you—they’re surprised, to say the least. as time goes on they start to notice that he looks borderline uncomfortable when he’s not touching you—like he doesn’t know what to do with his body. his favorite ways to touch you (non sexually) include: keeping you pressed back to his chest, having your leg hooked atop his when you’re sitting hanging out, hand on the back of your neck, and hands on your hips are a must.

1 ) jason's prime method of communication is through acts of service. he fully believes it’s his responsibility to take care of you and doing things for you comes very naturally to him anyways. he’s known to refuse to let you carry things, let you have the comfortable chair, give you the last of his snack, that kind of thing. he also wants to make your life easier as much as possible—he’ll insist on you telling him about things you need, especially things you aren’t able to do yourself. you never ever have to hire a guy to come look at anything broken in your apartment, jason’s got that shit under wraps. he’d honestly be a little hurt if you did. he’s got a wide array of skills under his belt, he can fix leaky pipes, install locks, build furniture, repair cars, you name it.

receiving:

5 ) he always appreciates getting gifts from you but it’s not necessarily his preferred way of receiving your love. gift giving and acts of service are bottom tier because they’re the only ones that he feels like are taking away from you. costing you money or energy, wasting it on him—he doesn’t want you to do that. he can’t feel loved by the gesture when he’s busy concerning himself with the idea that he’s putting you out for it. when you do give him gifts he likes it most when they’re little things, especially things that you made. make him a friendship bracelet, a simple painting, a fucking paper crane—he’ll love it. with things like that, it makes him really happy to see how excited you are to show him and that’s when he feels the love from you.

4 ) it’s always a little hit or miss with acts of service. he has a hard time accepting help, especially from you. he tends to feel like its his job to take care of you and if you have to help him, he’s doing something wrong. the best way to perform acts of service for him is through littler things. cooking his favorite dinner, checking up on how his stitches are healing, covering him up when its cold and he’s too busy/stubborn to go get a blanket. don’t make a whole thing about it, just do it and he’ll notice and he’ll be thinking about it for a while.

3 ) for the same reasons as mentioned earlier, he loves quality time with you. he prefers being on the receiving end of it though because he is a little insecure and absolutely loves when you go out of your way to spend time with him. tell him you want to be around him, tell him you miss him, tell him you’re happy he’s here. warning: he might cry.

2 ) you’ll notice this one because his breath will literally hitch. physical touch is one of the most prominent methods of affection in your relationship and he never gets used to it. the presence of just your head on his shoulder or your hand in his provides such a noticeable release of tension for him. he’s a huge huge fan of you tracing patterns anywhere on his skin, playing with his hair, and wrapping your arms around his middle so you can hold him close. climb on his lap unexpectedly and his heart will skip a few beats.

1 ) he won't ever admit it, but words of affirmation are his absolute biggest weakness. your boy has a praise kink, but i also think it's difficult for him to accept that so you have to be subtle about it and work up. it gets him really blushy and if you can manage to get him talking, he’s stammering. he can’t hold eye contact for shit when you call him pretty and it’s very amusing to you to see such a quick and drastic shift in his disposition. things that have straight up put him out of commission include: calling him “my pretty boy,” or “sweet boy,” “you always take such good care of me,” “you’re so strong,” “you’re the love of my life.” “i’m proud of you” will literally put him on his knees.

[backwzzds]

ೃ⁀➷ love me, connie springer (nsfw)

thinking about babydaddy!connie fucking you nice and slow after finding out you got stood up by your date. having little constentina (his idea, but tina for short) for the weekend, your precious angel just couldn’t keep her mouth shut to her daddy when you’d told her you were going on a small ‘dinner’

“she said dinner but that really means date, daddy.”

connie isn’t surprised. no one knew how to handle you beside him. i mean, he’s had your ass in place successfully for nearly ten years; only he was man enough to handle you, your mind, and most of all your body.

you loved connie like no other, you wanted no one else to be the father of your children. but you knew the streets would eventually take him away from you, and you just didn’t wanna stick around for that. not when you had a five year old girl depending on the both of you. connie looked for other ways to make bread without selling or doing anything…illegal but it was hard to match the stacks he was bringing home every weekend.

your separation was a one sided agreement anyways it seems. to you? you two were broken up. to connie delulu ass? you were his wife and you’re ‘smoking dick if you think ion belong to you and you’on belong to me.’

you didn’t even have any words for the absence of your so called ‘date.’. after an hour of waiting, you figured you’d call in to check on tina. ringing connie, your babyfather answered on the first ring, of course with a wood in his mouth and multiple lights on his face, signaling he was watching tv.

“hey,” your voice is solemn and low. you really were tired and ashamed to say anything more.

“hey mama, you okay?” connie’s hazel brown eyes quickly flick over to yours through the screen.

you shrug though he can’t see it. “i’m okay.” you admit. “just callin’ to check on my baby.” the frame was only on your face, but from the small shake of your hand, connie had managed to get a glimpse of a pretty black dress you’d sported, breasts looking three times as big as it usually did because of your sitting position. he could tell you dressed up for the night.

“yeah? she good, just upstairs sleepin’ right now. how was your date, pretty?” you hear connie turn down the tv in the background and give you his full intention.

you furrow your brows. “what? boy, how’d you know about it?”

your baby father blows out a huff of smoke and chuckles, flashing his gold canines. he wasn’t gon snitch on his lil informant princess. “i got my ways. tell me bout it baby.”

with a roll of your eyes, you let out a tired sigh and felt your shoulders sag. “wouldn’t know. the nigga never showed.”

connie furrows his own thick eyebrows. “what you mean? he told you he couldn’t come?” he asked. from the shake of your head, you see his face soften on the screen. “come over n’ smoke with me. lemme make you feel better.”

you kiss your teeth and throw your head back, already knowing where the conversation was headed. embarrassment flooded your expression. “you eating my pussy is not gonna make me feel better, constance.”

connie kissed his teeth and waved you off dismissively. “you’on know that.”

a blush can’t help but creep its way onto your brown cheeks. “i’m supposed to be staying away from you, ya know.”

connie gives you a knowing grin, shamelessly flexing the two deep dimples in his cheeks that constentina inherrited from him. “yeah? how’s that going for you, mama?”

“obviously not good because i’m actually considering your offer of being a booty call tonight?” you laugh.

“come onnn mama, tina’s sleep, i got a wood rolled for you and i want you here.” your ex compromised with a kiss of his teeth. “lemme rub ya feet and all on ya butt i promise you’ll feel better.

“i’m tired and don’t feel like driving, con,” you whine in the same tone. you knew if he didn’t have your daughter he’d already be at your door, but you refused to risk waking her up in a car ride over here.

connie rolls his eyes and puts you on pause for the moment. a minute later he comes back on screen and takes a pull of his backwood. “your uber on the way baby.”

“ooh daddy,” you cried, trying your hardest to breathe straight. “you know i cum fast like this, oh shit,” connie had your legs spread wide open, forcing your huge tits up against the bottom of your face as he pumped in and out of you.

“you like that mama, like when i fuck you nice and slow? all romantic n’ shit?” connie teased. tears streamed down your face and he wasted no time in kissing them from your pretty face.

you’re too far in euphoria to even fully comprehend exactly what he’s saying. “yes, i love when you stroke this pussy so deep daddy.”

connie holds your breasts up damn near to your face and takes his time sucking on each of your nipples, making sure to stretch and pull it all the way back as far as it could go, grinning at the sound of it snapping back toward you. “you’on need no one else to love you like this but me, you heard?”

you can’t help but shake your head, the small responsible part of you left that hadn’t been fucked out by connie yet (though he was close) was slowly bringing you to reality. “no,” you respond.

“nah, nah, dead that shit or imma stop,” your ex threatened, straightening his back out so he stood tall, yet still very deep inside your gummy walls. you can’t help but stare down the tattoos that littered his body; many dedicated to you and your shared daughter. “you grippin’ me so tight baby, boutta make me cum, fuck,” connie throws his head back and whines. “tell me you’re mine n’ we gonna get back together.”

“no, con,” your words were saying one thing, but the cream ring of your arousal forming around connie’s tanned dick was betraying everything leaving your mouth. “w-we’re we’re toxic—oooh, yes, right there right there!”

suddenly, a large pair of hands come to wrap around your neck, gripping lightly. “tell me you’re mine or im not fuckin’ this pussy,” he orders. “you know i don’t be bluffing, mama. ‘specially when it come to your spoiled ass déjame oírte decirlo.”

more tears fall from your eyes as you feel your lower region bubble in evstasy. “con—“

“say it if you wanna cum.” connie’s grip around your neck tightens as he inevitably starts to babble. he was not gonna let up off you no matter what. “come on mama, say it n lemme give you another baby. gonna make you a mama all over again, want you so full of my babies, pretty—fuck,” he breathed out. “you know daddy sorry, you gonna forgive him?”

it wasn’t until connie started to add his thumb rubbing circles around your clit did you finally fold and give in. “oh fuck, yes! yes yes i forgive you con—please—“

“go head and cum mami, te quiero.” connie breathed out, feeling his own orgasm approach. “te amo joder joder por favor dame más hijos mami te estoy rogando déjame correrte dentro de ti,” the man curses into the atmosphere as he strokes himself in you a few more times.

“yes yes,” you nod in response to his pleads of cumming in you. a nanosecond later, connie’s cumming deep into you until he ends up shooting nothing but blanks. you’re full to the brim to the point where drops of his cum couldn’t help but ooze out between your puffy cunt.

“dio mio.”

[kithtaehyung]

holiday (3tan special) | myg

title: holiday  pairing: 3tan!yoongi x reader(f)  series: masterlist | three tangerines | fireworks | house party | basketball | stay | sidewalk talk | friends | dalo | like that | anytime | sundress season | yoongi’s interlude | forfeit | flutter | video call | busted | broken (pt. 1) | broken (pt. 2) | lollipop rating/genre: pg (18+) ; fluff ; brother’s best friend au, implied age gap au, holiday au summary: from what you can gather, holiday gift exchanges are supposed to be pretty straightforward. but this one quickly escalates. because no one can follow directions. note: this is all thanks to the person that suggested a 3tan crew secret santa! they don’t do actual secret santa, but they do host a gift exchange. so enjoy this speedily but still tenderly written holiday special! i wanted to get it posted asap so that we could all have it during the holiday season. hope it helps lifting spirits in any way<3  warnings: yoongi looks like sin, but reader does too🤭, kissing, no one follows directions, but especially jimin, hella kissing, no fr jimin is chaos incarnate, sibling holiday woes, tense situations, tender moments, gift exchanges, dialogue heavy i’m so sorry, also not too edited i'm sorry again sdfkljdskl. reader is adorable y'all i wanna cry, 3tan crew being wholesome af drop date: december 27th, 2024, 8:37pm est word count: 8.1k bc i love y’all???

-

-

“Wait… I’m in this, too?” 

Your brother winces while checking his phone, probably also seeing the texts that Jimin sent to a freshly created group chat. “Tae and Chim roped us in this time. But it’s cool if you don’t wanna.” 

As you both don work attire in your foyer, you shake your head, one hand firm on your bag strap, “I don’t even know how they work.”

“I think we random draw names. Then just give a gift to whoever we get.” 

Seeing the names and numbers in here, you’re already running through a lot of possibilities. Maybe too many possibilities. But you don’t wanna make things more complicated or awkward, so you quickly concede, “I mean.. I’m down if you are.”

“I guess it’s cool.”

Head lowered, you notice that your brother’s shoes are the ones you gave him for his birthday a couple years ago. Because those days are the only ones you both celebrate every passing run of three hundred and sixty-five. “At least we’re doing something this year.” 

He chuckles to his feet. “Two years in a row.” 

Your sad laugh tumbles and rolls next to his. “Wild.” 

“Hey.” When he pauses, it’s to wait for you to look up. “If you ever wanna talk about it, we can.” 

There are a lot of times in which you dismiss your brother. Because it’s just what siblings do. 

This time is not one of them. 

“Same,” you offer, the weight of the world dragging your smile down. 

He gives you a hug, and you feel the luxury press of his suit as you lean in with scrunched brows. 

Two years in a row. 

Maybe things do suck less with time. 

When you both head out the door to your cars, you wonder if your brother knows how much you appreciate him and his friends for including you in things. Even if you don’t show it as much as you need to. 

Guess this time of year is a good place to start. 

Work drags in the wake of oncoming holiday. 

But you’re learning to appreciate the decorations around the office, including the little cards that coworkers have given you at your desk—despite your many protests that they didn’t have to. 

When you look up, you start to notice other things. Like the way people smile just a little more. Or the way peppermint and cider waft around the building, smelling of sweet instead of spice. 

You wonder if Jungkook has decorated the studio, too. Or if he recruited everyone else to help with decorations, which means that Yoongi and the guys had to fuss with lights and whatever else people spend money on.  

Laughing to your many stacks of papers and documents, you start daydreaming of what it would be like to decorate the house.

Would you and your brother do it someday? You do admit that it’s kinda nice to look around the neighborhood. And when you went into the mountains last year, you concede that the surrounding town decor was pretty inviting. 

Maybe your house would be a little brighter on the inside too if you both just…

You get a notification on your phone. When the screen brightens, you see that it’s for the app that shuffles you all for the gift exchange. 

You have no fucking clue what you’re doing.

But here goes.

Opening and hoping you get someone that’s easy to please, you stare at your device and blink a few very hard times. 

And after every time, you still get a name that has your heart quickening faster than reindeer working overtime. It’s reindeer, right? You think that’s cor—

“You okay?” 

Snapping your head up, you notice that one of your coworkers stopped mid-stride to check on you. Staring at his candy cane tie, you try not to be distracted as you slightly cringe, 

“What do I get a guy for the holidays?”

“Friend or lover?” 

Well, that was not what you expected to hear! 

When your jaw unhinges, you’re quick to snap it back into place. “Umm.” 

“Oh, this is juicy,” he perks up, quickly settling into a nearby chair and resting a strong chin in his hand. “Tell me more, I got time.” 

Laughing, you shake your head while pretending to type on your computer. “Nothing to tell.” 

“That means you got a whole lot.” His eyes are way too shiny right now! “But alright, I’m gonna assume both. In which case, I suggest something nice.” 

“Something nice?” 

“You know, like. Nice nice.” 

“It’s for a gift exchange, though,” you slump, hands stopping on the keys. Looking at his whole holiday ensemble, you divulge, “The money limit’s definitely not enough for nice nice.” 

“Then fuck the limit?” 

Your answer is more of a sound than a word. 

But he does get you to consider, even if just for a little bit. “Maybe…” 

“Fuck the limit,” he advises again. “He’s gonna dig that. Especially since everyone will see it.”

Your face falls from the snowy sky. “Everyone?” 

“Uhh, yeah? You said gift exchange, right? Everyone sees what everyone gets.” 

“Oh. Right,” you pretend to agree to your computer. Because no, you actually didn’t know that. “Guess it’s been awhile.” 

“Well, that’s what makes it fun! Good luck.”  

While you would normally agree, you have a whole hoard of conflicting feelings. Because while seeing Yoongi’s name on your screen is enough to get you giddy as hell, you know there’s a couple people that may not share the same sentiments. Especially if you gift him something nice nice. 

In front of everybody.

However… 

As your striped and jingling coworker strides away with a hum, you drum your fingers on your minimally decorated desk. 

Maybe there is a way you can finess this. 

After a few weeks, the day has come for not just one exchange, but two—your friends also decided to have your own. Because it’s the easiest format, you convinced them with logic, seeing their shock at you being the one to suggest the exchange in the first place. 

When they asked if you were sure, you assured them that it was okay. And the way they all brightened told you that you made a sound decision. Even if they still seemed hesitant, you know it’s because… 

You’ve never done this. 

So as you observe everyone in your bare living room, you start to see how their presence alone illuminates the space, with gifts in shine and glitter painting the area in holiday colors. 

This is nice. 

“So… Uhh.” You clear your throat, watching everyone look at you at the head of your coffee table. “How do we do this?” 

They all laugh before Taehyung explains, “So one of us goes first and says who we got before giving the gift—you can sit, you know.” 

In the midst of more teasing, you settle onto the floor while exclaiming, “I’m nervous, okay! This is really new to me.” 

“You have a gift to give, right?” 

“Yeah?” 

“Then you’re already doing great,” Reia assures, and you’re even more excited to give yours away. Because you drew her name. 

But before you can say that, Taehyung continues, “So after someone gets their gift, they announce who they picked, and so on.” 

“Pretty straightforward,” you observe. “I wanna go first!” 

Dom cackles, “You just wanna get it out of the way.” 

“And?” you question, grinning when you shoot up and grab your very amateurishly wrapped bag. “Okay, okay, I got…”

“This is adorable,” Yuri cuts in, and everyone’s agreement makes you suddenly shy. 

“No! Don’t make fun.” 

“We aren’t!” Taehyung reaches out to rub your leg. “Promise. Who’d you get?” 

“I got… Reia!” You exclaim, raising your bag a bit as she yells with everyone. The sudden raise of noise gets you a little shocked, but hyped nonetheless. And maybe a bit nervous that your gift won’t live up to the excitement. “Sorry about the wrapping job.” 

“What are you talking about, this is so good,” Reia soothes, smiling wide as she delicately takes out the folded paper. “Wow, the wrapping is nice?” 

Dom chimes in as she leans in, “Yeah, this is too good. Did you watch videos?” 

“Uh huh.” 

Everyone laughs again as you keep your nose held high. Because sucky or not, you were not gonna half-ass your first ever gift exchange. With seasoned people, at that. No way. 

When Reia opens the gift you carefully picked while perusing through a local music store, you watch with the anticipation of a small child, eyes wide and waiting. Hoping that the best outcome is the real outcome. 

And when she quietly yells behind her hand, everyone cheers while asking what she got. When she turns the package around, they cheer even more, because it’s a guitar pick set in her favorite colors. And one that you knew was so, very much her. 

She stands up immediately and opens her arms for a hug, and you blink before getting lovingly crushed. 

“Thank you,” she whispers in your ear. “This is more than great.” 

“Of course, babe,” you murmur back, feeling her jean jacket under your palms and a beating in your chest. “Thank you, too.” 

The rest of the exchange goes off without a hitch, with you cheering with everyone and understanding the cues more and more. Everyone’s gifts are wonderful, and Yuri’s the last to go out of the five of you. 

And she got your name. 

You figured giving the gift would be the hardest part. 

But somehow, this part is a lot harder. 

Braving it anyway—because there’s ironically no time like the present—you carefully unwrap the thin package and stare at what’s inside. 

It’s a photocard. But the picture is of the five of you, one that Taehyung took with his long ass arms while the four of you huddled behind him with drinks in hand. Around its edges are stickers, hearts and stars and cute little animals. 

And it’s the most precious thing you’ve ever seen. 

You don’t even realize you’re crying until Yuri rushes over to ask if you don’t like it. 

“This is the best thing ever,” you choke out, and she smiles before laughing and tearing up, too. “I love us.” 

“We’re the best, duh.” 

“Got that right,” Dom adds to the air while Reia and Taehyung start cleaning up the wrapping scraps. “You like your first gift exchange?”

“I should’ve joined y’all sooner.” 

“Joined us?” Taehyung looks up from the ground. “What do you mean?” 

“Oh. I figured you guys do this every year.” 

Tae looks at Yuri, who then looks at you again before very seriously admitting, “We’ve never done this, either. Not with each other.” 

“Really?” 

“Yeah.” She taps the back of your now most precious, most coveted photocard ever. “We didn’t even think about it since you wouldn’t be there.” 

Smiling at your prized possession, you vow, 

“I’ll be here now.” 

Regarding all of them, you start to decorate your place in your mind. Seeing where all the lights go. Where all the little trinkets hang, or whatever. You don’t quite know how this goes just yet, but you do know there’s trees involved. So that’s gonna be figured out in a year’s time. 

“I’m not missing this again.” 

With bellies full of laughter and a little bit of cider, you and your friends head over to Jimin’s cul-de-sac. 

Dom took the wheel this time, so you get to stare out the passenger side window, eyes reflecting golds and colors as you take in the surrounding lights. 

Were they always this pretty? You don’t remember being so taken by electricity and staggering electric bills, especially the houses that go all out and cover every nook of their yard in lights. 

But it’s a spectacle on every corner and street, and Jimin’s little half circle of houses keeps the holiday illumination alive. 

“Uhh, I think we can park down there,” you point, noticing there’s some space a little bit beyond the street. It’s alarmingly next to where Yoongi had to park once, and you cherish that memory with stars in your eyes. 

“Everyone have their gifts?” 

“Tae, if anyone lost theirs on the way here, we have other issues.” 

It’s a quick walk to Jimin’s, and the music around the house gets louder as you approach his entrance. There are people already set up in his open garage playing what you assume are card games, and everyone greets your group as you pop in to say hi. 

“Hey!” Namjoon calls. “Y’all are late! Everyone’s inside.” 

“We had our own party first,” you call out, struggling with your gift bags and food tray. “Can someone—”

Before you finish your ask, you smell nice cologne and feel a big presence at your side. 

When you look to see who’s assisting, you slow in your motions before uttering a small,

“Thank you.” 

Jungkook slightly smiles as he grabs your last bag. “Your perfume’s nice,” he compliments behind tousled bangs. Which makes you blink because that comment is more than hard to come by from him. 

So you can only grin. “Just got it,” you explain as you follow your friends inside the house. “It’s a dupe, can you believe it?” 

“Damn! It’s a good one.” 

“I know,” you agree, very proud of your find. Taking the gift bags from his hands, you tilt your head. “Can you bring the tray to the kitchen?” 

“On it.” 

When you make your way to your friends at the front area, they all eye you with concern. But you wave it off and shrug off your coat to hang on the loan coat hanger—earning teasing and whistles.   

“Shut up,” you groan, laughing with everyone before straightening the reason for the noises. It’s a dress you’ve been eyeing specifically for holiday parties. Because as soon as you started to shop for your gift exchanges, that quickly spiraled into shopping for outfits to wear to them. Did your coworker spook you into looking good because it was a public event? Maybe. Absolutely. 

So you shopped around before finding a dress that even you knew you looked good in. And the past couple weeks were the longest stretches ever because of your anticipation to wear it again. 

As you and your newest fit walk into the kitchen, you start to greet everyone, giving them hugs and smiling bright at their compliments. Because you feel good. You feel nice. Maybe you’re just drinking the holiday cheer and letting it consume you but you don’t care because it’s fun this time. This isn’t like any other year, and it’s wonderful. 

But then. 

Even the most wonderful moments have to come to a halt. 

And yours crash when you see Yoongi. 

Leaned back on one of the kitchen counters, his body appears relaxed in another damn black button-up, telltale silver chain hanging from a neck you wanna devour in front of the whole house. 

He was already annoying last year. But this time, his hair’s longer, and made up with just the right amount of disarray and a little bit even tucked behind his ear.

Fuck, this is so much worse! 

If he wasn’t so attractive and magnetizing, you’d have way less than ninety-nine problems. It would be a lot closer to zero. 

But you make your way over to him anyway, because of course you would. Of course he knew you would, too. 

“Hi,” you greet him, hands tingling with the desire to cup his beautiful chin and yank him in for a kiss. 

But he greets you back while giving you a hug, not without giving you a very obvious once-over. 

“Beautiful,” he whispers in your ear before pulling away, which can only make you babble out, 

“What?” 

He grins wide. “You look nice.” 

Oh. Oh, he really did say that. Why are you surprised? Why are you always surprised? But you have to stay poised so you stick with a neutral, 

“So do you.” 

“Thanks,” he says with a sly curve, still leaning back on the counter with a drink in hand. “Say something else.” 

“Goodbye forever,” is what you go with, back heating with his staccato laughs following your speedy retreat. 

No, no, no. He cannot notice how excited you are to give him his gift. Your bubbling excitement needs to be projected elsewhere. Because you know you picked perfect. It’s something you know he’d appreciate. 

But he cannot have his ego inflated anymore or else the house would float to the sky. 

But fucking hell, he looks damn good and he knows it. 

After an hour or so of socializing and keeping to your little friend circle, Jimin gets everyone together in the big living room to do the exchange. 

“Okay! One, two… Okay, we’re all here, so. Who’s gonna start?” 

When someone calls his name, the man grins and shakes his head. “Nah, I’m host.” 

“So shouldn’t you be the one to start?” 

“My house, my rules!” Jimin argues with zest, pointing to the guy that dared to challenge him, “So you go first.” 

And that man just so happens to secretly be yours. 

Shouts erupt around the living room, and you can mostly hear Hoseok and Seokjin since they’re closest,

“Go, Yoong!” 

“Ah, Yoongi’s first for a change.” 

Secretly and not so secretly, you’re hoping and wishing that he pulled your name. But the odds of that would be pretty slim if you pulled him, even though it was an even chance across the board. 

But as he gets up from the arm of Jimin’s couch holding a small gift bag, you determine that maybe it’s best if he didn’t pull your name. Because you already had trouble opening Yuri’s gift. How the hell would you control yourself opening his? 

“K, uhh. I got…” 

Wait, he’s looking towards you from across the room.

Shit. Is it happening?

You? 

“Taehyung.” 

A pang of disappointment and relief shoots through your veins, even when you shout with everyone while watching Tae smile from his place right next to you.

Yoongi walks right up to your seats, which are really some extra fold-out chairs by Jimin’s decorated tree. And he smells so good. Why do you have to be close to him again? 

But this moment is about Taehyung, so you watch as he opens the gift. When there’s a small box inside the bag, he opens that to reveal a nice, slim… wallet? 

Wait, is that leather? 

Your mouth drops as everyone’s up and raising questions already, and you can clearly hear Jungkook and your brother protest the highest,  

“Wait, huh?” 

“We set a limit for a reason!” 

Yoongi’s hands stay in his pockets when he refutes, “It was on sale.” 

“Nah, he’s lying!” 

Taehyung doesn’t know what to say, so when he looks at you, it takes all your strength to encourage him neutrally, 

“It’s so you! Deserved.” 

Yoongi looks at you before asking your friend, “Is it okay?” 

“It’s perfect,” Taehyung says, full of gratefulness. “I’m just shocked.” 

Jimin and Shiv chuckle from one of the couches, 

“Oh? He’s never shocked.” 

“This is new.” 

Yoongi smiles as Tae gets up to hug him, and you’re immediately okay not being the one receiving anything right now. 

Because you don’t need anything from him. 

All you want is his happiness. 

Once the initial gift is given, everyone goes down the line. And you’re feeling a little lighter after knowing who Yoongi got. Also, you feel less and less awkward about your gift, since the chaos of Yoongi’s was only the beginning.

Because when Taehyung gifts your brother a chain, everyone’s up and yelling again while your sibling is shocked to hell. 

On one end of the living room, Namjoon shakes his grinning head while Jungkook throws his back, 

“Alright, there needs to be a penalty for the most expensive gift.” 

“We obviously didn’t give a shit about the limit.” 

Everyone’s laughter fills the house, even drowning out the faint holiday music floating from the surround speakers. 

Immediately clipping on his necklace, your brother shouts, “Am I the only one that stuck to what we agreed on?” 

“Sucks for who got yours then.” 

Everyone starts laughing or reprimanding Yoongi for saying that—you with a cackle included. 

But then your brother busts out a fucking watch for Shiv and everyone goes bananas. 

At this point, Taehyung’s fully laughing behind his fingers on his forehead, and Jimin collapses on a gawking Yoongi when Shiv quite literally jumps up. 

“What the hell? Dude, I can’t take this.” 

“Yes, you can! And you will.” 

Fingers are pointing in every direction while people are calling each other liars, and your brother laughs on like a gremlin.

But it’s all so adorable that your heart is squeezing. Shiv’s damn near tearing up. “I’ve been eyeing this one for forever.” 

“I know! You wouldn’t stop running your damn mouth about that thing.” Your older sibling claps him on the shoulder. “You can shut up now,” he says with a grin, and Shiv gives him a big hug. 

“Thanks, man.” 

“Don’t sweat it.” 

Shiv’s turn. And everyone is waiting for what he decided to gift. 

Turns out he keeps the shenanigans going by gifting Jungkook a luxury tie set.

The blond’s jaw drops as he stares hard at the package. Looking up quick, he has to ask for sure, “A set, dude?” 

“It was on sale!” 

“Again?”

“Are we all gonna say the same lie?” 

Everyone can’t hide their amusement, with creased eyes and fake annoyance in every seat. Jungkook can’t believe his luck, since he’s been telling himself to get dress clothes forever but hasn’t gotten around to it.

“You gotta dress like a man now, kid,” Shiv tells him with a bright smile. “There’s a lot coming now that you’re making it.”

A light bulb softly glows when you realize that Yoongi might need to do the same. Trying not to look obvious, you peek in his direction. 

As he stares at the floor, you already know he’s mulling over the same thoughts. 

But it’s Jungkook’s turn now, and you still haven’t gotten a gift yet. 

So you’re waiting with all the air in your lungs. 

As the blond teases his pick, the studio boys are quick to handle him as Yoongi only huffs.

“I got… I got… I got, I got, I got, I got—”

“Kook, just say it.”

“Always like this.”

“Jimin!”

Your heart beats again as the host pops up from his couch, everyone cheering as Kook meets him in the center. Around you, speculation from your friends mixed with a little laughter spikes,

“He probably stuck to the limit.”

“Definitely.”

“Jimin’s gonna be the only one left with—”

Cackles and screams rip as Jimin kicks his head back in laughter, because in his hands is a sleek white box that everyone recognizes. 

This man got Jimin designer shades.

Your cheeks hurt as you react with everyone, giddy and bubbly with how absolutely ridiculous this whole night has gone. Everyone accusing each other of cheating, while all the while every single gift has been over the top.

You really don’t feel bad about revealing your gift anymore. Quite honestly, you almost feel more bad about it not being enough.

No. It’s enough.

Yours is the best and you stick to that.  

Jimin takes the sunglasses out of the box and protective pouch, slipping them on and modeling immediately.  

Oh’s and ah’s echo before his friends inflate his ego,

“Damn, you sure you aren’t a model?” 

“You’re one step away.” 

“He really is.” 

He looks great and he knows it. And he carefully puts them back in their packaging before giving Jungkook a hug. They exchange conversation, and you can feel the latter’s smile as he laughs before sitting down. 

Suddenly, you have the strongest intuition that you’re next. On Jimin’s turn. He’s getting out a very nice bag from behind a couch and your brain is firing off. 

“Okay! The best gift is going to…”

You were right. He calls your name.

Smiling, you shakily stand as Jimin approaches, a twinkling look in those features glowing in incandescent lights. 

Eyes on you. Many eyes. 

A little overwhelmed, you thank him before sitting down. Because it’s much easier to do this while on a solid, structured surface. 

“Hope you like it.”

“I’m sure I will.”

Best gift? What could Jimin possibly mean by—

Your scream shoots out as you clamp the bag shut because no fucking way you saw what you just saw in there. 

Jimin’s laughing his ass off but it’s not funny. 

“Jimin, what the fuck!” Now you know how Shiv felt and he is absolutely valid for his reaction. “I can’t accept this.” 

People are concerned around you, and you quickly think they may have the wrong idea.

“What did he get?” 

“What’s in there?”

Quelling some thoughts, you explain, “It’s a box.” 

“Okay?” 

You just gotta say it. They’re all gonna know as soon as you take it out anyway. So you breathe out,

“…It’s Dior.” 

It’s the loudest it’s been all night, even though your friends are completely speechless. All the guys are up in arms and Jia’s scream for penalty can be heard through the chaos,

“What!” 

“Where’s my Dior?” 

“What the fuck?” 

“Jimin…” 

“Okay, that is way over limit! That’s cheating!” 

“Penalty!” 

Jimin’s sneaky smile as he turns around doesn’t help, “You know I get everything for less.” 

“So?”

“Still, what the hell, man!”

You know Jimin works there. You do. But this is still making your limbs jelly and you can’t even speak. 

There’s no way Dior is passed around at every gift exchange. 

“You deserve it. For dealing with him.” He looks at your brother, but the look in his eyes is too sparkly to be completely truthful. Does he mean Yoongi? Or is he being serious? 

Of course, your sibling throws out a droning, “Wow.” 

After lots of shaky unboxing, you reveal a stunning bracelet, your friends bending down around you to gawk at how brilliant it is. Dancing in your fingers, this piece shimmers and gleams, and every single person is quiet. 

Guilt. You feel guilt. 

And you can’t even look at the reason why.

“Whatever you’re feeling, don’t. It’s okay.” 

You’re tearing up because it’s way too nice. Which proves worse because you also feel bad for crying for the sole fact that Yoongi’s watching. You don’t want him to get the wrong idea. 

You get up to hug him. “I… This is really nice, Jimin. Thank you.” 

“Stop by the store sometime,” he offers with a smile. “Maybe I can slip more in your purse.” 

“Easy,” your brother eyes him. 

“So are we all getting fancy gifts or what?” 

“Nope! Ran out of my discount, sorry.” 

“Wow.” 

When you finally glance around, everyone’s either a mix of shock and awe, visibly confused, or just jealous and wondering what the hell just happened. 

Meanwhile. 

Yoongi straight up looks like he’s holding his tongue. 

And you suddenly feel really bad. 

Hopefully giving him his gift will make up for what just happened. Even though you’re going after the hardest hitter of the damn night, this one’s special. 

But who are you kidding? People are definitely gonna talk in private about Jimin’s little gift. 

So now you have to try and mend this while acting like Yoongi’s just your brother’s friend. Cool. Awesome. 

“So...”

Just try your goddamned best. 

“Yoongi is mine.”

…Wait.

Your secret looks your way immediately while everyone snaps their heads to him.

What the fuck did you say?

Wait wait wait wait what did you fucking say?

Flapping your arms, you reach for words while everyone starts teasing, “Oh, god. I mean—I have Yoongi—I mean, wow. Hold on.”

Fucking fuck fuck, he’s grinning.

Thank the lord above for someone cheekily asking,

“First time at a gift exchange?”

You look away from the laughs while trying to compose your grin of embarrassment. Get it the fuck together, this is peak time to get it right.

“God. Okay.” You look down at your bag. All of its carefully folded and primped paper, the delicate folding inside. “For the gift exchange,” you clarify with a forced firm tone, “I got Yoongi.” 

You feel Dom try her damned best to hide her laugh. And you know for damn sure Jimin and Taehyung are thoroughly amused right now. 

All the oh’s sounding off in the living room are already enough to set your ears smoking. Your brother’s voice can be heard, but you know that’s for a specific reason. 

Everything had to be carefully calculated, after all. 

You walk up to him, and you cannot—absolutely cannot—look too long at the way he’s looking up at you. Him sitting in any capacity is enough to drive you up a wall, but now? When he looks so freshly fitted and prepping to tease you about all this later? You can barely think straight. 

“I don’t think I can beat Jimin’s gift,” you sigh to his curious eyes. “But it’s a little too late to change.”

His smile turns so soft. He shouldn’t be the one comforting you right now when you probably broke a little of his heart. “It’s all good.”

Keep going. 

Cleaning your clogged throat, you brave the crowd and breathe before starting again, “Anyway. This is kinda from both of us, but I picked it because I have better taste.”

“Hey, what the hell?” 

Ignoring your brother’s protest, you watch as Yoongi softly opens the gift before pulling out a basketball jersey. 

Of his favorite player. 

“Holy shit.” 

Shouts start erupting behind your back as you laugh, your sneaky gift joining the rest of them. 

“Hello? That’s way too much!” 

“That’s over the limit for sure.” 

You wave your hands frantically among their teasing arguments, and your brother chimes in on your side. “I didn’t know what to get!” 

“So you got a real jersey?” 

“Relax, y’all. It’s from both of us.” 

“Wait, which one’s Lillard again?” 

“Damian,” Yoongi softly says in awe. “How’d you know?” 

You can only blink, smiling faltering by the slightest amount.

Fuck, he’s gonna be cheeky right now? Knowing you know and exactly how you know? Cuddled up with him in his bed as he shows you highlight reels and tells you the guy’s whole story and that he happens to be a rapper, too? 

Looking back towards your brother, you explain, “Well... He gave me a list. And I just picked off vibes.” 

Yoongi’s eyes sparkle so much when he grins. “Good choice,” he compliments with creased eyes. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome!” You say back with a little too high of a pitch. “But tell him he still owes you a gift. This doesn’t count for him.” 

“Uhh, it sure as fuck does!” 

Yoongi breaks eye contact to shout behind you, “Didn’t you already tell me you got me something?” 

“Yeah, it was that!” 

“What a lie,” Yoongi says through a smile.

“Yeah, I did,” your brother surrenders. “The shoes are in my bag. Okay, next!” 

Hilariously, two pairs of people end up getting each other. Yuri’s older sister Jia got Seokjin, who also drew her name—to the slight angst of your brother, you imagine. 

And Hoseok ends up getting Namjoon. Which turns out being twice as funny because they both got each other the same pair of earphones. You can’t breathe with how hard you cackle with everyone, and your heart skips when you catch a glimpse of Yoongi’s eyes across the room.

By the end of the exchange, everyone’s bellies and cheeks sting from laughter, and every eye in sight has twinkles embedded inside.

Throughout the night, everyone starts branching off into different groups. You and your friends talk in the kitchen, and both in and out of the house, there’s groups of games and conversations. 

The holiday decorations everywhere shine bright. Enveloped in the music, you keep looking at the lights, feeling happy but a little bittersweet. 

You really wanna set the record straight with Yoongi. You had no damn clue that Jimin was gonna give something like that, much less in front of everyone. 

The fact that you haven’t been in the same room for a bit makes it worse. What could he be thinking right now? You can’t tell because he’s nowhere in sight. 

Screw it. You’re gonna at least text him. There’s no way you can survive the night if you’re gonna plague your own head without checking in with him. 

Fishing out your phone, you sidestep away for a second to type something quick. 

You [10:38pm]: i know it’s not dior.. but hope you like your gift :’)) 

Yoongi [10:38pm]: You know I do. It’s perfect, doll. 

Well. He texted back super quick.

Maybe he’s really okay? Maybe he and Jimin already talked it through? 

Then again.. Yoongi didn’t look happy at all during the big reveal. To the point where he was actively showing emotions you rarely get to see.

But if he says he likes his gift, that’s a good sign. 

You [10:42pm]: i can’t believe jimin did that

Yoongi [10:42pm]: That was bold. 

You [10:42pm]: seriously!!! 

Hmm. So he didn’t know. That’s even more surprising than him knowing, now that you think about it. 

You’re called over to get another round of food, and you turn down the initial invite but stay around as they get more to eat. 

When you see a tray that smells way too good, you do break and get a piece anyways. 

“Yeah, those are amazing,” Yuri chirps. “Shiv made those.”

“Really?” Dom grabs a couple pieces. “Lemme try these then.”

“You’re gonna want more.” 

As you find a place outside to eat, you stand next to the heater while conversing with Taehyung. It’s adorable how you can tell how excited he is about his gift, turning it in his hand before pocketing the leather again. 

“It’s so nice,” you compliment. 

“He knows how to pick, I guess,” Tae smiles, looking at you and making you shy. Because hello? There’s no way he’s gonna be bringing that up tonight. 

When you silently mouth for him to shut up, he grins like a madman. Glancing down at your hands, he suddenly asks, “Are you gonna put that down?”

“No,” you say with a tiny pang of guilt. “Afraid not.”

“Mm.” 

Your phone buzzes again, and you’re thankful for the interruption.

Yoongi [11:09pm]: Guess I have to do better😔

Instantly, you take that gratefulness back.

You [11:09pm]: NO!! you don’t have to worry about me at all

Yoongi [11:10pm]: I can’t lose to you

You [11:10pm]: trust me, i just… 

You think about sending the other text or not. But you do anyway. 

Taehyung sees the look in your faraway face, but doesn’t comment as you peer down again. 

You [11:11pm]: i just wanna see you happy

That’s all you want. If he’s happy, you’re happy. So it sucks to have part of the night come as quite the shock. 

Interestingly enough, though.. Someone else in the house should also be pretty upset about your gift, and you haven’t seen Jimin cornered by him yet. 

Unless your brother is just deciding to be courteous and beat his ass after everyone leaves. 

Yoongi [11:13pm]: Then come over here

You’re not gonna argue with that. 

So when your friends finish their plates, you suggest you all head into the garage. It’s already rowdy before you open the door, so the sounds get booming loud when you all enter. 

Looks like everyone is blowing their money on other things tonight, too. The gifts were the nice part of the party; now everyone is fiending to take everyone’s cash.

“Damn, Yoongi’s clearing me out.”

“Told you not to go all in.”

“He did.”

As the cold weather rolls in, you watch as the games go on, with heaters humming with energy and your brother’s friends radiating competition. 

No wonder Yoongi wanted you in here.

He’s on a damn roll.

As everyone groans after another win, Namjoon and your brother are in tatters, 

“Yoong, what the fuck!”

“You hiding cards in those sleeves?”

“I told you!” Yoongi boasts, “Don’t get too cocky.”

“Says him.”

“Cocky, my ass.” 

When you laugh, you earn a tiny glimpse of his eyes. But as his vision falls to your hands, you’re quick to look away, out into the night to look at all the lights instead.

Shit.

After some time passes, you find yourself alone on a balcony. Yet again. Cold wind blows through your coat, chilling you but making you feel alive. Too alive in this moment. Too aware.

The holidays aren’t so bad this time around. But you do need to set this one thing straight before things go a little sideways with Yoongi. 

If he’s upset, you don’t want him to be. Even if he doesn’t say it, you want him to know you’re considering his feelings. There’s some things you just can’t control.

So you wait for Jimin, telling him earlier to meet you up here for the best chance at privacy.

When you hear the door opening, you see him come through, hair lifting in the breeze and his lips in a slight curve. 

Get right to it. “Jimin, I—”

“Isn’t it so nice tonight?” 

Stopping, you settle into a smile, watching him walk up to stand next to you before you both look into the night. The neighborhood glows beneath your feet, and everyone in the backyard mingles while puffs of air leave their lips. 

“It really is,” you say with a smile, clutching the gift bag in cold fingers. Because you haven’t let go of it ever since it was given to you—it’s way too expensive. You’ve been guarding it all night. 

Which is why you need to hand it back to the one who gave it to you. “We haven’t done something like this before, so.. It’s a nice change of pace.” 

Jimin turns before realizing something. “Oh. I meant the weather.” 

Embarrassed, you let out a laugh while his eyes crease. “Ah. That, too.” 

“Got deep real fast.” 

“Jimin!” 

Both of you puff out laughter as you look down, just in time to see someone gazing right up at you. Someone that makes your heart squeeze on sight. 

Oh, shit. Is he gonna get the wrong idea again? 

You need to do this quick. Yoongi can’t be let down more than once tonight. 

Sighing, you start to hold up the bag again. “Thank you—”

“He’s lucky you came around when you did.” 

“Huh?” 

Jimin leans on the railing before eyeing you with a smile. “You don’t even know, do you.” 

“I don’t…” When you look below, Yoongi’s not looking anymore. And you panic. “Jimin, thank you. But I seriously can’t take this.” 

Why does he look so calm? Why does he keep acting like this isn’t a big deal? “You can.” 

“No, really. I—” 

“I may have gone too far this time.” 

Your eyes still as you breathe out a confused, “...What?” 

Jimin’s face is dusted with peach in the cold, and you get a good view of his jawline as he peers down below with a regretful curve. “I kinda tricked him,” he admits. “Into picking your gift for the exchange.” 

The shock you feel prevents you from even blinking. How the hell can this get even more overwhelming? “What do you mean?” 

“I wasn’t lying when I said I got some good discounts.” Jimin turns around to lean against the railing. “So I thought it would be fun to rope him into getting you something.” 

When he laughs to the chilly night sky, you don’t join him—the shock is preventing you from doing anything. 

“Didn’t think he’d pick a whole bracelet, though. Made for one hell of a gift exchange pick.” He looks at you at a tilt. “You like it, right?” 

Even if Yoongi was the one to pick out the jewelry, Jimin still had to purchase the damn thing. And even with his discount, it’s still expensive as hell. It has to be. You haven’t let go of the bag once because you don’t want to lose it. “But you still had to pay,” you blurt out. “I’ll find a way to pay you back if you aren’t gonna take it.”

“I didn’t pay for it, either.” 

Your heart stops. 

Full on halts. 

When he turns his head, he looks toward the sky in thought. “Well, I did secretly pay the exchange limit. But..” He straightens before staring back at your absolute silence, dropping the biggest surprise of the whole night,

“Yoongi paid the difference.”

The sudden sob that leaves your throat startles him immediately, and he rushes forward to put hands on your shoulders. “Hey, hey, you okay?”

“Yeah, I just—”

The sound of a door slides open, and you turn to see your favorite, favorite, favorite person walking through. You must look like a wreck but you don’t care, don’t care, don’t care. 

“I’ll leave you both to it then,” Jimin says to your watery eyes before squeezing, heading out to give you both the quiet space you need. 

But Yoongi clutches his arm as he walks by, and you hold your breath as he stares him in the eye, voice burning with a steady glow,

“Don’t pull that shit again.” 

“I know,” Jimin agrees without pause. “I owe you one.” 

“No one comes up here then.” Yoongi releases him slow. “Until I come back down.” 

The host of the night shares a quick hand clutch before assuring, “You got it.” 

Bag clutched tight in your hands, you watch in wonder as Yoongi approaches you with a quiet determination. His presence alone makes your heart beat warm and soft, but you cannot stop the tears from flowing down your cheeks. 

All you can ask as he gets close is a wondrous, “Why..?”

“He’s a very persuasive salesman.” When you wipe your eyes, he helps with a little look of tenderness. Though there’s still some frustration evident in his features. “But I didn’t know it would be for tonight.”

“Oh, shit,” you sigh. “Why did he do that?” 

“I’m not sure.” Yoongi holds your chin, rubbing your frosty cheek with a handworking thumb. “Taehyung didn’t know he’d do it, either.” 

“Tae knew, too?” 

“Yeah. He thought I had it, not Chim.” He sighs to the side, hair lifting slightly in the breeze. “I almost stood up when you screamed.” 

Your heart shrugs off some chill. “Really?” 

Yoongi nods before looking up with scrunched brows. “It took all of me to keep my ass down. Honestly, I’m still pissed the fuck off.” 

You believe that. One hundred percent, you believe that. Because you’ve never seen him talk to Jimin like that before tonight. 

Reaching to cradle one of his cheeks, you feel how cold he is before whispering to soothe, “Tell me how you wanted it to go.” 

When Yoongi looks at you, your lips curve into a small smile. Peppered with a bit of your tears and willingness to make him feel better. 

He softly grips your hand on his face before turning to kiss your fingers. Voice low, he reveals, “I was gonna take you straight to dinner. After you got off work one day.” Another set of kisses makes your fingers both hot and cold. “Then I would’ve faked needing something from the studio. And you would’ve gotten it there.” 

“Oh…” You blink as your vision blurs. “That’s…” 

“Among other things.” 

At his suggestive look, you playfully pat his jacket. But your heart starts leaking from your eyes.  

Because you just want it all to be out already. Just everything. Everything, everything, everything, you’re so tired of keeping it under wraps. 

“What’s wrong, doll.”

“Nothing,” you sob. “I’m just… I didn’t know, and… This is a lot.” 

You’re overflowing with emotions. From all the experiences you’ve had tonight to this very moment, everything has been wonderful and magical and there’s nothing quite like this feeling. But you’re also so embarrassed because he definitely brought out much bigger guns than you did. 

Sniffling into his jacket, you whisper, “Thank you… You got me something timeless. This is so much cooler than my gift.” 

“No! Yours is great, are you kidding me?” 

“It’s a jersey… That’s much less cool.” 

“Mm... You also called me yours.” When you freeze completely, Yoongi's shoulders bob with his pride. “Gotta say, that was the highlight of the night."

“Oh, shut up!" When you groan into his clothes, you feel him laughing through his chest. And it's one of your favorite feelings in the world.

Shoulders slumped, you heavily yearn,

“I want it all out now. Everything.” You squeeze him closer. Closer, closer, closer. “I want everyone to know it was from you.” 

Yoongi doesn’t say anything, though you do feel his heart beat a little faster. When he finally answers, you close your eyes. “I know I said this last time, but.. Next year. For sure.” 

“Can we decorate, too?” 

Yoongi looks into your starry eyes. “You wanna?” When your nod is quick, he laughs. “Guess I don’t have a real choice then, huh?” 

“Nu uh.” You squeal as he hauls you into a full kiss, squeezing you in his arms and more tears out of your eyes. “Wait!” 

When he tilts his head, you grin at his adorable quirk. “Let’s do it anyway.” 

“Huh?”

Holding up the bag, you cheekily suggest, “Everything you said. Let’s do it.” Biting your lip and feeling the chill on your ears, you finish, “There’s a new place I wanna try with you anyways.” 

Yoongi just stares, smile unsure but huffing amusement from his nose. “You sure?” 

“Duh! And I’ll act even more surprised, just for you.” 

Your giggling is purely born from excitement. Because you can’t wait to take him somewhere you know he’ll enjoy, too. And you get to see the studio? It’s gonna be a fantastic—

You’re brought into a tight hug before your thoughts finish. The bag between you crumples a tad, but you’re more focused on the way your head is moved for a soul-tying kiss. 

Warmth and gold and sparkles burst from your chest as you’re completely taken by Yoongi’s lips, and you start to feel your house inside change. It’s festive. It’s decorated. It’s made just for you and him. 

You've never been one for this season. But getting to spend it with Yoongi two years in a row? It's becoming one of your favorite times of the year.

“I just…” he murmurs to your features before gripping you close. “Thanks, babe.” 

“Thank you,” you whisper into his handsome features. “Once you give it to me for real, I’m gonna wear it everywhere.” 

“Please do. Get my money’s worth.” 

When you both laugh, your affection leaves in puffs of white. And you give him a more tender kiss than the first. 

You feel so at home it hurts. But it hurts because your heart is so full you can’t fit it all. All the love for everyone that fills that hole in your life that you and your brother have had for years. 

You’re gonna tell him one day. And it’s gonna rip you apart. 

But you hope everything will be okay. This time next year, all of you will be okay. More than okay. 

When you lean in close, you whisper something you’ve never really said to anyone. But you’re gonna try to start, even if you aren’t quite familiar with it yet. It’s a good year to start, start, start. 

“Happy holidays, Yoongi.”

His lips spread slow before giving one more kiss to your chilly nose. And every anxious feeling floats away in the frosty breeze.

“Happy holidays, doll.”

-

-

fin. :)

-

so... how did it go! | join the server! | join the taglist!

a/n: happy holidays, merry christmas, happy new year to everyone that celebrates! just wanted to get this one out for the ones needing a little bit of cheer around this time. we learn quite a bit about some of the crew's backstories and where they work now, huh. is this a pocket universe, too? who really knows! but it all flew out of my fingers as soon as we got the suggestion, so thank you again to that anon message! a/n 2: thank you to everyone that's stuck with me and 3tan this year. it's been a rough one, but i also wanted to post this one to let you all know i'm still here. 3tan will forever stay with me, and i have not ever forgotten it. not one day goes by where i don't think about it, or y'all, or them. trust me. also, stay on the lookout for some physical copy interest checks! we are getting closer and closer to 3tan copies being A Real Thing! ++ feedback box: ⇥ of course, any reblogs/comments/messages are appreciated! ⇥ for the ones that are too shy to reblog with a review, comment on this, or send a message, i went ahead and made another anonymous form where you can send in what you think! ⇥ no emails collected, no need to put in a username. it’s literally just a comment dropbox :D feedback can be as short/sweet or as long as you’d like! ⇥ here! ++ more links: ⇥ masterlist  ⇥ three tangerines masterlist

[pricetagged]

Idk how to label this. Wifehunter John?

The idea of possessive/obsessive John manipulating a situation and stealing a wife for himself struck me, so just coughing the idea up while I sneak away for a coffee before I actually have to start work in 20 mins 💖 entirely unedited, abrupt ending

Masterlist l Part Two

________

For someone married to his job, he has put quite a bit of thought into what he is looking for in a wife. Namely, that she's already married.

His reasoning is threefold. He can admit to himself, firstly, that it satisfies his need for control. Competency. He's a busy man with a demanding job. Not quite retired yet, no time to build his own from scratch. With this, he gets a wife boxed up and ready-trained. Broken in.

Secondly, the need for control bleeds into his saviour complex. She'll need a shoulder to cry on, someone strong and capable to get her back on her feet. She'll be feeling a little fragile. Needy. Perfect.

And thirdly, it does something wild to his jealous, possessive streak. The idea of taking something precious, of breaking her bond to another man and tying it to him? Delicious. The idea that she used to be someone else's, that he has to imprint himself onto her knowing that in doing so he is erasing the imprint of another man? It has his teeth aching, grinding even as heat rises in his belly. Stirs at him.

The idea swirls lazily in the back of his mind, never quite finding the right time or right partner. He bats at it a few times, lazy cat playing with the notion, seeing how far it can stretch before it snaps. Eyes up pretty things everywhere he goes, glancing down at their left hands just to check, but nothing quite tugs on that string. Until one day it does when he's outfitting the security system at your house.

It's side work. Cash in hand, word of mouth. Something to keep him busy when on mandated leave. Something to keep in mind as his retirement from active duty creeps closer. And your husband is a real piece of work, all blustering braggadocio energy. Young buck, not knowing his place in the herd. Not knowing that he'd be better scratching his antlers off on a tree than going head-to-head with a gristled thing like John.

It's like John's energy, his presence in the house, sends alarm bells ringing in your husband's mind (Be the man. Don't back down. Puff up your chest and strut). And it plays so perfectly into John's hands because your young buck doesn't realise that what he's really doing is fawning. To John. (Look at me, be impressed by me!) He makes his biggest mistake in putting you down in front of him, trying to sidle up to John and create some kind of desperate camaraderie. Ordering you to bring tea to the men at work. Rolling his eyes at your attempts to talk, to ask questions about the work being done. Waving you off so he can stand and watch the proceedings. Like he could supervise. Like he has any clue what he's doing.

Only the promise of the long game keeps John from levelling him with a hard look, from calling him outblike he'd love to.

He hears you both in the in the other room, having swatted the young buck off like a particularly virulent pest. Noisy and bothersome. Not needed - or wanted- in this home. And entirely too stupid to realise that John wasn't being jocular in his dismissal.

You've been scribbling away for the past few days, something occupying your time, keeping you happy and hidden away in the kitchen.

"You're not serious, are you?"

"Well, yes," he hears the slight quaver in your voice before you find your footing. You've got at least a bit of spine. Good. "You said that I should find an occupation. Not just 'laze around the house playing housewife'. This is what I-"

"Oh come on, I didn't mean- You don't think that this is viable, do you?"

"Well... I love gardening. And I'm good at it. And there's no reason that it can't be more accessible for people, especially with the current economic-"

He cuts you off with a scoff. "Dear, just- I don't want you to be disappointed. I think you don't quite understand the time and effort this will take. And you know nothing of marketing, publishing. Why don't you put that away and start on dinner?"

And oh, isn't that delicious. He can taste it now, that idea that has been swirling. It's thick, almost tangible on his tongue. The tension in the house, the bitter lacryma of stifled tears. The slight acidity of words you left unsaid. It has his mouth watering, pupils dilating.

And when he's packing up that evening, tools and materials tucked in to the heavy workman's case, he swings by the kitchen on his way out. Catches the way something is jutting out slightly from the bin, lid slightly askew. When he pulls it out he realises it's some kind of notebook, carefully (lovingly) bound. Pictures pasted, mindmaps and notes and plans scribbled in the margins. Your gardening tips. Kitchen scraps, window boxes, rooftop plots. Urban gardening. It's deeply thoughtful, well researched.

A labour of love, lying in the rubbish.

Sweet, clever little thing. That just won't do.

He leaves your house with a little piece of you tucked away in his toolkit and a nice plan forming. He'll be back, of course, not quite finished with his work. He'd planted a few little links into the system he'd almost installed, projecting not just to the monitor in your home but also in his. Got to keep his eyes on you, keep you safe and cared for in ways that your useless husband can't.

Finding that book was a boon. He'd say it was divinely ordained if he believed in all that. It weighs heavy in his toolbox as he whistles out the door.

Now, how to get you alone and return it to you..

________________

This idea may have been done before? I'm not sure, sorry! I've seen a lot of possessive John floating around. Tagging @stellewriites because I said I would last time, and you've been so encouraging of my nonsense.

Anyway I've got like 4 long-form WIPs that I'm working on, so I may never actually write this one but thought I'd share since that image set I just reblogged made me feral 💖

[saexy]

────── 𝐵𝐴𝐷 𝑇𝐻𝐼𝑁𝐺𝑆

𝐹𝑇. 𝑅𝐼𝑁 𝐼𝑇𝑂𝑆𝐻𝐼 // you are sae's sweetheart, but things take an interesting turn when his younger brother starts to fancy you. [ 6.7k ]

cw ! nsfw + mdni. yandere / cheating themes. afab / sister-in-law reader. reader is in an established relationship w/ sae. male masterbation. fingering. oral recieving (f). size kink / corruption kink (kinda). rin calls reader nee-san. (pseudocest) debut + self indulgent (no comments) ?@?#?@

dear reader ! i am excited to share this! rin + this trope had hogged my mind so well... disclaimer ! i have no experience in writing smut and english is not my first language. the food idea was from a convo with grayy (thankyou), biggest thanks to renaa the supportt grr ily <33 and TORII! ( @twitoshi ) baby so grateful to have thoughts from youu!! ilysm !! #BESTBETAEVER.AAH KISSINGYOU SO HARD RN T^T

The hot water ran down your back, draining away the soreness of the busy day. It was later than usual, and you did wait long for Rin before intruding his bathroom for a late night shower. It came to this, all because the showerhead in your room was broken. So, after an hour long you just invited yourself into his room. 

His room was so devoid of things, it felt colder than before with his presence gone for so long, unlike Sae’s. But it was only that way thanks to you taking out the time to decorate and buy pieces for the apartment. So, when Rin started staying over, you set one for him.

“When you get a girlfriend, she can decorate this place all she wants…” You had joked hinting he could move in, when you took him out shopping. “I do not plan to date anytime soon.” 

Ever since you met Rin at the family dinner, you adored him, instantly. You had always longed for a perfect family, and he seemed to fit so well. Since then you made it a point to visit him with treats and new movies to talk about, inviting him over for dinners whenever you got a chance, which were usually turned down. Yet you were so driven to keep him around, it didn’t matter. Being aware of how things went down between the two brothers, you were careful to not step on any toes, but still looking out for Rin always and making sure he felt welcomed to spend time with you and Sae. 

“I don't mean to pressure you Rinnie-” Rinnie, he frowned at the nickname making you correct yourself in an instant. He didn't consider you close enough to be giving him nicknames yet it felt oddly comforting the way his name rolled off your tongue, a sense of affection he didn't realise you dug in him. “Rin- I mean... I don't mean to overstep between you brothers, but I’m always here if you want to get things off your chest or just a friend. Consider me your nee-san Rinnie…” You smiled sweetly at him, tenderly cupping his cheek. The warm affection of your kind nature disgusted him, but you shrugged off lovingly. It went over a few times, until he got around to calling you that. Nee-san. And he was your Rinnie from the start.

Sae, for a matter of fact, wasn't dismissive of Rin's presence. He even offered to let him stay over if he wished to. The first time Rin accepted the invite, he barely slept at all. The walls weren’t thin, but you were so goddamn loud—every sound and moan reaching him despite the concrete. Hoping it would pass, he put on some music. But, even that failed to drown your whines. He considered leaving or at least knocking on both of your doors, but the soft, lewd moans seeping through the walls invaded his mind uncontrollably. It was obscene to picture you but he didn't fight it. The depths of his heart, twisting shamelessly into what was the tip of his infernal yearnings. Every stolen glance, every touch in the shadows, sowed into an unaware desire. Giving in to your angelic voice, laced with sultry undertone that rang in his ears, making every minute feel like torture. The line of right or wrong blurred so easily. It poisoned him. It was repulsive how despite his better judgement, you coaxed him to pull down his boxers. 

The next morning could’ve been better had you not walked out in one of Sae's tanks, barely covering anything, tying your hair up, your face puffed, as you approached the kitchen station. “Fuck” You shrieked, finding him in your kitchen. Did you not remember he stayed over?

“Sorry, Rinnie,” you said, sitting by the station, leaning over the island lazily. “Sae and I got around to drinking a little. He is off practice this week, we-we got a little carried away…” Your voice was sheepish, falling into a chuckle as the memories of last night replayed fresh. You blushed drifting off. 

“What you doing baby?” Baby, you never gave it a rest did you? Your chest displayed purple marks from the night before as you hunched over. Rin couldn't help but steal a few glances down at your body. Glowing despite your hungover and the messily tied up hair. It was perfect, accentuating your exposed neck. His eyes drawn to the sight of you, as you arched and stretched with half lidded sleepy eyes. He ogled at your pebbling nipples poking through the white tee, so perked and tightening by your sides as the tee somehow managed to concede it. Last night, he palmed himself to your whimpers, and the way you sat right now was inviting for something more. The idea of fancying you was alone be loathing, yet the more he hated, the more eagerly he stripped you naked in his head.

“Baby...” Sae’s morning voice followed from behind making Rin immediately look away. Whatever you did, had his nii-chan wrapped around your finger. Sae squished your face roughly up to meet his, pulling you into a hasty kiss. He held you so recklessly, with no manner or care, Rin watched his brother manhandle you from the corner of eye. The redhead’s lips linger on your mouth, as you sneak a taste in between, sticking your tongue out wide for him to play on. His fingers traced your neck as you gulped, you didn’t care how he touched you in front of another; if anything, you fed into his ego. You mumbled sweet nothings teasingly as you wished him a good morning, your eyes twinkling with mischief. It was as if you revelled in the attention, the subtle touches, and the way it made him feel. Rin’s gaze followed your tongue, licking the corners of your mouth, the crunch of your subtle bites aimed for Sae and Sae alone. The inconsiderate touches, sickened Rin, toying with him like a puppet. Even when Sae pulled away, finally acknowledging Rin, you pressed yourself against his stomach softly. His hands roamed confidently across your chin all through your neck, as though mocking his younger brother. You seemed to enjoy the raw affection of your lover. The rough demanding touches, building fantasies of how you liked it. 

“Slept well?” Sae snapped, shattering the thoughts that had been swirling in Rin’s mind as if they were loud enough to be heard by his older brother. A cold shiver ran down his back upon hearing Sae’s voice. It made him feel fifteen again—weak, naive, his confidence crushed in an instant. He hated the feeling rising in his chest, making it hard to swallow. Did nii-chan know? No, that would be silly. His eyes remained fixed on the floor.

“Be nice, Sae!” you whispered softly, wasn't this unbearable enough that you were rushing to his defence.

“I slept fine,” Rin lied, his voice barely more than a murmur.

“Okay, stay for brunch,” Sae hummed, his attempt at being nice, then shifted his attention, “and you…” Just two words from Sae had you standing instantly, leaving Rin feeling utterly invisible.

Rin clenched his fists, heart pounding as he slowly realised he was becoming a prisoner of his own thoughts of you. The way Sae held you, the way you kissed Sae with such fervour—it filled him with both longing and frustration. The more his brother possessed you, the more Rin ached to hold you in the same way, to make you his. He convinced himself he could treat you better than Sae ever would, love you more than you could imagine.

Rin started crashing over more often, always around whenever Sae was away. You had found a friend to keep you company, but for Rin, your presence plagued him. He couldn’t escape the sight of you, You began showing up at his practices after work whenever you could, and it only made things worse—or maybe better. He couldn't decide. The wardrobe choices set him into a spiral. The cute low-cut floral dresses, hugging your body a little too tight had him wiping his drool between the game. Every time he scored you cheered praising him from the benches. You paid attention to his play, unwavering. He hated the looks his teammates passed at you. You were his Nee-chan, only he possessed the right to look at you, though insane, it was perfectly rationalised to him. 

Despite his ignorant pretending—your doe-like eyes and the softness in your voice that only served to annoy him further. Sometimes, pushing it too far, babying him in front of everyone. He knew deep down you meant well, however this show of affection deeply fumed his annoyance— Yet, he indulged in it every minute around you. The way you were so small in his comparison, wrapping your arms around his large frame—he practically towered over you—tip-toeing in your high heels, to shuffle his hair for his performance. Always looking up to him, eyebrows raised, shimmery eyes, as you blinked dreamily, you were clawing your way under his skin, it was nauseating to picture how pretty you’d be under him. Beneath his sneer and frustration, there was an undeniable craving for the attention you lavished on him. 

He found himself groaning alone, devoid of you, setting a rhythm to his jerks. Mind left to run wild, a devil’s spawn. He desired the intimacy of your touches right now. Your hands, so much smaller and softer than his own, your wide beautiful innocent eyes fluttering with tears as you’d take him in your mouth. The image of your red lips latching onto his cock, would it fit? He’d make it fit. Losing his mind to have you on your knees, tits bouncing as he’d push his length down further. The mouth that kissed him with words, he would fuck it so well. Make you so cock drunk on him, until you're begging for more, intoxicated by his veins. Did you enjoy playing these sick mind games with him? Being so careless, bumping into him on purpose, making him catch you by the waist. Did you like to sweep your hands as an excuse to stand straight every time you stumbled. Did you pretend to fall asleep when you both watched movies, tugging tightly onto his shirt? But he held back. He held back when he would put you in your bed. When he could smell himself on you in the morning. He would love you better, fuck you harder than his nii-chan could ever, if you ever open yourself to him... Did you see him the way he saw you? Numbing his sense of awareness, until it all disappeared into nothing but you. You, your scent, your being consuming him every second. Rin’s head fell back to the cold water running down. “Nee-san” he moaned, cursing you. He would ruin you in unimaginable ways, nestle in your mouth, make you swallow him as whole, will you do that for him? Your mouth filled with him, gloss smeared in his cum. He practically drooled again, head thrown back, the faster his hand rutted the clearer his visions got. The hate that disappeared in between slipped back once the translucent fluid messed about his hand. Fucking disgusting nee-san.

“You took so long Rinnie…” You pouted worrisomely, “Did something happen?” The thought alone had him softening for you. Again. It was the same face you made whenever Sae’s flights got delayed. It irked him. It took all of him to not sneer and tell you it was your fault. Why did you show up in these skimpy clothes? “It was nothing nee-san” Instead he brushed off, with a frown. No matter how hard Rin lied at the end of the day, it was you who he found himself running back to. Just one last time he told himself before he gave into it every single night. 

“Rinnie, taste this” you put your hand holding his favourite sauce, “I've been trying to get this right... Tell me if you like it” You were overbearing to him. The more around you were, the more frustrating it got for him at times. Always intruding with a yearning gaze, a full curve smile, having you around was bad for him he knew. But not being around you was far worse for him. Miserable, it felt miserable to have his pants strained at mere gestures of you, to not be the one to kiss you all the places you touched yourself thinking of his brother. You did everything with him, but fucked his brother. Were you so unaware of what effect you had on him?   

His brows furrowed, tasting the sweetness off your finger, it wasn't intentional but his tongue swept off a little further. You didn't flinch at all. “You like it?” There it was again. “Hmm...” He only grumbled, but his eyes widened for what you did next. Rin hung to your every moment as you licked your finger back, savouring the sweet sour taste of the sauce. “It is good!” Wasn’t it enough he woke up in the middle of the night to your moans and whimpers, deranging him of reality, that you put new images in his head. 

“Do you think Sae will like it?” 

There it was—the fracture in his perfect illusion. Sae. Always Sae. Each time Rin felt a thread of closeness with you, his brother’s name would slip from your lips, ripping Rin’s carefully woven fantasy apart. Rin blamed Sae. How could you—so pure, so innocent—see anything in a man like him? Sae wasn’t there to hold you when you twisted in your bed, buried in pillows restless and aching for him. All while he laid awake in the dead of night, waiting for your breathing to slow, your voice to whisper softly in your sleep. Rin, learnt your patterns. He saw the way you tossed and turned, your body subconsciously reaching out for something that wasn’t there. And it enraged him—Sae wasn’t even here, so coudln’t you shake him off your mind.

Rin turned over in bed, teeth gritted as he clutched your panties—so conveniently forgotten—held tight in his fist. Your scent overwhelmed his senses, lacing his thoughts with heat that crawled under his skin. He breathed deep into the fabric, inhaling every little bit of you, eyes closed, imagining your touch on his skin, your soft moans filling his ears. His hand moved faster, body drowned in need, but then it came—his name, spilling from your lips even in your sleep. A cruel reminder of the barrier that always stood between him and you.

The night your phone rang, you were still blissfully unaware, passed out from drinking too much, lost in your oblivious dreams. Rin glanced at your phone—Sae <3. His brother’s name flashed on the screen. A tightness in his throat knotting him, knowing Sae didn’t deserve the glimpse into your life that Rin guarded so fiercely.

Sae’s raised eyebrow surprised to see his brother. "Where is she?"

Rin swallowed thickly, his voice struggling to stay steady. “She’s asleep—”

But before he could finish, you stirred, murmuring that cursed name even in your haze of sleep. "Sae?"

A flash of something dark surged in Rin. You were in his bed, surrounded by his warmth, while your mind still lingered on his brother.

The decision snapped in his mind—he couldn’t keep living like this. He had to have you, fully, irrevocably. But fear clenched his gut. You loved Sae, that was undeniable, but he knew you felt something for him, too. You couldn’t fake the moments when your gaze lingered too long,  when you called him your sweet "Rinnie" with a tenderness that drove him insane.

In some world, it could have been enough, but right now it wasn’t. He wanted more. He wanted everything.

So, Rin pulled back. He needed you to want him, need him, in the same consuming way he needed you. It was a sick game, and he was prepared to play it. If you couldn’t give him what he wanted, then he’d make you see it. No more nights spent in your bed, no more tender moments when you fell asleep in his arms. It was excruciating.You missed him, but he articulated his excuse so well you believed him without doubt. Drowning in self loathe, he hated lying to you.

But tonight, he promised to come back. You had wanted to cook for him, but work ended so late, and now you were hoping Rin would bring something to eat. 

His phone rang thrice, your name screened, before he muted it. He had made promises to you, sure, but those felt distant, half-forgotten. He wanted to keep his little chase up, but she made him feel more than a man he had ever felt with you. She did not weigh down his insecurities, always being second best; She was more composed than you could ever be. She was prettier, better than you, and kissed him, so why did his mind wander off to your cherry lips, digging in his subconsciousness he tried to deny. You were the one he slept next to. Deaf to her voice, pulsating to your memories. Every step away from you only brought him closer.

The date ended not too late. When he checked his phone again, the screen read 11:23. Five missed calls. Four unread texts.

06:33 PM: Rinnie, have some last minute work, might be an hour or two late. Sorry to cancel dinner tonite :(((

07:54 PM: Can you get takeout if you’re still coming over? I will be home by 10.

10:24 PM: If you’re not coming it’s fine… I’m just worried about you…

10:25 PM: I hope you're safe, baby.

He would’ve ignored you the way it was going, make you work for it like he had planned it out, but upon dialling back when you did not pick up, He felt the surge of urgency to see you for himself. He should be driving back with his girlfriend, but he wasn’t. The little facade breaking down, he was never going to win. So depraved of you since these past days, he couldn't hold back. You made him so weak. Had he left you alone for too long? He could taste the guilt, bitter in his throat. Fuck. Knowing that the one time you asked for him—needed him—he had failed you. Why didn’t you just give him a reason to hate you?

“Nee-san...” His voice broke through the thick silence as he dialled for delivery, pacing, the sound of running water echoing from the bathroom. You hadn’t expected him to come at all, not after the cold silence between you. He heard the water stop, then your voice, soft and distant. “Rinnie, I’m in here,” you called from his room.

His breath hitched. You were in his room. His pulse raced as he stepped closer, mouth dry when he saw you emerge, a towel wrapped loosely around your body. 

“The shower head was broken, sorry for intruding… I’ll get it fixed.” you explained, a little embarrassed at the scene. You sounded distant. Did he make you feel that way now? Did his presence not comfort you anymore? Why did you have to apologise like that? Were you upset that he was gone? Did he just fuck up everything by not thinking this through? 

His eyes travelled down your wet body, God he missed your reckless ways in which you moved, the light in your eyes that had once pulled him in like gravity. He missed you, but this time around you had missed him equally, or more. “I thought you weren't showing up? You barely come over anymore” You shuffled around picking your things walking around him as he stood like a statue, a strange feeling he couldn't stomach. 

“Uh- I was with a friend-” 

“Oh.” Oh? You didn’t ask for details, didn’t tease him the way you always did. Just that one word—so cold, so unlike you. The silence suffocated him as he watched you walk out of the room, he followed. He felt uneasy with this feeling festering in his chest. Afterall he meant for all this to happen, but the hostility was maddening. 

“Umm-” 

You put your clothes in the laundry and he stuttered to find his words, laying out your night pyjamas, “Did you forget something?” You spoke so plainly it hurt his cavity. “Umm.. dinner.. I ordered dinner, creamy cheese pasta and pesto sauce.. you like that nee-san” desperate for a sign that you still cared. 

You sighed, barely a whisper, “I-” the way his eyes changed, the hindrance of guilt covering his face. “... I can't say no to that but first I need to change…” You stretched the curtain on his face. He turned around. Curiosity getting the better of him, he heard the soft rustle of fabric, the faint thud of your towel hitting the floor. His mind raced, his body tense, picturing you there, so close yet so far.. “Did you not get my texts Rinnie..?”

Moment of truth? He never wanted you to learn about her, He knew what he should say. He knew how easy it would be to lie, to smooth over this mess. Still, his tongue caught between confession and deceit.

“Don’t lie to me baby”

“I- I was on a date..” He blurted. 

You froze, the air between you thickening. You pushed the curtain aside, your expression a mix of disbelief and something darker—something that sent a chill down his spine. “A date?” Rin with a girlfriend didn't quite sit easy with you. It was rather strange and out of character from what you've come to know about him. 

He shifted uncomfortably under your gaze, rubbing the back of his neck, eyes darting away. “Yeah. It... it was nothing.”

“Nothing?” you echoed, disbelief tinged with something sharp. You stared at him, waiting for more, waiting for something that made sense. Because this wasn’t like Rin. 

Rin felt trapped under the weight of your eyes. “I didn’t— It just... happened.” His voice cracked at the end, frustration lacing every word. “I thought... I thought maybe I could forget for a while.” He was inaudible but you heard him.

“Forget what?” you asked, voice quieter now. 

Forget you.

“Nothing.”

—

You busied yourself in the kitchen, the dinner had to be nothing less than perfect. Rin had always been more reserved, keeping to himself, but tonight felt different. He finally planned a dinner at your place with his girlfriend, and though you couldn't quite pinpoint why, there was something about it that made you feel uneasy. And god forbid if you could read his mind. You didn’t understand why he had been so hesitant—he always dodged the topic when you asked, giving vague answers, as if he wasn’t ready to fully admit she existed. From the little he told you, she seemed lovely, but each time he mentioned her, a knot twisted in your stomach. It didn’t make sense, not until tonight, when you finally met her.

The devil lied in the details, it was subtle swatches across his shoulder, the they she caressed his face, licking the corner of her mouth. How she pushed her hair back, her eyes motioning slowly for Rin, the sparkle of joy. The realisation crept in slowly, the way she styled herself, the way she moved... It was like looking in a mirror, a distorted version of yourself. It wasn't blatantly obvious, but you read her like a book. Both of your reactions to Rin were almost mirroring. Almost as if a hastily built clone with no care. It couldn't be, it was a pure coincidence. Rin’s hand rested possessively on her waist as they stood together, his fingers clutching tightly around her. It looked strange—wrong, even. Your baby was flying from the nest, and this was just jitters, you just wanted the best for him. And who but you knew what was best for him. 

You glanced at the clock, feeling the heaviness in your chest grow as you placed the crockery out. You stared at nothing in particular, lost in your thoughts, the clinking of dishes becoming mechanical. “Nee san?” Rin called out breaking through your wall. He stood tall behind you, his body casting a shadow as he towered you catching the sipping plate. His brows furrowed, concerned. You blinked, realising you had been staring directly at him, yet completely lost in your own mind. Past weeks, even though he put an effort to be around, you had been pulling away no matter how hard he tried, a failed attempt each time. You stopped coming for his practices all together. No shopping, maybe he was overthinking, what if it was just a misunderstanding and you were mad at his brother? It edged him every passing day. The distance was unbearable, like a punishment he couldn’t understand, He was the same boy? Did getting a girlfriend bothered you so much, but you were so sincere around him. Then, why won’t you just hold him like before? It was cruel even for you to treat him this way. And tonight bothered you beyond resolute. 

“Are you... okay?” Rin’s voice was tight, his eyes traced the way you fidgeted with the red strings tied around your dress, your gaze shifting to anything but him.

“I’m fine” You say faintly, losing focus again as you stumble, reaching out to the stone slab. Rin instinctively caught you by the sides. His large hands swiftly slipped down. It wasn't something he had ever planned to do, but the moment called for it. He had held back for so long, always looking in from shadows, but right now you were pressed against his torso, your dress slid up from the friction. Drunk from your tired, heavy gaze, he felt losing control of it. Your perfume filled him to the brim. 

“What’s going on with you?” He snapped clenching his jaw, his frustration getting the better of him. You shuddered at the raised voice, making him instantly regret it, squirmed a little in his brace, but his grip untouched. 

“You’ve changed…”

The words fell short in his mouth, you assumed he'd break away to let you slip, but his fists tightened, riding your dress higher.

“Rin... What are you-” You breathed heavily. The sound of his name on your lips was his undoing. The last straw, when you were so fragile at his bay. His dick throbbed as your bodies pressed on tighter, leaving no space in between. Longing fingers, motioned hesitantly, searching their way around your thighs. 

“Changed? Huh?” He growled, pressing on further, “Why? Because I don’t let you cling to me anymore? Because I’m tired of being second best to him?” His words came out in a rush, his breath hot and vexed as he tried to make sense of the storm raging inside. How easy for you to tell him he changed. He didn’t know whether to hate you or fall apart in your hands or to remind you he was the same man. Regardless of how much he fought it, he couldn't pull away. You were too close, too tempting, and every second you spent in his grasp only fed his conflicting emotions.

You smiled faintly, brushing your fingers lightly across his chest. "Is that what you think? That you're second best?" Your voice was dipped in honey. “Is that why she is sitting outside?... Is that why you stopped coming home, to me?” glassed eyes pierced his teal one. Rin hated how easily you got under his skin, how simply you twisted his emotions until he couldn’t think straight. But even as he tried to maintain his stand, he felt himself crumbling at you breaking down.

His fingers brushed against the dampness of your arousal, and you didn’t pull away. Instead, you moaned softly, shutting your eyes helplessly leaning into him. The sound sent electricity straight through him. Your hands reached up, clutching at his turtleneck, pulling him down to meet your gaze. “You hurt me like that Rinnie” Your doe eyes still held their innocence, but the predator in you was clear as day, making him kneel. Wicked. He was going to make up for all the shit he had put you through, correction, the mess you deluded him he put you through. Rin lifted the scarlet hem, to find the black laced panties sticking wet. His date was the last thing on his mind. Even if the world were ending, it wouldn’t have mattered. He needed you first—needed you more than anything else. Without hesitation, he pushed your panties to the side and latched his tongue onto your wetness, desperate to taste you.

You were perfect, gorgeous the way your pussy split open to his tongue, it was a sight he never in a million wild dreams could have imagined. You felt the cool aire being replaced by his spit. Tongue roughly sweeping across your slit. His sharp moves drew out lewd noises, “Slo-ah-ahw dah-own” you squirmed as your legs started closing in from the rough pace. Rin didn't want to savour any taste, all he needed was to relinquish his thirst for you for months now, empowering all his other senses. The heat radiating from your core, your peachy lips parted in pleasure—it turned him into a monster, one you had created. “Fuck, just cum on my tongue” Rin sloppily spoke, breaking in between kissing your sweetness. The wet smacking sound filled the space, as he blew into your cunt making you cm messily. The milky fluid he lapped, pushing his tongue inside, as your body twitched on him. It wasn’t enough, you rushed this one. Start over.

He pushed one of your legs over his shoulder, letting your weight rest on him. Every flick of his tongue, a desperate attempt to hear you moan his name once. And when you bit your lips, eating up your pleasure, it only made him more feral, more determined to claim you. His pace quickened, your fingers tangling in his teal locks, stroking in and out in reach of something sturdy.

You squirmed over his face. Your sweet core was so welcoming, he could stay like this for hours—devouring you, making you cum over and over until you were nothing but a trembling, blissed-out mess. He groaned against your sensitive skin, sucking on your swollen lips, gripping them between his teeth with just enough pressure to make you cry out. Every sound you made drove him further into madness, desperate to keep you on the edge, completely lost to the sensation of his mouth on you. 

“Did you miss me so m-much-uh.. I thought yuh- didn-t mpph- like your nee-san a-anymore” You moaned, pushing yourself into his face shamelessly.Your head threw back surrendering to the overwhelming pleasure he brought on. It was a blissful sight. He resented himself as staying away from you, but instead of words he just wanted to show you. 

Rin was merciless, curling his slender fingers inside you, with no rhythm or restraint, just pure starvation to break you on his hand. He didn’t care for setting a pace, his thrusts were wild and desperate, matching the chaos in his mind.The dining room way away thankfully, but part of him liked the thrill that his date could walk in at any moment, finding him knuckles deep in you. Hell, he needed his nii chan to walk the sight of you pleading him to go faster. 

He abruptly stood up, slamming you against the fridge. It was hot even for him to be so aggressive around you. Rin, blushed seeing how much you liked it. The way your body reacted, sliding into orgasm, your knees growing weak, he had been edging you for so long. “Look at me nee-san” Bitterness coated the words that dripped out of his mouth, while you struggled to keep your eyes open, as they fluttered shut with each curl of his fingers, coursing through your pleasure. Saturated on his tongue and now fingers, you whimpered, clawing his sweater.

Even when vulnerable, you were in control, you somehow still held him on a leash. Him, nothing more than a guard dog abiding by your play. He would, he would do it in a heartbeat for you. Your tightness sucked him whole but it wasn't enough, you needed more. “More Rinnie” You didn't care for the guest. You didn’t care about anything but this, so loud, peppering with ghost kisses all over his lips. His thumb ran circles on your neglected clit, pushing another finger inside.Your breath hitched, nearing your close, rutting your skin on his hand, chasing that peak.

Rin lost to the sight of your body jolting and twitching as you came on his fingers. Trembling from your orgasm you rode your high, and he held you. You deeply breathed and he pulled his fingers out intended to make you taste yourself but you got him first, smiling innocently, getting him to suck his own fingers lapped in your cum.

Then, with a soft, teasing smile, you pulled your panties down, stepping out of them before pausing. Your eyes flicked down to his painfully hard length pressing against his pants, and you grazed your fingers over it, making him hiss.Your walk wobbly, throwing him a bone letting him feel you up.

"I'll take care of this later…" you whispered. "She’s waiting." You say, slipping your panties in his pocket.

The reminder of his date hit like a slap, though it only made the burn of his desire for you stronger. You always had him wrapped around your finger, and now he was left to endure the torture of dinner with her—while all he could think about was how soon he could return to you. 

The entire Dinner was a pure torture for him. On one side his girlfriend held his hand and across the table your foot snaking up his thigh. He choked on his food when you pressed against his bulge. “Rinnie are you okay?” both of you moved in for him. You pretended to have no clue. He gritted his teeth. If he wasn't just knuckles deep in you, he would've bought the act. It got worse from there, when you asked how long until the two of them were dating. “A week” A week. You couldn’t help but chuckle softly under your breath. 

“I am glad it is working out, I was always so worried for Rinnie” You cooed, your tone laced with condescension and sarcasm, only he understood. 

Rin couldn’t focus on anything else, couldn’t even enjoy the food, not when you kept getting up to pass the dishes around, reminding him with each movement that you weren't wearing any panties beneath your dress. Your dress seemed to hike, painting his memory.

By the time the dinner finally ended, Rin felt like he had been dragged through hell, his mind and body on edge. His girlfriend was completely unaware, talking cheerfully as he hastily booked a cab, desperate to get her home so he’d have you to himself.

The door didn't fully close behind Rin, and he had you pushed back to the wall. This new side to him, unravelled, pressing you harshly onto you. He spit words in your face, “I fucking hate you to my gut…Nee san” He spat bitter words, brain shutting down driven by nothing but pure hunger to swallow you. You had played him like a rag doll and it was getting clear to him. Yet, somehow even his cynicism laced you with warmth inside. 

Your eyes stayed floored from underlying discomfort from his actions and not the words, “Is that what you told yourself when you went…” you paused for a second and then your eyes mirrored his, “...and found the next girl who’d give you the same feelings as me?” You read him, you read his ways so effortlessly. “I thought you’d do better Rinnie… Do you think she’ll love you the same, just because she acts like me?” your eyes, endearing, a perfect escape for the devil to reside in. He found himself unable to escape from his reflection he saw in you. “She won't take care of you… like I do.”

You sheepishly slipped into his side, his heart raced when you were so close to him. He knew exactly where it led. “Rinnie'' You said in a low voice comforting his little insecurities. “I know you better than they all can ever…” Pulling away, leaving a trail of kisses along his cheek all the way till his body was reacting on its own, throwing his head back, making you climb on him, letting it linger for a moment til he regained himself of what he truly was. Vile. “...ever try to be. I won’t let them take you from me…” You cupped his cheek, without a hesitation he was drawn into your brace. Head resting on the soft fabric hearing his heart thump. He found himself unable to escape from the gentle arms that hung loosely. Words lost his way from his mouth,, but this was far more comforting than anything in his life has ever felt. “She won't take care of you… ” Your words dizzied him, lulling him to a sweet song, until all of him was reduced to you. His hands slipped past your waist under your guidance, you ignited his crave to touch you bare, to kiss you on the mouth you taste you just once.. “You understand what I'm saying, Rinnie?” he nodded like a lost puppy completely taken by you. 

“They don't love you like I do” You say, fidgeting with the wool. “You’ll stay with me Rinnie? Won’t you?” It was crazy how much effect you had on him, as you slowly unzipped the long strained pants, leading him by the couch as you straddled in his lap. Your sensitive skin settling itself in his hardness. Arching your back, as you felt him poking harder, growing into a rock under you. Rin couldn't fight you, not when you sat on him like a dream, dress dishevelled, soiling his pants from the stickiness of your thighs as you dripped. Your breasts spilled from the loose dress. He didn't spend another second, pulling it down as he latched hungrily on your skin. Rin was never the type to savour a taste, just the utter fascination of swallowing you as a whole ran through his mind. You didn't hold back, and he, hell bent on draining you of your moans and oxygen. You bite your lip when he squeezed your supple breasts. Putting your nipples between his teeth, playing in his mouth. The pain had you teared and overwhelmed you but the pleasure of his obsession overpowered. You were softer than a feather, and so god damn fragile, how could he ever dream of anybody else. His tongue swirled around, teasing you painfully. Rin, didn't realise his strength as he pulled your hair, bending you to his pleasure, nothing but flesh for him to eat. He sucked harder, each time you whined, and his canines dig in deeper. He was beyond gone. Painting you in a shell of bruises, as you ran fingers in his hair. Nothing was more rewarding to see him at his worst, turned into an animal for you, for you alone. The adrenaline rushed into your brain, as you bled a little from his harsh bites, his teal eyes, cold in lust and hatred. You came a little undone just from bare sight. “Cumming just like that, Neesan?” He mocked but it only made you wince, as you licked the corner of your mouth. You pushed his hair back, watching his tongue hanging low, licking his ear, “You need me… don't you?” The tone, the words, your confidence unshakingraged him, his eyes darkened hating to admit the truth. “Then have me…” It snapped, this wasn't about Sae, it was just this urge to be seen and loved by you. Like you were right now. It was twisted, but you were so convincing, feeding yourself to him.Before you even finished, Rin pushed you over the couch, you giggled at his restlessness taking off his sweater, cracking his neck. YOur fingers traced his rock abdomen, pleased as your small frame glistened in his spit. Before you knew he was unbuckling his pants, eager and driven. You were going to keep him with you forever.

© saexy — do not plagiarize, repost, use or translate my works on any platform.

[hoe4hotchner]

Not worth the tears | [A.H]

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x gn!Reader | WC: 1.6k  | CW: Angst, no use of Y/N, mention of cheating, reader was dating a man, crying.| Summary: reader got cheated on - Hotch is there to pick up the pieces

The weight of your phone felt heavier than it should have in your hand as you stared at the screen. The text was still there, glaring at you, a brief, emotionless exchange that had just ended your relationship. You couldn't feel much, not at first. There was shock, a numbness that spread through your body like ice. Your partner had cheated— of all things he had cheated. And it wasn’t even a messy confession or an argument where the truth slipped out. It had been revealed so casually like it didn’t matter.

Your thumbs had moved faster than your brain, sending a few bitter replies before cutting off contact completely. Now, you sat alone at your desk, a dull ache blooming in your chest, your breath shallow. He had taken all the air out of your lungs and drained every bit of hope you had put into him. The thought circled through your mind—I tried. I tried for him. I gave everything, but it wasn’t enough.

Your fingers hovered over the keyboard, trembling slightly. The words blurred on the screen, and you blinked back the tears clouding your vision. That was it. It was over. You stared at the empty chat thread—his response was short, dismissive, almost as if what had happened didn’t matter. As if you didn’t matter.

You rubbed your hands over your face, trying to swallow the knot in your throat. You were supposed to be working—on a case, of all things—but the walls of the BAU felt tighter than ever. The world outside of this room, outside of the text that had wrecked your day, seemed far away.

As you leaned back in your chair, your thoughts spun—how long had it been going on? Did the moments you’d spent together mean anything at all? The memories felt tainted now, like ink smeared across a once beautiful piece of art. You'd done everything right. You tried to make it work. But it was over. And it was time to face that truth, even though it burned.

It felt like a punch to the gut, that revelation. He had betrayed you in the worst way possible, and all you got in return was a half-hearted apology and an empty text saying it wasn’t a big deal. You should’ve seen it coming, right? But you’d held on, hoping that things could change, that he could change, despite the cracks that had started to show months ago.

The pain was suffocating. You stood up from your desk, pacing the room, trying to shake off the weight pressing down on your chest. But it wasn’t going away. It was just getting worse. You'd loved him, believed in him, and he tossed you aside like you were nothing. He'd broken you in ways you never thought possible, and now you had to pick up the pieces.

Again.

Your thoughts spiraled as you stared out of the window, lost in a haze of disbelief and hurt. You wanted to scream, to throw something, anything, to just feel something other than this emptiness inside. The room felt too small, too confining, and your heart ached like it was splitting in two. Maybe it was. Maybe that’s what happens when you give someone everything, and they rip it all apart.

The glass door into the BAU creaked open, and Hotch’s presence filled the room before you could even look up. He stepped inside, his brow furrowed, as usual, a file in hand. His eyes scanned over you, a practiced intensity in them, as though he was ready to talk about whatever work issue had brought him here. But then, he stopped.

“Are you okay?” Hotch asked, his voice soft but carrying that steady authority. It wasn’t a question he asked often, and when he did, it was because he already knew the answer. He had this way of reading people—of reading you—like any of the case files that came across his desk.

You tried to swallow the lump in your throat, brushing a hand through your hair as you shook your head. You forced a weak smile, but your throat tightened, betraying the façade. “It’s nothing, Hotch. Just… work stress.” You waved a hand dismissively. But the lie tasted bitter on your tongue. The raw emotion in your voice gave you away, and you knew Hotch could see it. He always could.

He stood there, watching you closely, then set the file down on your desk without a word. It was the first time you'd seen him hesitate. “Something’s wrong. Talk to me.”

You wanted to hide it, to shove the pain down and pretend like you hadn’t just lost someone who wasn’t even worth the heartbreak. But this was Hotch—someone you trusted more than anyone. Your lips parted, and the words came tumbling out before you could stop them.

You felt your walls crumbling, the mask you’d tried to wear falling away as the weight of everything hit you all at once. Your chest tightened, and you tried to hold it in, but the pain surged forward, unstoppable.

“I broke up with him,” you said, your voice trembling. “He… he cheated on me.”

Hotch’s entire body went still. His expression, once concerned, darkened with something else entirely. His jaw clenched, his fingers curling into fists at his sides. It was as though he was holding back from storming out and finding the man who had hurt you. “He what?”

You nodded, the tears you’d been holding back finally spilling over. “I tried, Hotch. I really tried. I wanted it to work, but… it’s over. He didn’t even care.”

The room was heavy with the weight of your admission. You had never seen Hotch angry like this—at least, not for something personal. His dark eyes were clouded, and the controlled, calm leader of the BAU was nowhere to be found. But then, just as quickly as it had come, the anger softened, replaced by something much gentler, much deeper. He stepped closer, his hand reaching out to brush the tears from your cheeks, his touch soft, careful, as if you might break at any moment.

“Did he tell you? Or did you find out another way?”

The look in his eyes was enough to make you swallow thickly. It was protective, fierce, as though he was barely keeping himself together. You hadn’t known it then, but Hotch loved you. And the idea of someone hurting you, betraying you, was enough to make him want to hunt down the bastard who had done it.

“He told me,” you muttered, looking down at your lap. “Like it was nothing. Like I didn’t matter.”

Hotch inhaled sharply through his nose, his hands flexing. For a moment, you could tell he was fighting the urge to walk out and do something rash, something you knew he would regret.

“I'm sorry,” he said quietly, and there was something deeper in his voice, something that made your heart skip a beat. “You didn’t deserve that,” he said quietly, his voice laced with something you couldn’t quite place. “He didn’t deserve you.”

You sniffed, wiping at your face as you tried to pull yourself together. “I just… I don’t know what I did wrong.”

Hotch shook his head. “You didn’t do anything wrong,” his voice was firm. He moved to sit beside you, his presence somehow grounding in all the chaos that had filled your head. “This is on him. Not you.”

The conviction in his voice made your breath hitch. You stared at him, taking in the intensity of his gaze, the way he looked at you as if you were the most important thing in the world. Your heart twisted painfully. You had never seen him like this before.

“He wasn’t worth your time,” Hotch continued, his tone softening even more. “You deserve someone who will fight for you, someone who will never hurt you like that.”

You could feel yourself breaking down again, the tears coming back, and you didn’t fight them this time. You didn’t have the strength to. Instead, you let yourself fall, collapsing into Hotch’s arms as he caught you without hesitation. He pulled you close, holding you tightly against his chest, his hand stroking your back in soothing circles.

For the first time all day, you felt safe. The ache in your heart hadn’t gone away, but being here, with Hotch, made it bearable. He didn’t say anything more, just held you, and somehow, that was enough.

For a few moments, neither of you said anything. You couldn’t bring yourself to speak, and he seemed to understand that you needed the silence.

“I wanted it to work,” you whispered between sobs. “I really wanted it to work.”

“I know,” he said softly, his hand soothing as he rubbed slow circles on your back. “You deserve so much more than what he gave you.”

As he held you, a thought crossed your mind—Hotch had always been there. He had always cared, always looked out for you. And as he held you now, his heartbeat steady beneath your cheek, you wondered if maybe he had cared more than you’d realized.

You lifted your head slightly, meeting his gaze. There was something in his eyes, something soft and warm, but it wasn’t pity. It was deeper than that. It was understanding. It was… love.

You blinked, trying to process the moment, but the sadness and exhaustion weighed you down too much to explore it further. Instead, you leaned into him, resting your head on his shoulder. Hotch didn’t hesitate.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, though you weren’t sure why.

Hotch shook his head, his expression tender. “You have nothing to be sorry for.”

He leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead, and for a moment, the world didn’t feel so broken. In his arms, you could breathe again, and maybe—just maybe—your heart wasn’t beyond repair after all.

Because even though everything had fallen apart, Hotch was there to help you pick up the pieces. And this time, you weren’t alone.

[jellybonbons]

Playground Love

ೀ older!Leon Kennedy x fem!reader

Tags: hurt/comfort, age gap (unspecified but reader is an adult), a lot of self doubt, talks about mommy and daddy issues, pet names (angel, princess, sweetheart).

W/C: 1.0k

A/N: studying? who is that? Anyways, this was supposed to be a cute ‘sitting on his lap would fix me’ but I got hit by existential crisis at 2am so angst.

"Wow, dating an older guy? That's so sophisticated!"

“Are you sure about this? Don’t you think there’s a reason why no one his age is dating him?”

"You get to date someone older? That's not fair! All I get are immature guys my age."

"Darling, I know you're an adult now, but dating someone significantly older... it just worries me. Are you sure you're on the same page?"

I love him.

At every reaction, you find yourself repeating the same phrase in your mind. It was a simple truth that anchored you amidst the swirl of opinions and doubts. Every concern, every envy—you faced them all with the same unwavering declaration.

But do you really love him?

The question lingered like a shadow, casting doubt on the certainty you had clung to so desperately. You couldn't shake the nagging feeling that perhaps you were merely caught up in the allure of dating someone older, mistaking infatuation for love. Or was it that you longed for attention from an older guy who could fill the void your absent father left?

You craved the paternal presence you had been denied, and in him, you found echoes of the guidance and affection you had longed for. 

"Dating someone older? Isn't that a bit... strange?"

"Why? Age is just a number, right?"

"Yeah, but... do you really think you're at the same stage in life?"

Oh, how naively optimistic you were. 

Perhaps you have been too quick to dismiss your loved one’s concerns, too eager to embrace the illusion of love in the arms of someone—his arms—who offered the fleeting promise of stability and security. 

“But he makes me feel loved and safe,”

“Does he?”

Was your love truly built to withstand the test of time, or was it merely a fleeting illusion, destined to crumble beneath the weight of your differences?

“Darling, can we talk for a moment?”

“Sure, Ma. What’s on your mind?”

"Well, I couldn't help but notice... you seem quite taken with this new guy you're seeing."

"Oh, you mean Leon? Yeah, we've been spending some time together."

"He's... older, isn't he?"

"Um, yeah, he is."

"I see... darling, I just want to make sure you're being careful. Dating someone older can bring its own set of challenges."

"I know, Ma. But he's different. He understands me in a way no one else does."

"I'm sure he does, dear…but promise me you'll take things slow and really get to know him before things get too serious."

"I promise, Mama.”

You've broken many promises with your mama, but why did this one hurt? Is it because you partially blame her for shaping you the way you are? Is it because she married your father? Maybe she would have lived a happier life if it weren't for him, if only.

But you thanked her, both her and him, for the lesson learned, for the wisdom imparted, for the love that had always been there, and for helping you recognise the kind of partner to avoid. 

You stood before the polished wooden door of Leon’s home office, your hand hovering in uncertainty over the ornate doorknob. Each second felt like an eternity as you battled with the torrent of doubts and fears that raged within you. 

You needed him, wanted him to hold you, and tell you that everything would be fine.

But what if he couldn’t understand your doubts? What if your confession shattered the fragile illusion of your love?

With a steady breath, you pushed aside your apprehensions and grasped the doorknob, steeling yourself for the conversation that lay ahead.

“What’s up, sweetheart?” His voice, gruff yet soft and reassuring, always managed to send shivers down your spine, freezing you in place. You couldn’t find the words to speak, and your throat suddenly dried.

Sensing your hesitation, he beckoned you closer with a gentle smile. You could see the experiences he went through, the complexities of adulthood etched into the lines that creased his weathered face.

“Come here, angel. Sit on my lap while I work.”

You obeyed, crossing the threshold into his office, your feet padding on the wooden floor as you made your way to him. Settling onto his lap, your linen dress pooled around you, the fabric soft against your skin. His arms encircled your waist, pulling you close, his rough touch sent warmth flooding through your veins.

You inhaled his scent, a mixture of citrus and wood, with a hint of something familiar: whisky. You thought he quit. Ready to question him, you opened your mouth, but he stopped you before you could question him.

“Don’t worry your pretty head, princess. I only drank a glass, I promised. I’m just a bit stressed.” 

“Mm, okay,” you replied, pushing aside your concerns for the moment as you melted into the warmth of his embrace.

You found solace in the familiar embrace of Leon's arms, the weight of your doubts momentarily forgotten as you leaned into his chest, burying your face against him. A few of his buttons were undone, allowing the soft hairs on his chest to brush against your face. 

"Is everything alright, angel?" Leon's voice, soft and concerned, pulled you back to the present moment.

"Yeah, everything's fine. I just want to stay like this, with you," you murmured, the words slipping out before you could second-guess yourself.

His arms tightened around you, drawing you closer, as if he could sense the hesitation in your voice. "Me too, princess. Me too," his stubble pricked your forehead as he murmured against them.

Oh, how weak you were. His voice and touch alone melted you into a puddle, and all your problems seemed to vanish in his embrace. Your mama wouldn’t be happy with how you turned out; she wished that you would never let a man make you weak like she was.

Closing your eyes, you allowed yourself to sink deeper into his embrace, letting go of the weight of your doubts and worries. In this moment, all that mattered was the steady rhythm of his heartbeat against yours.

Perhaps one day, when the time was right, you would find the courage to open up to him about your inner struggles. Until then, you cherished this moment, clawing in the warmth of his love.

Pressing a tender kiss to your forehead, Leon whispered softly, "I love you, angel.”

“I love you, too, Leon, always,” you replied. The words were a vow of unwavering devotion and love…was it really?

All women become like their mothers. That is their tragedy. No man does, and that is his.       

- Oscar Wilde

[legend-the-dumb-jock]

Daddied: based on true events

“Come on bro! Why are you being so weird?” Lee mocked standing in next to the bathtub with a bottle of alcohol. “I mean you got the perfect body and what not I think but I’m really just not into guys”. Lee laughed at Nathan. Lee knew that Nathan has a crush on him. People even claimed that they had a bromance going on with how much time spent together but after all the months of Lee casually flirting, Nathan finally made a move. Only for Lee to laugh in his place.

Nathan walked out of the bathroom while Lee could be heard laughing at him. Nathan was heart broken. The first man that he actually felt a connection to. The one he grew to love. Just laughing at him. Rubbing the tears from his eyes Nathan laid in his apartment. In bed bundled up trying to find the courage to face the world again. He couldn’t continue on with this “bromance” any longer after being lead on for so long. He could feel his chest hurting. His heart breaking while he sobbed. He played back memories he had with Lee. Fun nights of playing games. Even the night when Lee told him that he better get his ass to class and get his degree. Lee was actually the reason he graduated college because he wanted to make Lee proud. He was the only one that pushed him to do. He even reminisced on the nights they would drink together. The deep conversations they had. The more Nathan thought. The more he got angry. He wanted Lee to pay for wasting his time. For breaking his heart. He didn’t want to feel this pain again. There was one memory that Nathan was playing back in his mind. And suddenly he shot up in bed. A dark smile creeped across his face.

—————————————————————-

Lee woke up the next morning with a hangover. “Ohh god how much did I drink?” He moaned to himself. His phone was buzzing. It was the chick he was flirting with at the very last night. “We need to talk was all the txt said”. Why would be need to talk? She was just a random chick he was flirting with. Dismissing the txt he swaggered to the bathroom. In the mirror flexing his muscles. And giving himself that perfect smile that got him out of so much trouble. His phone began to ring. He answered it not thinking about it only to hear the screeching of some chick. After a bit he said “oh yeah I remember you …. Wait… what are you saying!? WHAT!!” He dropped the phone. Apparently one of his hookups from a month ago was pregnant. He sat down on the edge of tub. Head in his hands trying to figure out what he was going to do. His stomach grumbled telling him it was time for breakfast but he wasn’t in any mood to eat. He walked back to his bedroom. Putting on some clean clothes. Not even noticed as he passed the mirror that his muscles had lost some definition.

He made it to the bistro next door, ordered some breakfast and took a seat trying to take in the news that he was going to be a Father. His phone rang again. This time the girl from last night. Reluctantly he picked up the phone. “THAT’S IMPOSSIBLE” he screamed and slammed his phone down. She was claiming to be pregnant with his child too! And they didn’t even sleep together ! Lee picked his sandwich up to take a bite of his food when his hands caught him off guard. Dropping to the food he stared at them. Seeing dark hairs creeping out the back of them and traveling up his arms. Hurrying home he ran to the bathroom and took his shirt off only to see the dark hairs poking out of skin. His chest and abs has a dark sheen on then and turning sideways he could see his back had the same peach fuzz hairs that were growing. “WHAT IS GOING ON!”

Grabbing the razor he began to shave off all the hair that seemed to being growing like wild fire across his body. And only the. Did he see it. His muscles seemed to be deflating. It was starting to look like he skipped a few gym sessions. “What happening !!” He screamed.

His phone rang and he dreaded seeing who it was. Nathan. “I’ve decided to distance myself from you. Yesterday really hurt and I need this for me”. Lee sat on the bed. Head in hands sobbing. The one person he needed right now more than ever and he pushed him away. Lee didn’t know what was happening. He still felt hungry but all he wanted to do was sleep. It’s all he wanted to do with all the uncertain changes happening.

———————————

Waking up Lee felt more groggy than ever. He didn’t want to get out bed. Staring at the ceiling he didn’t know what to do. He can’t be a father of 1 kid let alone 2! His stomach churned and he knew he needed to eat something. Sitting up in bed he screamed. “WHT THE FUCK IS THIS!” Running to the bathroom he was horror struck. Hair was everywhere.

A thick beard coated his face. His muscle definition was gone. And his stomach was poking out as if he drank beer all the time ! Look down he see. Thicker legs that lead down to some meaty sweaty feet. That had the beginnings of dark hair coating them. He began to swap from all the changes. He was fucked. He didn’t know what was happening. And …and…was he SHORTER!! Judging his height from the bathroom sink he had to be at least 4 inches shorter!!

————————————————

A week last Nathan went to Lee’s apartment. The door was unlocked. Walking into the space the living area was completely disheveled. As if someone was tearing the place apart. On the couch was a large circled wrapped in a sheet. Water dripping from the opening where a face would be as the hunched over figure appeared to be crying. “Hello?” Lee’s could be heard. “GO AWAY!” Deep and raspy. Nathan sat down beside him. Asking what’s wrong? Lee responded that he was a freak. The exposed flesh that Nathan could see was a pair of large hairy feet that he could smell. Leading up to some tree trunk legs coated in the thickest hair he had ever seen on a man. He heard Lee’s stomach growling. “Do you need me to make you something to eat ?”

Whipping the sheet back Lee screamed “does it look like I need something to eat!?”

Nathan jumped back. Shocked at how large Lee had gotten. “I can’t even leave this apartment anymore without people calling Jaimie. Jaimie!!! I’m not my damn father ! I’m not!!” Lee’s phone wrong. “Oh no not again!!” As if on command his body immediately responded. His stomach swelling larger. His hair growing thicker and his body becoming smellier. The dark smile crept across Nathan’s face. Lee caught a glimpse of it. “You did this! You and your spells! What did you do!?” Nathan stood up and laughed at him. “Well. You always said you would never follow in the foot steps of your father. After the other day, I decided to make you do exactly that”. Le was becoming his worst nightmare. His own father and a father to many as well.

[babbymochiiii]

🔞MINE: JOHNNY SUH

synopsis: 'you're mine, even if i'm not supposed to make you mine'; where you and your bodyguard have a heated argument while you're at the club with your friends. warnings: afab reader, bodyguard!johnny, "business relationship", reader is a public figure of some sorts, pwp, johnny being a meany, fingering/oral (f), p in v, hair pulling, cumming inside, nipple play, breast play, dacryphilia, multiple orgasms for reader, name calling (brat), sweet names for her (baby, angel), etc. author's note: @jsuh for the gif! @rookthornesartistry for the divider! this fic has come to life bc of a daydream i had due to me reading a bodygaurdxclient story 😖 and let's just say it's lowkey self indulgent just cause of the fact that it was a daydream *sweats* it was hot...so i had to share with yall. also, i'm still working on the lee line fic as we speak just the production of it is rlly slow for me at the point cause i'm hitting a big bump in the road for it. so please hang tight! word count: 4.6k

anon ask related to this post!

NOW PLAYING: 1. if i didn't know better by MACK LOREN 2. PROMISES by EMO

"Hey babes, just want to let you know that your bodyguard is staring mad hard over here." Your friend yelled over the booming music the club was playing as the two of you stood at the bar.   

Looking over your shoulder— just as she said— you can find your bodyguard with his bulging arms crossed over his chest as he sulks in the corner he is in while sending you a hard look from across the club.   

You rolled your eyes at him, before turning around at your friend as you waved a hand between the two of you, dismissing the topic of him entirely. "Forget about him. He's just mad I ended up doing what I wanted without listening to his security measures." You said to her as you rolled your eyes again.  

Your friend gave you an unnerving look before turning her expression back to her drink. "You know—" She stops herself quickly as she felt her face heat up at the words. "—it looks like he wants to eat you alive." She said as she took a quick swing of her fruity drink.   

You arched an eyebrow at her words before a laugh leaves your lips. Causing her face and the tips of her ears to turn red in embarrassment.   

"Are you serious?" You asked her as you chuckled at the silly accusation she made. 

"I mean, his eyes won't leave you no matter what. And on top of it he looked like he wanted to kill the guy that tried to buy you a drink earlier." She said as she played with the rim of her glass.   

You felt your heart thump harder in your chest at her words. But they were just that. Words. Nothing that she says can be true about your bodyguard. Johnny Suh. The bodyguard that was assigned to you due to your agency fussing over your safety because of some unknown person creating threats towards you.   

From the moment you first met, you have been awe struck at his appearance. The way he towered over you, the expressionless look on his face as he looked down at you, the way the black compressed shirt he wore hugged his fit figure, the black jeans he wore how they hugged his large thighs during your first meeting had you clenching your thighs together tightly as you felt yourself become attracted to him.   

No matter how much you tried to drown yourself in some company, or your own, he was always on your mind. Everything about him and the things you wanted to do with him. But you knew there was a border you couldn't cross with him. That was the rule...but who cared about the rules, right? They were meant to be broken.  

Thump, thump, thump.  

Your heart couldn't stop the heavy beating in your chest at the thought of him. You realized you haven't answered your friend and sought out your response as quickly as you could. "There's nothing there, for any of us." You tried not to sound as breathless as you feel as you responded to her. "Besides, it can be the number of fruity cocktails you've been having since we got to the club." You remarked with a smirk.  

"Hey!" She laughed as she gave you a playful shove. "They are good as hell, okay." She said as she downed the rest of her drink in one go. "Anyways, let's go dance!" She giggled as she took hold of your hand and dragged you to the middle of the dance floor.  

Deciding to go with the flow for the night, you followed your friend's lead and started to dance with her. As the two of you danced, having a good time and just laughing at one another over a silly dance move, a sultry song came on.   

You and your friend danced close to one another as you both felt the beat of the music course through your body, completely taking control over the two of you.   

Suddenly, you felt someone come up from behind you and wrap their arm around your waist and bringing you closer to them. The person tried to make you grind against them, but you weren't having it.   

You turned around and pushed at the man's chest. He held onto your waist tightly, refusing to release you from his hold.   

"Let me go fucker!" You yelled as you continued to push at him but all he did was smirk at you as you continued to try and push him away.   

"I believe she told you to let her go." A cold voice speaks out beside you.   

Chills rake through your body, as you look towards Johnny's towering form, as he looked towards the man holding you with narrowed slits for eyes. A warning before a reaction.   

"And what is it to you?" The man laughs as he tightened his grip on your waist, causing you to whimper out in pain.   

Nothing was said on Johnny's end at the man's remark, as he took hold of the man's bicep and held it in a vice grip. This caused the man to let go of you as he tried to pry Johnny's hand with his free hand.  

"Let her go before I fuck you up." Johnny says in a cool, neutral tone, as if this was any other night.   

"Man fuck—" the rest of the man's words were lost as Johnny sent a straight punch to the man's nose. The man wails in pain as he clutches to his now broken nose, where blood started to drip down in a cascade.   

"We're leaving." Johnny said as he took hold of your arm and started to drag you off the dance floor, and away from your friend.   

You looked back at your friend, to which she sends you a wide eye look as she didn't know what to do in the situation.   

"Let me go Johnny! I want to enjoy the night with my friend!" You yelled out as you tried to pry his hold off your arm.   

"It's not safe here and I'd rather not watch you dance with other people and drink yourself away." He said in a harsh tone as he pulled you down the secluded hallway the club has that leads you to the entrance/exist.   

"Fuck off, Johnny! I want to be here. You're always ruining everything! Why can't you let me be!?" You yelled as you felt your anger get the best of you.  

Johnny stops in his steps, before he slowly turns towards you with his own expression of evident anger. "I'm doing my job here. Stop being a fucking brat and listen." He seethed out as he started to walk closer to you, causing you to back up against the wall. He corners you with his towering form.   

"You never fucking listen to what I say to you. And look—" he said as he placed both of his hands on each side of your head. "—it gets you in trouble every. Fucking. Time. And who comes after you?" He questioned you.  

"You—"   

"Exactly. I'm the one saving your bratty ass."   

You were stunned into silence as you looked at the way he breathed heavily after his remark. You felt your chest move up and down to the same rhythm as his. You would be an idiot, if you tried to deny the way you felt a sudden rush of moisture collect in your underwear.   

The look he was giving you made you release a small gasp as you saw what your friend was telling you.   

Pure hunger.   

He looked like he wanted to eat you alive as you looked up at him. You felt your body quiver in chills that causes you to arch your back, causing your hardened nipples to graze lightly against his chest through your thin dress.   

Something seems to snap within him because before you know it, he's gripping the base of your neck and pulling you roughly against his lips.  

Nothing about the kiss was gentle at all. It was all tongue, teeth, and fighting for dominance. This kiss was pure pent-up tension between the two of you, that has been set in place since your first meeting.  

You wrapped your hands around his neck. Your hands tangled themselves in his long black locks as he pulled you closer to him. The sensation of his teeth sinking into your bottom lip causes you to moan loudly at the pleasuring pain that coursed through you.   

He pulled away from the kiss and placed his hand on your lower back. “Come with me.” He said in a low tone as he started to guide you to the club’s bathroom for a more private, and secluded moment.   

Once he held the bathroom door open, he gently pushed you in before he followed suit locking the door in the process.   

You looked up towards Johnny in a breathless state. The whole ordeal was dizzying. You can’t wrap your mind around the events playing in front of you right now. Johnny started to stalk towards you causing you once again to walk backwards until your middle back hit the bathroom’s counter. You looked behind you for a split second, to which Johnny takes the moment you are distracted to lift you up on the counter.   

His placement of his hands on your thighs causes goosebumps to rise and place themselves along the rest of your legs as you felt him gently pull them apart as he placed his body between them.   

“Do you know what you do to me?” Johnny asked as he looked at you with such intense heat that you swear his eyes were intense pools of brown. 

“I —no.” you answered weakly as you looked up at him with doe-like eyes that makes him curse inwardly as he continued his intense stare down.  

Without breaking eye contact, he takes hold of one of your trembling hands and places it on his very evident, aching cock that fights to be released from their tight hold.  

A gasp leaves your lips as you look down at where your hand is. With a trembling breath that escapes your lungs, you look up towards Johnny and see the same hungered look in his eyes.  

“This is what you do to me. From the first moment we met. You have changed everything I stand and believe in.” He purred in a low voice as he squeezed the hand that is on his clothed cock.  

You moaned quietly as you felt the way his cock jumped in your hand. With the way your chest was rising and falling at such a rapid pace, you could swear you weren’t breathing as you basked in the feeling that surrounded the two of you.  

You took your other hand and started to trace it up the arm that held onto your thigh. In the wake of your path, you saw goosebumps following your hand. You continued the path up his bicep and to his shoulder. Once at the top, you followed your hand as it slowly traced down his chest, where his racing heart was trying to escape his chest.   

Johnny started to trace small circles with his thumb in your inner thigh. It was as if a fire had suddenly gone ablaze within your very nervous system as it started to consume your whole being.  

“If we do this —” Johnny cuts himself off as he heard how breathless he sounded. Clearing his throat he continued. “If we do this, there is no going back. You are mine. No other man can touch you. Your body is mine.” He said as he placed his other hand on your thigh while pressing his hands into your skin. “—your pussy is mine. Do you understand?” He says as he leans down and traces your jaw with his nose. 

“Johnny...please.” You whimpered out as you felt yourself getting desperate for his touch.  

“Tell me.” He said as he tangled his hand into your hair.  

When you didn’t answer him back quickly — it was more like you were speechless in what to say to him, you were in awe — he pulled at the roots of your hair tightly, pulling your head back so you were forced to make eye contact with him. “Tell me, angel.”  

“I’m yours...fuck, Johnny I’m yours.” You cried out as you placed your arms around his neck and pulled him closer to you where your lips grazed one another's.  

Without missing a beat, Johnny claims your mouth with the same feverish want. It didn’t feel like you were breathing at all as you let him claim your mouth. You felt the strands of his long hair tickle against your forehead as he presses himself further into you. Johnny’s hands release their hold on your thigh and move them to the bunched-up fabric of your dress. He pushes it up further, showcasing your black lacey thong. Along with the obscene amount of slick coming out from your entrance.  

Johnny’s fingers grazed along your clad folds causing for a moan to leave your mouth and for you to entrap your legs around his slim waist. You felt the sensitivity of your core race up through your body making it become such a high sensing feeling. Seeing the way, you reacted causes for a grunt to leave Johnny’s throat as he starts to cascade down your throat with bites and kisses.  

Distracted by the sensation on your neck, you’ve failed to notice Johnny pushing aside your underwear. The sensation of his callous fingers gliding in-between your folds, makes you pull away from the kiss with a gasp as you look down at him collecting your slick, lubricating his fingers before inserting two fingers into your waiting entrance.  

The stretch of his fingers was both pleasures inducing but brought some pain. Tears brimmed your water line as you tried to accommodate the feel of his fingers.  

“Cryin’ already? What are you gonna do when you take my cock?” Johnny teases as he starts to thrust his fingers in and out of your weeping cunt. “You’re gonna take it like a good girl. Right, angel?” He says as he started to thrust his fingers in faster.  

“Y-yes! Oh—” You moaned out as you felt his fingers start to jerk up inside of you, hitting the spot you deliciously.  

Still fingering you with the fast pace he has going, Johnny uses his free hand to scoot you closer to the counter’s edge where he then went down on his knees and used his mouth to suck on your clit.  

The sensation of his mouth wrapped around your clitoral hood, has you raising your hips off the counter and trying to get closer to his mouth as it made rockets go off in your nerves with a semi-scream moan.  

Not taking his mouth off of where he wanted it most at, he pushes your hips down back onto the counter, and holds them with his free hand. “Never tasted anything so fuckin’ sweet like this.” Johnny moans out as he bit his bottom lip while looking down at your spit-glossed clit and the way his fingers started to have slick cascade down them.  

You were so close to losing it — you were that close to actually losing it completely — he goes down on you again, this time moving his head side to side as his tongue sticks out, collecting all of your sweet juices. The feelings in your legs start to feel like mush as the tightening feeling at the base of your spine continues to build up.  

As if he couldn’t get enough of you, Johnny pulls you closer off the edge to where your hips almost completely hang off of the counter, as a deep husky groan leaves his lips as he felt you gush even more on his tongue. You took one of your hands and glided it against the strands of his dark hair, slightly massaging his scalp before giving it a tug.  

An approved groan leaves his throat as he pushes himself closer to you. His tongue gliding up and down your folds before probing at your entrance where his fingers continue to pump in and out of you. With his tongue joining his fingers, he felt your pussy pulse against his digits causing him to give you a smug smirk. “Such a cute heartbeat baby. Are you gonna cum on my fingers for me?” Johnny said as he looked up at you as he continued his delicious movements.

You gave him a delirious nod of your head as tears started to fall from your eyes at the sensation of being so close to your release.  

“Then come.”  

With just those two words, you felt the tether within you snap with your hips lifting up and your grip on Johnny’s hair tightening while a cry leaves your lips as you come.  

Johnny keeps thrusting his fingers slowly to help you through your orgasm, and with his tongue he laps up your release, leaving you all clean...for now.  

As you gasped for the much-needed air in your lungs, through your half-lidded eyes you see Johnny get up and unzip the zipper of his jeans. With a slight haste in his moves, he unbuttons his jeans and releases his weeping cock out of the tight hold they were in.  

His cock was such a pretty sight to look at. His tip such a flushed pink and leaking pre-cum, and the vein that pulses so meanly along his long, girthy length you felt yourself gush all over again as you tucked your bottom lip between your teeth.  

“Get off of the counter for me angel.” Johnny says in a gentle tone, but the command laid in the undertone.  

Doing as he says, you get off the counter and look up at him, awaiting what he wants you to do next. Both you and Johnny look at one another as each watched the way your chests rise and fall in heavy breaths. You watched the way your arousal and release glistened on his lips and chin. Seeing the way you looked at him made him subconsciously lick his lips.  

Ignoring the way his cock is begging to seethe itself inside of you, Johnny takes hold of your face with both of his hands, kissing you once more. He couldn’t get enough of how your lips tasted. You tasted yourself on his lips and you couldn’t get enough of it. 

Johnny pulls away from the kiss and pulls you around where you are facing the bathroom mirror. In the reflection you saw the way your makeup was running a little bit, and the way you looked so blissed out from your orgasm. The moment you looked up towards Johnny’s reflection, you felt yourself clenching around nothing. Lust, hooded eyes looked back at you through the mirror.  

You felt Johnny press himself against you. His warm and throbbing cock resting against your ass, you pressed yourself further into him. A groan leaves his lips as he looks down at the way your plump ass wants to suck his length in-between them.  

Johnny then leans in towards your ear, another smirk playing on his lips. “Be a good girl and take it, yeah?” He says as he takes the side of your ear into his mouth delivering a small nip causing chills and goosebumps to course through your body.  

You then see Johnny pull himself up, spit onto his hand before he guides it down to his length and pumps himself — getting it ready for your weeping entrance — all through the mirror. The fact that he was about to fuck you in front of mirror had your mind doing all sorts of somersaults as you edge towards that feral feeling growing larger than life in your chest.  

Johnny takes hold of the base of his cock and starts to align it to your entrance. He teases your entrance with his tip, slowly putting it in before he pulls it out. This causes you to whimper at his teasing, but all it does is draw a chuckle from him as he glides his cock in-between your folds.  

The fat of his head hits your clit in continuous glides that almost makes you see stars.  

“Johnny please —” you cry out as you hang your head down as you tried not to cry over the edging feeling he gives you.  

“Please what? Use your big girl voice for me angel.” Johnny teases as he continued his teasing.  

“Johnny please fuck me! P-please fu—” the rest of your sentence falls into a scream as you felt Johnny thrust his hard length into your entrance in one go.  

The burning sensation of the obscene stretch he gave you made your toes curl as he started to fuck you slowly, letting you somewhat get used to his size.  

“What was that?” Johnny laughed as he saw the way the lustful blush takes over your face and chest. You instantly felt yourself getting dumb on his cock as he pounded into you so meanly.  

The way your walls sucked him in drove the two of you crazy. You felt the way his vein pulsed within you that it made you clench down onto him. Johnny swore under his breath at the tight feeling you were creating around his pulsing length. 

“Fuck — keep clenching me like that angel and I'm not gonna last long for you.” Johnny said as he held onto your hips tightly.

Incoherent words fall from your lips as you savored the delicious feeling of Johnny’s cock gliding in and out of your sopping entrance. Johnny traced his hand up from its place on your hips and brought it to the front of your dress. He pulls the fabric down, causing your breast to spill out from their hold. Johnny takes both of your breasts and places them into each hand of his, giving them both a squeeze causing the two of you to moan. Johnny takes one of your hardened nipples between his fingertips and pinches it.  

Moan, after moan leaves your lips as the sensations your bodyguard is giving you. Behind the noise of your moans, you could hear the sound of skin slapping against one another and the squelching sounds coming out from your entrance.  

You felt a hand wrap around your hair and tug it backwards making you look into the mirror to already see Johnny looking at you with such a lustful look you honestly believe you could cum on the spot.  

“Look at me as I fuck this pretty pussy of your angel.” He speaks roughly as he continues to plough into you. “Look at how. You. Take. It.” Johnny emphasizes with each hard thrust into you.  

You bit your lips as you watched the way Johnny started to get lost within your wet walls. You saw the way his eyes rolled to the back of his head, and he tossed his head back, relishing the feeling. It was like seeing a switch flip within his mind as he looked down at the connection between the two of you.  

Johnny's hair fell in his face and started to stick to his sweaty skin as he started to deliver merciless thrusts into your abused whole that it had you on your tippytoes.   

“Fuckin’ take it. Take it like the good girl that you are baby.” Johnny groans out as he heard your cry of how good he’s hitting your walls.  

Johnny snaked his hand around your waist and down to your front. His fingertips started to press down onto your clit and moving them side to side, causing you to moan out loudly.  

“Whose pussy does it belong to?” Johnny questioned as he continued his movements on your swollen clit.  

“Y-you — oh God!” you moaned out as he started to hit that one spot inside of you making you see stars. 

A jolted slap was heard in the room as Johnny’s hand came down on your clit with a sharp slap. A cry-like moan falls from your lips as you push yourself back against Johnny.  

“Whose does it belong to?” Johnny said again as he delivered three more slaps in a row to your stinging clit. 

“You! Fuck — you do Johnny!” you cried out as you started to feel the same tightness feeling at the base of your spine start to coil.  

“That’s fucking right. You're my baby. This pussy is mine. Let me find out you’re letting another man touch what is mine and I’m going to mess you up.” Johnny seethes as he pounded into you even harder than before.  

The repetitive sensation of Johnny hitting your spot within your walls makes you see double the stars than before. “I’m gon—” Without warning you started to come around Johnny’s length. You felt your body shiver at how intense the orgasm was. Your legs started to shake as you started to feel the overstimulation take its course considering Johnny hasn’t relented to his intense pounding.  

Johnny was so close to his release as he continued to pound into you even as you tightened yourself up. He continued to stimulate your overly abused clit, drawing cries from you. “Give me one more angel. Just one more for me.” Johnny said as he sounded restless trying to get that one last orgasm for himself.  

“Nngh! S-so full and—and big! Feel so good!” You cried out as tears started to fall from your eyes as the overstimulation started to take its course officially through your body.  

“That’s right baby, fuck — I make you feel so good.” Johnny said in between his teeth as he felt his balls tighten up, ready to release their load.  

“Where do you want me to come angel?” Johnny asked as he wrapped his hand around your throat, as he looked at your fucked out expression through the mirror.  

“Inside of me! Please, please, please.” You begged as you made eye contact with Johnny through the mirror. The way your eyes glistened with unshed tears, the flush on your face, the way your hair clung onto your sweaty forehead, and just the fucked outlook you were giving him was enough to make him blow his load inside of you.  

Strings of curses left Johnny’s lips as his stomach clenched and thighs shake slightly as he let go inside of you completely. The feeling of his sticky ropes painting your walls, caused you to go into your third orgasm of the night.  

As the two of you rode out your highs together, the weight of the situation between the two of you started to settle within the two of you. As Johnny pulled himself out, cleaning you and him in the process, a deathifying silence fell. You weren’t sure how to approach the topic. Do you say this was a one-time thing or are you guys actually together now?  

“What I said about you being mine —” Johnny says as he helps you straighten your dress out and clean a bit of the running makeup on your face. “—I meant it.” He says in a gentle tone.  

The moment those words left his words, you felt breathless at his slight confession. “Johnny I —”  

“Please spare me if you’re going to reject me after all this.” He said as he played with a lock of your hair. 

“I was going to say, I understood what you meant.” You said as you placed your hands on his chest, closing the slight gap between the two of you. “I don’t want someone else when I have you.”  

Johnny leaned down and you met him halfway where the two of you shared a passionate kiss, sealing the promise you have for one another.

[viagostalons]

When Rook doesn't return victorious from slaying gods, in fact, when Rook does not return at all, the companions all sink their teeth into trying to find him. They work, day in and out, to make sure they are ready for the final battle with or without Rook. They scour the Fade, trying to find him and bring him home.

Lucanis, broken and empty, knows he has to talk to Viago. He has to be the one to return to Treviso to tell the Fifth Talon that his protege is gone. He doesn't want to tell him; not because he doesn't think Viago deserves to know, but because Viago has worked so hard for all he has. Viago, who fears losing everything, has now lost his Rook. His protege, his heir, and family.

Viago loves Rook with righteous fierceness. Viago would tear the world down for Rook, even if he would also yell at him for being an idiot in the same breath. Rook would do the same for Viago. Rook cares for Viago so much, he's always worried Viago will not approve of him.

Viago would never admit it but he approves of Rook more than anyone. It's why he sent Rook away -- to spare him the certain death he faced against the Talons. Viago made sure he was out of Treviso as soon as possible. He would not see Rook destroyed for a well-meaning transgression.

But Lucanis does go to Treviso, Emmrich in tow, and he tries to speak but he's hollow. The only thing he can manage is to grip Viago by the shoulders, his head hanging, shaking back and forth in pain. Emmrich is gentle when he starts explaining the complexities of the Fade and how they are not stopping from finding him.

Viago takes it all in stride, even while his heart is pounding so hard he fears he's about to die. Teia comes to Lucanis to hug him, holding him tightly, because Viago is incapable of moving. For the first time in many years, Viago has to sit down and put his face in his hands.

He yells at the fledglings around him to leave and they flee quickly. The Fifth Talon is known to have a temper but this is a rage they've never seen. He sinks down and fights back a wave of tears but it's a losing battle. When he hears Lucanis break down, he follows. He turns into a mess, a compromised, agonized mess.

How could he have lost the one person he loves more than anything else in his life? He sent Rook away to save Rook. Sure, Rook is a disaster but at the end of the day, he believes in Rook more assuredly than he believes in anything else. Rook had friends -- Lucanis Dellamorte included -- to keep him safe.

Viago wears black for the three weeks Rook is gone.

He doesn't sleep. He barely eats. He studies books on the Fade, trying to see if there is anything he can do. He consumes himself with work so he doesn't have to address the stabbing pain in his chest. He tries to dismiss his feelings, even as Teia tries to make him talk to her. Crows die all the time -- Rook is no different.

But Rook is different because Rook is his.

Viago almost gives up hope when word comes. He runs through the Eluvian before Teia can process anything. He runs up the stairs and skids to a stop to see Rook standing there, surrounded by his companions. His friends. Lucanis looks like he's seen a ghost.

Viago is no better.

He stumbles up to Rook and turns him around. Fury fills him and his instinct is start lecturing Rook on being reckless and stupid. But all he can manage is a tearful, "Idiot." before he drags Rook into his arms to hold him.

Rook is real. Rook is here.

[purple-babygirl]

in the far corner of the forest IV

Pairing: Orc!Bucky Barnes x human!f!reader

Word Count: 6,540

Summary: For the longest time, the kingdom has used Bucky as their number one fighter, forcing him to win their wars for them. The only thing he asked for in return after he was done was that they give him a wife, and they did. They handed him the orphan he picked on a silver platter; it wasn't like anyone would miss her. It would've been perfect if she actually wanted to be there though.

Warnings: mentions of hand injury, idiots in love, feels, jealousy, racism against orcs, angry behaviour, shouting, fight gets slightly physical, bruised arm, crying, angst (i'm sorry). I think that's all.

A/N: good news result in long chapters. thank you from the bottom of my heart for everyone who has wished me good luck with my interview, you guys are angels. please enjoyxx💜💜

~

“You’re in love.”

“I’m what now!?” Bucky chuckled dismissively as he dropped his axe.

Bucky had spent half a day at home, refraining from going to work because of his hand’s condition, but as much as he loved staying home with her, he knew he wasn’t made to take a break.

So he thought he would visit, talk to Sam for a bit and maybe get some pent up ‘feelings’ out on some tree logs. His metal arm was still working just fine after all.

“I said, you’re in love with your human wife,” Sam repeated, smiling so warmly that Bucky wanted to smack him.

“I got her a few weeks ago.” Bucky shook his head in denial of the mere idea of him falling for anyone, let alone a human.

He did love Sam and Sarah, but that was it. They were the only humans he could tolerate. He hated the rest of them. Hell, he hated the human half of himself.

Bucky was just trying to make life easier for himself, that was all. He has been through enough conflicts and he didn’t need this in his marriage too. He deserved to live a normal life like everybody else.

Yes, he was courting her, and maybe he did constantly crave the feel of her body against his ever since she let him hug her the night of the injury, and he was definitely getting hopeful now that she hadn’t tried to run for a whole half day, but that didn’t mean he was in love! Did it?

“And now you’re in love with her.” Sam smirked, knowing how much it drove Bucky crazy that a female human had him on his knees for her love.

“Quit saying that!” Bucky stood up, ready to walk away from his annoying friend.

“Why does it make you so angry that you’re in lo—”

“Don’t,” Bucky warned him, eyes angry and glaring.

“—ve?”

“I am not in love with her, okay! She’s human! Plus, that girl drives me crazy! Do you know how many times I had to bring her back after she’d tried to run in the first two weeks? Five fucking times! That’s almost once every two days, Sam. And she only had one foot working!” Bucky ranted heatedly, desperate to negate his best friend’s theory.

Was he in love with her? And if Sam could see it, did that mean she could too?

“Well, why do you care to bring her back? Why not just let her run?” Sam shrugged, internally dying for Bucky to acknowledge his feelings.

“She could die out there! Humans are weak.”

“So?” Sam probed, intentionally ignoring Bucky’s remark about humans’ strength.

“So— so I signed all those things when she was offered to me. She can’t— I can’t—”

“You can’t?”

“I can’t let her get hurt,” Bucky admitted lowly, sitting down on a log with a loud sigh.

“Why does that make you so upset?” Sam dug deeper.

“Because I think you’re right. I think I might be in love with her.” Bucky rubbed his eye with his good hand, pushing his hair back angrily.

“And?”

“And she thinks I’m the devil.” Bucky’s face fell to his palms.

“Did she ever say that to you out loud?” Sam asked, touching the end of his sharpened blade.

“She doesn’t need to, Sam. I see it in her eyes every time I find her after she’d tried to run away.” Bucky’s voice was broken like his friend has never heard before.

“I thought you said everything was better after your injury?”

“Yeah, but that’s not gonna last forever.” Bucky gave a sad grin, “she’s soon gonna go back to seeing me the same as before.”

“Well, it’s up to you to change her mind, Buck.” Sam patted his friend’s shoulder, giving a squeeze.

Bucky sighed once more before getting up.

Sam was a human. A very handsome one with much less scars and non-icy skin. He would never understand. It would never work. She hated him.

He could continue trying, but it wouldn’t change anything of the way she felt about him and their marriage. She had told him time and time again how she felt about both.

“Going home already?”

“Yeah, I can’t miss the running away bit. It’s my favourite,” he sighed, Sam's laugh trailing behind him.

“Smile at her for a change.”

“Shut up.” I do smile at her. I only ever smile at her.

“Sarah loved the jam by the way!” Sam yelled.

“I’ll let her know!” Bucky yelled back before exhaling sadly.

Sam would never understand. Her taking pity on him those past couple of hours was nothing more than sympathy and likely even guilt.

Sam would never understand that of all the eyes in the world, it seems like Bucky has managed to fall for the only ones that knew how to hurt him, the eyes that would only look at him as a disgusting, frightening monster.

~

When Bucky got home, everything was creepily in place. His door was closed like he had left it and he actually had to use his key to open it for the first time in a while.

Stepping inside, the warm smell of roast chicken welcomed him back.

The house was warm because all the windows were actually shut, too. It was all so calm and homely; the orc was seriously worried.

And then he heard it: his human wife’s sweet voice, humming the melody of a song unfamiliar to him. It sounded like it was coming from the kitchen.

Bucky carefully shut the door behind him, not wanting her peaceful mood to end so soon as he tried to take lighter steps to where she was.

Much to his dismay though, she needed something from the other side of the kitchen and when she turned around she saw Bucky and gasped, jumping embarrassingly high.

“You scared me!” She whined, holding a hand to her heart.

“Sorry.” Bucky smirked, entertained by how cute she looked when startled.

“Welcome home,” she mumbled with a bit-back grin, holding onto his forearms before getting on her tiptoes to plant a kiss on Bucky’s cheek.

She never told him, but she was unbelievably thankful when he didn’t specify which type of kiss he expected weeks ago, and even more thankful when he didn’t object to her pecking his cheek before burying herself under the covers.

Life with Bucky has gotten undeniably familiar lately and leaving him was all of a sudden an idea that didn’t interest her as much as before.

Everything he was saying and doing has brought her closer to him without her even comprehending it.

As the days passed, she had realized running away was too exhausting, too risky, and for what? It wasn’t like she had a home to run to or a treasure buried somewhere or a lover worth escaping her orc for.

Her orc.

Hers.

A word she never felt the meaning of until the day Bucky made her his wife.

Bucky was the first and only one to present to her a taste of something she has never had: the feeling of exclusively owning things.

The smile that graced her face when she brushed her hair the first time with the brush Bucky got her was new and unprecedented.

Her brush, he called it.

Her shoes. Her chair. Her towel. Her clothes. Her books. Her side of the bed. Her cottage. Her kitchen.

And her husband.

Everything was brand new and completely hers.

Nothing was handed down to her, nothing was used before the minute her fingers had touched it. None of the things Bucky gifted her had previous owners, including him and his heart.

Most importantly, she didn’t have to share any of it with anybody.

“You’re home,” Bucky said, a surprised yet very happy smile lighting up his handsome features.

“I thought the wife was supposed to say that,” she replied playfully, going back to the bubbling pot.

Bucky raised his eyebrows at the good mood she seemed to be in. He was liking this.

He watched her sprinkle some black pepper into the soup as he came behind her.

She could feel the heat of his body surrounding her even when they weren’t touching and it had her heartbeat going crazy.

“Thank you, little human,” Bucky whispered, before he leaned down and pecked her cheek as well, his stubble and blunt tusks tickling her jaw.

She felt her whole body jolt with electricity at the simple graze of his lips and tusks on her skin as she closed her eyes.

Bucky left the kitchen and went to the bathroom but she was still hot as if his warmth never left her.

And when she opened her eyes and absentmindedly reached her fingertips to touch her cheek, she found herself smiling too.

What was happening to her? What was this foreign feeling lifting her off of her feet in the middle of the kitchen?

“Sam’s sister loved your strawberry jam by the way!” Bucky shouted to her from the bathroom, making her jump again before smiling to herself.

He didn’t use Sarah’s name on purpose, not wanting to ruin her happy mood as he had noticed how angry she got every time he would say it.

“I’ll make her more tomorrow!” She replied with a grin, proud of her hand’s work, her jealousy long forgotten after Bucky’s words of the night before.

After all, how could she be jealous when she was the one that Bucky was looking at like that?

~

When she finished setting up the table and Bucky didn’t come out of the bathroom, she got a little worried.

He never took too long during his showers, and now that he only had one arm to use, she thought he would cut his showers even shorter.

What if his wound was bleeding again and he didn’t want to tell her and was trying to fix it by himself inside the bathroom? She knew she should have stopped him from going to the yard!

“Bucky.” She knocked on the door softly, wanting to make sure he was okay.

“Yes, little human?” Bucky instantly opened the door for her.

And he looked like a dream.

Steam has surrounded him inside the bathroom, water drops from his still-wet hair dripping down his muscular, bare chest and for the first time since Bucky has been naked around her, she found herself looking at him. Actually looking.

Bucky’s chest was so broad, beefy and ribbed down to his abdomen. Scars of all sizes and shapes littered the beautiful, icy greyish skin, a reminder of the battles he had fought and all the sacrifices he had made.

Her heart clenched at the sight, a pang of sympathy coursing through her as she could only imagine the pain he must have had to endure.

Still, she found her hands tingling in curiosity, desperate to know what tracing the healed skin would feel like under her fingertips.

Bucky was a sight for sore eyes, a sight that both captivated and unnerved her, stirring a flurry of unfamiliar emotions in her chest that she struggled to contain.

She averted her gaze, feeling a wave of embarrassment wash over her at the unexpected intimacy of the moment.

“Are—” she chocked, her voice barely above a whisper as she coughed it out, “are you okay? You took a while.”

“Yeah, I’m just having a hard time drying up my hair with one arm,” Bucky reassured her, chuckling lightly at his dilemma as he let the towel around his neck drop.

He was completely oblivious to the way he just made her face burn up as her thoughts spiraled out of control.

“Come.” She took Bucky’s hand in hers, careful not to squeeze his palm, and led him outside to their bed.

It took Bucky a second to move his feet, but when he did, he felt like he was being carried on top of a cloud.

She felt herself drawn to him in a way she couldn’t quite explain, her heart pounding with a mixture of nervousness, curiosity and… desire. A new sensation was tingling all over her body, specifically in places she didn’t need to be tingling right now.

Positioning herself between his parted legs, she reached to take the towel from around Bucky’s neck.

His eyes watched her, surprise flickering in them as he realized what she was going to do, unable to believe what was happening.

Sensing her nervousness, Bucky offered her a reassuring, grateful smile, silently encouraging her to continue.

And as she began to carefully pat his damp hair dry, her touch tentative and her eyes focused, he felt warmth welling up inside him.

She couldn’t help but steal glances at his bare shoulder and chest, her cheeks burning with embarrassment at the engrossing sight. It was a feeling unlike anything she has ever experienced before, her heart racing with unparalleled excitement.

The awkwardness of the situation began to fade bit by bit as she focused more on the task at hand, in its place growing an overwhelming sense of closeness and familiarity.

Bucky’s hair was so soft under her fingertips as she took the towel up and down the brown locks. She wished she had given herself a chance to touch it more before.

As she finished drying her orc’s hair, she met his gaze with a shy bite of her lip, her eyes sparkling with newfound confidence.

Bucky reached out to take her hands, his smile appreciative as his lips pressed a deep kiss on each palm, silently thanking her for her kindness and care.

~

“I didn’t know your cooking was so good. You surprise me every day,” Bucky praised, as she filled his mouth with more lentil soup, trying not to think of his conversation with Sam or the way his body was still on fire from the mere act of her drying his hair for him.

He couldn’t even believe she was feeding him after seeing him struggle to keep the food on his spoon using his left hand.

“All the girls at the orphanage know how to cook. They teach us all sorts of things and make us to be good housewives,” she replied, suddenly nostalgic of her days at the orphanage, curious to know how, where and when Bucky got the chance to see her back then.

Bucky didn’t say anything, busying his mouth with chewing some bread as his smile shrank.

She didn’t look happy. Why did she stay then? Was she planning on running away at night that day? Maybe she put something in the food?

“I’m glad you like your dinner though,” she said, breaking the thick silence with a soft smile as she fed the orc a piece of chicken.

“Why didn’t you try to leave today?” Bucky couldn’t hold back.

She was taken aback by his question. She thought he wanted her here.

Was he finally done? Did he want her out? Was he not going to look for her this time? Has Bucky given up on her? Was he going to leave her be had she gotten out today?

Most importantly, she didn’t know how to answer because it seemed like she was done running away from her new life with him, and she didn’t know if she could admit that.

“I– did you want me to?” She asked, her voice strained as she tried to hold in the tears.

“No! No, of course not!” He assured her quickly.

“Then?” She chewed on her lip.

“I don’t want you to stop running if it makes you feel alive,” Bucky told her, his blue eyes gushing with love he didn’t intend to show, “I’m willing to go to the ends of the earth to find you.”

“What?” She wasn’t expecting this at all, all the tingles she had hardly managed to shake off after drying Bucky’s wet hair coming back to attack her.

How were these words coming out of an orc! And why did they make her heart stutter in its beats?

“I love your fiery spirit and I’m afraid I’m killing it by keeping you here against your wishes. I never want to be the one to snuff your fire out.” Bucky admitted, eyes sincere as he watched her.

She just stared at him for a moment, stunned as her heart skipped yet another beat.

If he only knew that he was the one who had managed to bring this fiery personality to life.

Bucky respected her silence and went back to enjoying his dinner, not wanting to push her for a reply. She could take her time.

She kept staring at him in confusion for another minute before taking her almost untouched plate and getting up.

She almost ran to the kitchen with her hand on her heart.

What was going on with her? Her heart wasn’t seriously beating this loud for the orc. Could it be?

He sounded so selfless and spoke so gently like he has never before and she was overwhelmed.

His words were doing things to her that she has never felt before. What was wrong with her?

She knew she had caught herself staring at him without a shirt just minutes ago, maybe admiring his eyelashes as he slept in some early mornings, but she rendered it curiosity and nothing more.

She shook her head, her thoughts startling to her as she emptied her plate in the garbage and started washing it vigorously.

Bucky no longer had an appetite, sighing at her reaction.

He told himself he could understand, but it was still hurtful the way she jumped out of her chair.

He left his plate on the table, not wanting to invade her privacy by going to the kitchen before leaving the cottage altogether.

He probably shouldn’t have said anything.

~

She revisited the subject the same afternoon though, not wanting there to be any misunderstandings between her and Bucky. Not any longer.

“I don’t wanna leave anymore,” she admitted timidly, making Bucky’s smile betray him and his usual frowning.

“But I don’t like being locked away in here all day either,” she said carefully, scared to upset him.

“Where do you wanna go? The forest is dangerous, little human.” Bucky was back to frowning at the thought of anything bad happening to her again.

It was torture for him when her foot was still healing and he was the most relieved when it finally did. He couldn’t just let her roam around when she didn’t know the area.

“Take me out when you come back from work maybe? Or even on your day off,” she suggested, desperate to see the world.

“And go where?”

“Anywhere. We can walk around the woods before it gets dark, you could show me your shop, I could meet Sam? Or we could even go to the market!” She suggested eagerly.

She has been locked up for so long and she didn’t want to continue her life like this.

Bucky actually thought about it and he didn’t hate the idea. Taking her out with him would ensure her safety. He would be by her side and he would protect her. He also liked the thought of taking her out and properly courting her even if she didn’t know that that was what he was doing.

He said he didn’t want to kill her spirit by keeping her in here and she gave him the solution.

“Okay.” Bucky nodded at her with a smile.

“Okay?” She exclaimed happily, not believing Bucky would actually take her out to see around.

“Okay.” He nodded again reassuringly, her happiness making him laugh.

“Well, don’t you have tomorrow off?” She asked suggestively, gesturing to his hand.

Bucky laughed, nodding, “put your shoes on.”

“Thank you, Bucky.” She involuntarily gave his healing hand a squeeze, kissing his cheek before running to get her shoes.

Bucky swallowed hard, hoping he would be able to hold himself together and not completely melt under her sweet company.

“You’ve got to promise me though,” he said.

She looked at him questioningly as she slipped one foot into a shoe.

“No running away, little human.”

“No running away. Promise.” She promised, shaking her head with a shy smile.

Bucky smiled big, taking her smaller hand in his as she grabbed her basket in the other, ready to browse the market with her husband.

Her husband. That was starting to sound unquestionably comforting.

“Oh, and one more thing.”

“What?” She tilted her head with a grin.

“You owe me a kiss,” Bucky said, his tone serious.

“No, I don’t! If anything, I just gave you an extra kiss!”

“Yes, you do. From that morning. You’re still one kiss behind!”

“I just made up for it!”

“Doesn’t count. That one covers the night before.” Bucky shrugged, a smile etched on his lips.

“Okay, fine.” She kissed Bucky’s cheek, “stop going around saying other girls’ names though.”

Bucky laughed, “I only know one!”

“Still too many,” she whispered under her breath, but Bucky heard it, smiling from ear to ear as he took his hand in hers, taking the right path out of the woods. ~ It was a beautiful afternoon, full of warm sunshine and fruitful deals. She has got some pretty good stuff for really good prices.

She couldn’t believe Bucky actually gave her pocket money.

He didn’t want her to have to ask him for money every time something caught her eye. He wanted her independent, fulfilled and brave as she bought herself whatever her heart desired.

Her heart was so full and her smile was inerasable.

Bucky didn’t let go of her hand all day and she actually liked it so much that she never complained. The feel of his calloused skin against her soft palm wasn’t like anything she has felt before.

She didn’t want to let go of his hand even while looking at the different stands and booths at the market.

But she eventually liked the flower stand too much and told Bucky she would take a look at them while he continued buying them the fruits he was picking.

“Good afteroon,” a smooth voice interrupted her admiration of the potted plants before her, making her look up for a second.

“Good afternoon.” She smiled coyly.

“Any favorites?” The handsome man inside the booth asked her.

“All of them,” she giggled softly, the sound catching Bucky’s ears at once.

The man laughed back, “okay, I think I have something special for you. How about this one?” He brought her a purple flower from the batch hidden behind him inside the booth.

“Oh, how beautiful! What is this one?” She wondered, amazement sparkling in her eyes at the sight of the pretty petals.

“That is a Globemaster Allium. Pretty, isn’t she?” He asked, staring at her desirously as she looked at the flower.

“Yes, she’s stunning!”

“I’m Cole by the way—”

She heard Bucky clear his throat next to her and looked up at once, the innocent awe in her eyes softening the orc a little.

“Look, Bucky! Isn’t this the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen?” She pointed to the flower pot excitedly.

Bucky leaned in, his frown scaring her a little, her breath hitching when his lips tickled the shell of her ear, “no, little human, you’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”

She chocked on her own saliva, hiding her hot face with her hand as she coughed, “Bucky!” She whined with a shy smile.

Where did that come from!

“Let’s go,” Bucky said with a nod of his head, eyes stern as he glared at Cole.

“Can—” She held his wrist, “can I have it?” She asked softly, gesturing to the flower pot.

Bucky wanted to say no. He didn’t want her to have this farmer’s flower. But he couldn’t say no to those hopeful, beautiful eyes of hers.

“Fine.” He watched her get the money out of her pocket and she smiled gratefully as she almost set them down on Cole’s counter.

“It’s on the house,” Cole said, still smiling dreamily at her.

She could all but swallow as she gave a polite smile back before looking up at Bucky for help.

“Take your goddamn money.” Bucky made a quick job of paying for the flower, taking the money from her and slamming it on the counter, making the whole booth shake.

He quickly took his wife home, deciding that was enough socialization for the both of them for the day.

She wasn’t going to lie, she was loving jealousy on her orc. It felt so intoxicating to have someone love her so much that he was jealous of other men talking to her.

She wouldn’t tell Bucky, but she would probably spend the nights of the next week smiling at the wall every time she remembered how he held her hand back home just a little bit tighter that day.

Her own heart was running wild at the sight of the orc now and she didn’t want it any other way.

~

“Now you know how it feels,” she teased with a smile as they were getting ready for bed.

Bucky couldn’t let it go, talking about how they were never going to stop by that farmer’s flower booth ever again.

“That’s not the same! I was never into Sarah! But that man was openly ogling you!” Bucky grumbled, his frown digging deep into the skin of his forehead.

“He was just being nice, trying to sell his flowers,” she laughed, upsetting Bucky even more.

How couldn’t she see it? The guy was all over her!

“He was flirting and you were all giggles and blushes.” Bucky copied her, going to the bed and burying himself under the covers, facing the wall.

He understood now why she had done that.

“Hey, that’s my spot!” She joked, not knowing if Bucky was being serious.

“Not tonight,” he murmured from underneath the covers.

“Bucky,” she whined, uncovering her orc’s face.

Bucky didn’t reply, pushing himself closer to the wall.

She tried to bring him on his back by the shoulder like he so easily did her a couple of night ago, but he was too strong for her and his body wouldn’t budge.

She huffed, “okay, you left me no choice.”

Bucky remained still, wanting to see what she meant by that as he felt her shift behind him.

Before he knew it, she was on top of his bicep, trying to slot herself between his body and the wall.

“What on earth—”

“You started it, Bucky!” She said, voice determined as she kept pushing, trying to squeeze herself in the small space accessible.

Bucky looked at her in amusement for a second before moving back, making her body drop as larger space became available.

She landed with the tiniest “ouff” on the mattress, facing Bucky on her side with her back to the wall, its coolness helping soothe the heat rising to the surface of her skin.

That was the closest she had been to Bucky since their hug the night of his injury, face to face as his passionate sapphire eyes watched hers.

“Hi,” she whispered, heart in her throat.

“Hi,” Bucky replied with a charming smile, smoothing some of her ruffled strands back in place.

She stared at the orc’s eyes, not the slightest bit scared of the fact that she was trapped against the wall by his huge body.

“You’re not the only one who wants to be loyal to this marriage, Bucky,” she said, surprising Bucky and herself, “I don’t want the farmer. I don’t want anyone else.” but you.

Bucky smiled in disbelief, taken aback by her words, and she took it as permission to move closer to his chest. He instinctively wrapped her up in a protective hug, wondering how he was able to hold himself back from kissing her.

She pushed her face into her orc’s chest, his scent and warmth engulfing her into a protective bubble.

She couldn’t believe she said the words she has just said and it made her bury her burning face deeper in Bucky’s arms.

He could only hug her tighter, his nose in her sweet-smelling hair as his smile grew bigger.

This moment right there was everything Bucky has ever wished for. He could die a happy orc right then and there.

~

It became a habit for them to go out to the village on Bucky’s day off. They were both having a great time, getting closer and falling harder.

Cole hasn’t spoken to her again after learning that the snow orc was actually her husband, and she respected Bucky’s feelings and never approached Cole’s booth no matter how pretty the plants on his stand were.

Market outings were their thing now and she wasn’t going to let anything ruin that.

She didn’t want anyone else’s attention but Bucky’s anyway. His hand has almost fully healed and she could now squeeze it all she wanted whenever she got excited about anything they encountered.

One thing did occur that annoyed her though and that was the way the jewelry lady would look at her every time she and Bucky would pass by. The woman had so much pity in her eyes when she saw her hand in an orc’s and she hated it.

She despised the way people misjudged her orc when he was far better than any human man she could’ve ever ended up with.

Yet, the lady kept giving her those pitiful looks, probably thinking Bucky had enslaved her or something.

But enough was enough.

When Bucky was busy looking at the knives, she made her way to the jewelry lady, determined to put an end to the ridiculousness.

“He is my husband,” she sternly told the lady in the jewelry stand, taking the chance that Bucky wasn’t listening.

“Oh.” The lady quickly gave a kind smile, turning from concerned about her to happy for her, “I apologize for misjudging you, dear. I was only worried about you. We’ve all heard stories about him.”

“Well, that’s all they are. Stories.” She ferociously defended, her eyes still stern.

“I’m sorry,” the woman sincerely expressed her regret, squeezing her hand.

She nodded with a small smile, accepting the older woman’s apology.

“I don’t see a ring on your hand.” The jewelry lady gestured to the collection of rings in her glass box with a wink.

“Oh.”

The sentence caught Bucky’s ears as he turned away to look at her embarrassed face.

“We didn’t get time to buy one. It all happened so quickly,” she explained awkwardly and Bucky’s expression fell.

“I have a pretty collection if you wanna take a look, and don’t worry about the price,” the older lady suggested kindly.

“No, it’s okay—”

“Choose what you like, sweet thing,” Bucky whispered to her, immediately by her side when he saw her eyes skimming over the jewelry, “I’m sorry I’m not familiar with the human marriage traditions. I should’ve gotten you one sooner.”

“It’s okay, Bucky. You don’t have to,” she reassured with a tender smile.

She didn’t need a ring to know that she was Bucky’s.

“I want to. I want you to wear my ring, little human.” Bucky raised her hands to his lips, placing the softest kisses on her each finger.

Her heart surged as a shy smile spread on her lips, heat rising to her cheeks.

“Okay.” She nodded happily, feeling like she was in a dream and she never wanted to wake up.

Though very expensive, Bucky ended up buying her the ring she chose. It was the prettiest gold ring with a moss agate blue diamond.

She tried to talk him out of it, wanting to pick something cheaper, but Bucky wouldn’t have it.

She has never felt as special as she felt with Bucky’s ring on her finger. It was the prettiest thing from the most handsome orc.

And in that very moment, she was the happiest that she trusted her gut; that she gave Bucky, and herself a chance for this marriage to be something more than a contractual deal.

Bucky couldn’t believe she has finally let him make her his. When he slipped that ring on her tiny finger, he felt like he was king of the world.

While walking back to their cottage, a new dream got unlocked inside of her, one that included her and Bucky and their very own little stand in the market.

“Can we stop by the shop before we go home?” She asked tentatively.

“Sure, why? Did you forget something there yesterday?”

She has been to the shop a couple of times, curious to meet the important people in Bucky’s life and possibly have friends of her own, too.

“No, just wanna show Sarah the ring,” she said, a shy smile lighting up her happy face.

Bucky brought her hand to his lips, kissing her ring finger this time, “to the shop it is.”

~

Everything was going amazingly and she wished with all her heart that it would stay that way, but unfortunately, the very next day was a day for another fight that none of them saw coming.

Bucky still hasn’t recovered from her little stunt a few weeks ago and today he came back to find the cottage empty again.

He should have locked the door. He shouldn’t have trusted that a ring on her finger might stop her old habits or give her a magical change of heart.

What about all the small moments she had shared? Did those mean nothing to her?

Bucky’s anger and feeling of betrayal wiped away everything nice that had happened between the two of them, only remembering that she never wanted to be here in the very first place.

“Why are you so adamant about making me lose my mind?” Bucky asked, pushing her inside and slamming the door behind them.

“I’m not! Would you just listen?!” She yelled back, startled by the harsh treatment.

“What the hell were you thinking?!” Bucky shouted as if he didn’t hear her.

“I was just—”

“Wandering through the forest alone is dangerous, I’ve told you time and again, and yet you keep doing it!”

“Would you listen to me?!” 

“No! You acted like you would stop running, so what changed?!” Bucky threw his big arms in the air, making her take a step back.

Bucky looked bigger than he usually did when he was livid like that.

“I wasn’t running!” She repeated, her voice tinged with anger of her own at the distrust.

“Stop lying!” Bucky growled, roughly grabbing her by the arm.

“I’m not lying,” she insisted as she tried not to wince at the way Bucky held her forearm, her jaw clenched defiantly.

“Then what were you doing up the hill, huh?” Bucky unconsciously squeezed her arm harder.

“You’re hurting me.” She tried to pull away, but Bucky wouldn’t release her.

“You think you’re the only one who has fucking feelings?” Bucky shook her in his hold, unintentionally bruising her further.

She cried out but it fell on deaf ears, “Bucky, let me go!”

“Do you think what you do doesn’t affect me just because I’m not a goddamn human?!” He forced her closer, making her tears fall as he barked in her face.

His words hung heavy in the air, echoing through the spacious room.

“Bucky, please,” she tried again, not wanting to fight anymore.

Bucky finally listened, suddenly shocked at his actions as he let her arm go.

It’s been so long since he had made her cry and he just ruined everything good he had worked on building with her.

She just stood there, whimpering in pain as she held her arm to her chest.

Bucky watched her roll the sleeve of her winter dress up to look at her arm and there they were: thick fingerprints on her flesh.

“I— I’m sorry,” he whispered, trying to get closer to look at her arm, swallowing hard.

To his surprise, she let him.

“I’m sorry, little human.” Bucky wiped a few of her tears away, regret evident in his voice.

“I wasn’t running,” she repeated, pushing her hands in the pockets of her dress, “I was collecting berries to decorate the cake I made earlier.” She pulled handfuls of now ruined wild strawberries, raspberries and blackberries out of her pockets and dropped them on the wooden table for him to see.

She left Bucky alone to stare at the berries and went to the kitchen.

And boy did he stare.

He felt so stupid and ashamed at the way he had reacted. He just hurt her and she wasn’t even trying to leave. He wouldn’t let her explain either and had unjustly judged her.

She got out a cold water bottle from the fridge, pushing it to her bruised arm.

Bucky walked into the kitchen, shame branded on his face.

“Are you okay?” He asked, not knowing what to do to correct his mistake.

“What do you think?!” She irritably snapped at him, waving her bruised arm in the air.

“I just wanted to help!” Bucky barked back.

“Well, I don’t want your help!” She shouted.

“Fine! Don’t want it!” Bucky walked out, his feet stomping on the wooden floors.

He stormed out of the cottage, violently slamming the door behind him.

Bucky then realized what he has just done and how he had made the situation even worse. He kicked a rock so hard he was sure it flew to the other side of the forest as he saw birds flying disruptively.

“Damn it!” He yelled out loud, slamming his fist to the door, making her flinch inside the cottage.

The fight between the orc’s rough exterior and his rather tender feelings for her was torturing Bucky. What he meant to show was that he cared about her and was worried for her, but instead he’d done what he’d done.

She, on the other side of the wall, irately got out of the kitchen with the trash bin and swept the berries from the table, throwing them in the garbage.

When Bucky got inside again, she was cleaning the stain of the berries from the table, her features still twisted in a frown.

He opened his mouth, trying to think of anything he could say to fix this, but nothing came out. With a sigh, he left the cottage once more, leaving her all alone.

She sat down with a huff, throwing the cloth in her hand across the room.

She let her tears run in frustration.

It was supposed to be a peaceful night where they enjoyed a delightful desert that she has worked hard on making and was going to work hard on decorating.

She was trying to start a life with him. Why did he have to ruin it like that? She wasn’t running. How could she make him believe her?

She desperately wanted, needed Bucky to trust her.

She cried harder, feeling helpless in the face of her orc’s rage as her heart clenched at the thought of a happiness gone so soon.

Part V

~

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[2crtz]

₊˚⊹ ᰔ A SLIPPED APOLOGY .

CHARACTERS: wriothesley x f!readers

WARNINGS: fluff. fighting. apologies and everything sweet. sigewinne being cute. friends to lovers. childhood friends.   SYNOPSIS: an invitation to a ball hosted by lady furina came to your doorstep, taking it as an opportunity to drag wriothesley along with you find him a wife, but he did not enjoy that idea whatsoever.

WORD COUNT: 1.938 A/N: can you guys tell i'm obsessed with a particular troupe? you'll understand at the end of the post ;)

Having a friend who constantly refuses join in activities with you was beyond annoying. He'd been like this since youth, and his unwavering habits were adding up onto your everlasting list of problems with Wriothesley.

When an invitation was sent to your family home, without another though, you began your trek to the Fortress of Meropide. Each step laced with determination, your mind set on convincing your ever-stubborn friend to join you in whatever the letter contained.

Pushing open the door, there he sat. Your graying friend leisurely sipping on his tea, surprised by your sudden appearance.

"Ah, and what pleasure do I own?" setting his porcelain cup, a familiar, teasing smirk tugged at the corners of his lips. As taunting as it is, you found it quite endearing he continued to play childish games with you.

Tossing the wax-sealed envelope onto his desk, his eyes flicker towards it. The seal was unmistakable, a hue of blue so infamous it could only belong to one unique character.

"You got a letter from the Archon. So what?" he dismissed the importance of the letter as he lazily laid back into his seat. The way he went about it so casually left you wondering that the Archon was a frequent sender of his.

"Open it, Wrio." you crossed your arms over you chest.

The seal was already broken, its contents not a surprise to you. As you prepared yourself for an inevitable rejection, your gaze was sharp, studying his every movement.

Wriothesley exhaled a weary sigh before retrieving the letter. As he skimmed through the words, inspecting each part with precision, he could only laugh before discarding it.

"If you honestly believe I would go to a ball, of all places, you are sorely mistaken." his tone laced with dry amusement.

"Wriothesley," you began, your voice softening, holding a weight it lacked when you first arrived. "It is time for you to enter a new chapter in your life."

Your friend could not help himself but to roll his eyes. "And you think the Fortress of Meropide will be beneficial for both me and my "wife". What a joke."

A losing fight you have declared. Yet, that did not stop you from trying. Watching Wriothesley go on his days in solidarity, surrounding himself with the steel walls of the prison was a lonely sight.

"It's because I care for you." you replied, holding up your ground, unwilling to raise the white flag.

"Then stop caring." he retorted sharply. "All you ever do it point out my flaws that I do not care for fixing."

You scoffed, not understanding why he won't listen to you. "You cannot just spend the rest of your life in solitude, refusing to open up for someone."

Wriothesley rose from his seat, palms slamming hard onto his desk with such force his paperwork and books shifted, his tea nearly spilling over. "For gods sake, stop pestering me with these fairytales you refuse to let go of!"

His shouting caused you to flinch, sending a shiver down your spine.

"Just because you were raised in a wealthy family and had everything handed to you on a silver platter does not mean you can bother me." he spat, words sharp with bitterness.

Watching him grow angry at you was entirely unfamiliar to you. Your tongue begged to retort, however you were incapable of producing sound. You were left speechless, caught in his wind of fury.

Without missing a beat, you quickly left his office and back onto the surface.

Why was it that every time you tried to be helpful, push him towards being a better person, he always brushed it off? How can he just accept the fact that he will end up alone, locked away in the Fortress of Meropide?

The questions remained in your mind, forever being unanswered.

────

Wriothesley hadn't intended to shout at you, but your never-ending questions had worn him thin. He did not understand why you wouldn't stop bothering him about finding love, why it mattered so much to you?

He never asked you to carry that burden of constantly worrying about him.

"Fuck," he sighed, reclining back into his seat, hands rubbing his face. He understands that you only care about him, but damn, it really annoyed him. The frequent concern, the never-ending push to change.

"I should probably apologize," he spoke to himself, voice muffling in his hands.

────

The night of the ball arrived, but you still felt the lingering aftershocks of your fight with Wriothesley. Days have passed since you've last seen him, and the ache in your heart only deepened.

On the days you didn't meet with him, he exchanged letters with you, brief summaries of his day, keeping you informed with changes within the prison. Yet, none have been sent, a silent reminder that you went too far in your pushing.

The words slipped from your tongue quietly, an admission that weighed you down. "I need to apologize to Wriothesley."

You knew you had to make things right between you, but the thought of facing him after scaring you off, shattering the walls he kept restrained for a long time, filled you with anxiety.

What if he didn't accept your apology?

A shaky breath escaped your lips as you looked down onto the delicate jewelry in your hand, ready to be put on. A symbol of what Wriothesley had said, his voice echoing in your mind, that everything had been handed to you on a silver platter.

Ashamed, you placed the piece of jewelry into it's container, closing it with a quiet snap. With one final glance on your dress and jewelry, you had to fix this, no matter how difficult it will be.

Without hesitation, you felt your feet move.

────

Wriothesley adjusted the cuffs of his sleeve, positioning them nicely around his wrist. He didn't know why he is going to the ball-- no, he knows why. It is to apologize to you after days of deciding.

Perhaps seeing him there will prove to you that he does listen to you, that he understand why you push him towards greatness. It was his way of showing you that, despite his stubborn head, he was trying to bridge the gap between you and him.

Maybe, for a slight moment, you would catch a glimpse of the Wriothesley you had always believed was hidden beneath the surface. One who was listening, one who cared.

In truth, Wriothesley was doing this because he missed you more than he'd ever admit. It was torture not speaking to you, not writing to you, not being near your presence. He needed you to survive, act as his anchor-- as dramatic as that sounds.

If he didn't care, he wouldn't go through such lengths for a ordinary person, but for you, he'd walk on Natlan's lava barefoot just to protect the soles of your feet.

────

You ran up the steps, heart pounding in your chest, each step echoing your urgency. You pushed the heavy doors leading in Wriothesley's office, calling his name.

But as the door swung open, the room before you deprived of his presences. The air hung thick with his absence.

"Are you looking for Wriothesley?" a soft, child-like voice came from behind you, standing in the doorway. Sigewinne gaze fixed on you, a hint of concern in her eyes. She could see the look etched in your face, one that she noted down as disappointment.

Nodding you head slowly. "Yes." it was clear you were upset about missing your friend.

"He just left to the surface, something about attending an event." Sigewinne's hand rubbed her face as she tried to recall where exactly Wriothesley's had gone.

Your eyes widened as she ended her sentence. "The ball?!" you exclaimed.

Sigewinne, with a sudden snap of her fingers, nodded. "Yes! It's strange. He does not usually attend in those gatherings," she spoke softly, pondering the unusual turn of events.

Without a second thought, you hurriedly made your way home, slipping on your dress and jewelry. The realization struck you in awe. He truly was at the ball, and it was for you! Never, in your decade and a half of your friendship, had you ever imagined seeing Wriothesley grace such an event.

────

Wriothesley was well aware why he'd always avoided events. It was nothing but a dating pool for unmarried men and women. The sight was sickly, almost nauseating-- though, perhaps, that sour feeling was from the alcohol.

His eyes scoured through the sea of people, scanning each face in the crowds, his gaze sharp and attentive. Yet, despite his search, his efforts were met with failure. He could not find you.

Perhaps you were engaged in conversations with men, and the thought caused his blood to boil. The mere image of other suitors admiring you, swoon you with their words, might ignite the room from the flames of his fury.

As he seized another glass of alcohol from the tray of a passing servant, the murmurs around him grew louder, the guests' attention drawn to the top of the grand staircase.

There, fitted in the most beautiful gown, was you. Standing over the people as if you were their goddess, answering the silent prayers around you. Wriothesley set his glass down, eyes locked on your being descending the staircase, each step capturing his heart.

Wriothesley watched as your eyes scanned the crowd, searching through the sea of guests as if you were looking for something-- or perhaps, someone.

The moment your gaze met his, you made your way towards him in purposeful strides, your eyes locked onto his sea of blue, your voice tinged with both frustration and relief. "I ran around the world searching for you."

A humorous smile threatening to appear on Wriothesley's lips when you spoke. "Really?" his voice laced with amusement.

"My world consists of the Fortress of Meropide, so yes, really." you replied.

Once noticing the determined look in your eyes, Wriothesley gaze softened, a rare vulnerability flickering in his expression. "I came to apologize," he confessed, voice laced with sincerity. "To show you that your words hold meaning, and that they haven't fallen on deaf ears."

"I also apologize for constantly forcing you in a position you clearly have no interest in," it was difficult maintaining eye contact with him, shame swelling within you. "I miss you, Wriothesley." you whispered, words hanging between you both.

Not caring for the eyes of others, he gently cupped your face in his hands, tenderly and reassuringly. "I've missed you too," he murmured, his voice low and filled with sincerity.

"Wriothesley--"

"Marry me."

His words hit you like a thunderclap, leaving you stunned momentarily. Your eyes widened, unable to grasp on his unexpected proposal.

"What?" you could not mask your surprise.

"I cannot imagine myself marrying anyone else," he confessed, his tone steady. "All the times you asked me about marriage, only you comes to mind. The thought of you entertaining other men stirs something in me, a jealousy that consumes me whole."

Not understanding the grasps of his words, your knees buckled beneath you, threatening to give out as the rush of emotions overwhelmed your senses.

"I should have never raised my voice at you, and I intent on making it up to you, now and for as long as I live." his hands never leaving your face. "So please, do me the highest honor and marry me."

Without a second thought, you nodded eagerly, the words tumbling from your lips with no effort.

"Yes--" you breathed, heart pounding. "Yes, of course, Wrio."

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