#being a woman is masking all day to the best of your ability n then breaking down in the shower

[bitchdafuqyousay]

i’m so tired

[cherthegoddess]

His Sunshine

Summary: Who knew a girl with such bright waves could catch the storminess of Bucky's eyes.

Pairing: BuckyxSuperhero!Reader

Warnings: This was written with a black reader in mind, but anyone can read it.

Word Count: 3.1k

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A/N: Heyyy everyone and welcome to my very first One-Shot! I really hope you enjoy it. I'm super excited for everyone to read it! Thank you so much to @novanitee for the dividers!

His Sunshine

Bucky was already exhausted from the day and it was barely 11. He did his early morning run with Steve and Sam. He tried to avoid Tony to the best of his ability. Got unfortunately caught, with that one Parker kid. And now some alien losers decided that today was a fantastic day to try to invade the Earth for whatever reason. He just wanted to return to his bed, read some books, and be away from everyone, but luck was not on his side. He dodged the punches being thrown his way landing a few with his metal one. There just seemed to be too many. He watched as Steve killed one with a few more coming behind him. Bucky ran to help him swiftly getting away from the debris of the battle. He pulled a gun out of his holster when he knew he wouldn’t get there in time, killing two and alarming Steve of their presence. He fought back-to-back with Steve. This battle wouldn’t be over for hours. Every time they killed one another popped up and every Avenger they could gather was there. 

Not long after the brush of defeat was starting to come into the air, a few of the aliens were screaming in pain from suddenly being lit on fire, others having branches growing out of their noses. The UFO that was in the air was being broken down piece by piece. The Avengers searched for their unknown hero. “Heyy guys sorry I’m late” Their heads quickly turned to the sky looking at the woman in the air wearing all blue, her identity hidden with a mask. The woman salutes before finishing off the rest of the aliens with bursts of fire, winds, and poor plants that have seen the back and front ends of the aliens. Bucky watched in awe with the others at her speed and effectiveness, all while not even lifting a finger. The others gathered in a small huddle and the woman began to finally hit the ground in front of them. “Whew! Those aliens were really something huh?” Their eyes train behind her as the city begins to rebuild itself. The woman looks behind her to see what they are staring at. “How in the…” She laughs. Waving her hand. “Oh, that’s me! Just doing a little cleanup!” Bucky looks at Steve confused, Steve shrugs his shoulders in response before stepping up. “Ma’am, who are you and where did you come from?” The woman grins. “Oh, my god. The Captain America is talking to me! Sorry, who am I, was your first question right? I’m Y/n. I don’t  exactly have a cool superhero name yet. I didn’t realize how hard it would be to pick one, especially with two powers, you gotta honor both. Sorry, I’m rambling! Second question, I’m from Harlem born and bred. I was actually building up the courage to come to tell you guys about me and hopefully become an Avenger, but then you know aliens! Now I’m here!” The woman, who long-windedly, explained her name to be Y/n finally finished with a proud grin on her face. “Okay, Scrappy doo, how did you do all of this?” Tony motions to the buildings that were freshly repaired. “I would love to explain, but repairing buildings and fighting aliens is kind of a draining task, is it possible we could go to the tower? I can explain everything there especially if you want to test me to see all the cool things I can do as well?” They eyed each other, Bucky more weary of Y/n. She was too… nice. Too happy even after being in the face of danger. And even more worrisome, she was powerful. “Fine, kid, but you have to stay by Barnes’ side until we get there, we don’t trust you quite yet,” Bucky’s eyes shoot to Tony glaring harshly even after Steve places a hand on him so he doesn’t say anything. Y/n’s eyes for the first time since her appearance, meet his, she grins and waves. She makes her way over to him. He rolls his eyes at her cheeriness. Tony tells F.R.I.D.A.Y to send a quadjet. 

“I’ve never seen anything like this! An Elementalist and you’re telekinetic! People should definitely be scared of you, Scrapy!” Tony exclaimed after running a physical on Y/n. Bucky, Steve, and Nat were watching from a window, while Peter, Tony, and Bruce were in the room with her. “Yeah! How did you get your powers, Y/n?” As she began explaining her story about how she got her powers, (which she got after almost drowning in a lake full of alien artifacts) Bucky still had a sour look on his face. “What’s wrong pal?” Steve asked. “I don’t know, man. I just don’t trust her. She comes out of nowhere with all these powers. And her happiness and all that positivity. No one‘s that good.” Bucky grumbles out. “Bucky, not everyone is after us. She literally saved us all,” Bucky watched as Nat rolled her eyes at him. He shook his head. It was just something about her that he couldn’t put his finger on. She was just pure sunshine but he could see clouds behind her eyes. 

It had been 4 weeks since Y/n had moved into the tower. 4 weeks of everyone saying how much they loved her, 4 weeks of her constant humming and singing, 4 weeks of Bucky avoiding her as much as possible. Every room that she was in he left, and every word spoken to him by her was ignored. He watched from afar as everyone enjoyed her company as he isolated himself even more from her. No matter how much he enjoyed looking at her he couldn’t find himself to get close to her. 

“Peter! I will not shoot ice at you to see if you could dodge it! You will not have Tony or Aunt May breathing down my neck if you get hurt!” Peter and Y/n got close when she arrived. She was about 4-5 years older than him and she treated him like a little brother. Bucky, however, teased Peter (even more than usual) about him flirting with Y/n. “Y/n/n, I promiseee, I’ll be okay! Plus I heal fast!” Peter exclaimed. Bucky sighed as he realized that he had to walk past the two in the living room to get to his destination of Steve’s room. Bucky begins to walk swiftly. Peter notices realization hitting his eyes. “I train with Bucky all the time! You can just ask him!” Bucky groans internally the two looking at him for confirmation. “Kid leave me out of your drama” The storm in Y/n’s eyes began to brew in disappointment. An urge to make that sunshine come back. He sighs, “Don’t throw ice at the kid, he bruises easily,” He turns and continues on his journey, not before hearing her whisper. “Peter, I can’t believe he actually talked to me! Maybe he’d finally give me a chance!” He rolls his eyes and knocks on Steve’s door. 

Fury finally let Y/n go on missions 5 months into her stay. It was her fourth mission and of course, Bucky was the one who was a part of the team that would go with her. He had successfully avoided joining her until now. Luckily everything was going well, for the most part, a simple infiltration of one of Hydra’s bases by getting information from their computers. They had all split up and somehow Y/n ended up paired with Bucky. He guessed it was some sort of plan from Steve to get the two closer. Y/n was surprisingly very tech-savvy and was placed in charge of hacking the first computer to make it easier for Nat and Steve to get access to the others. It was easy until it wasn’t. Everything happened so fast and she was distracted and Bucky so stupidly wanted to keep as much distance as possible from her rays. So before he could get to her a shot ran out hitting her side and making her fall to the ground. Bucky ran quickly the Hydra agents getting wrapped in vines in response to Y/n’s pain. Bucky called into his comms for help, his hands on the wound. “Y/n, Sunshine can you get up?” His voice was soft surprising even himself. “Yeah, yeah, I just need to- grow some vines to keep myself alive. I think that’s all I can get my powers to do right now.” her voice is breathy and light. “Okay Sunshine, I got you.” Bucky watched as Y/n begin to grow vines around her body protecting it from any harm she may face. Her light eyes began to close, Bucky picking her vine-covered body when he saw Steve and Nat rushing their way. “Is she okay? What’s going on?” Bucky held her close. “She covered herself in vines to protect herself. I should’ve been protecting her” Bucky said with a whisper. Nat and Steve look at Bucky and then at each other. “She’s going to be okay Bucky. This isn’t your fault. We need to get to the quadjet before more come.” Bucky didn’t say a word but made his way to the door. 

Bucky didn’t leave her side not once since they got back to the tower. He watched closely as they took her out of his arms and into surgery. He was there every step of the way. Something clicked for him. All of his distrust dissipated the second the bullet pierced her skin. He promised himself from that day forward he would always protect her. It had been a week since he saw the sunshine that was slightly covered by storm clouds. He would sit as everyone came to check on her, bringing her favorite flowers and teddy bears. The shot was almost fatal but luckily Y/n’s vines did some of the healing for her. Chamomile and echinacea grew around her wound. The doctors promised that she would wake up soon but even with that promise Bucky stayed. 

Bucky squeezed her soft hand. “Sunshine you gotta wake up for me. I miss your eyes. Everyone misses you. Please come back to us, to me.” He whispers to her. He sighs when she doesn’t move. He gets comfortable in his chair again and begins to hum You Are the Sunshine of My Life by Stevie Wonder, a song that he heard Sam and Y/n singing the other week. He didn’t tell anyone but he had the song on repeat for weeks and it reminded him of her. “I didn’t know, you like Stevie Wonder,” Bucky’s closed eyes popped open at the sign of her voice. He took over to her laying form to see Y/n’s smile and bright eyes. “Hey Bucky,” He had to hold himself back from hugging. “Hey. Are you alright? Do you need some water? I’ll go-” An angelic laugh broke his rambling. “I’m okay, Buck. I promise.” Before he could say anything else Dr. Chen entered. “I knew I heard a familiar voice in here. How are you Y/n?” She gave the same response she told Bucky. “That’s good, hopefully now that you’re up, Bucky will leave and go take a shower for the first time in a week.” Dr. Chen laughed. Bucky’s eyes downcasted. “I’ll leave you guys to it. I’ll be back after your check-up,” He left the room swiftly, heading to take a shower. He was so relieved that she was up. He had never seen her eyes shine so bright. 

Ever since Y/n woke up his and her relationship had taken a complete 180. They hung out all the time, had *platonic* reading dates, and watched all the movies that Bucky had yet to see. Everyone was shocked to see Bucky’s complete change in mood. It had been 3 months since Y/n fully recovered, and it was almost time for Tony’s annual Christmas pajama party. He had never seen Y/n more excited in his life. She loved Christmas. She explained that it was because she lost all of her family, and Bucky found out why all the clouds were there. There was also something else that he learned while being with her, that he was slowly falling in love with her. Steve tried many times to get him to tell her. But Bucky convinced himself that no one that bright could possibly like him back let alone love him. Little did he know she did. 

He was waiting on the couch with Tony, Steve, Vision, Peter, Thor, Clint, Sam, and Pepper when he heard a series of giggles come rushing into the room. There was his Sunshine burning brighter than ever. Y/n was adorable in a bright yellow bear onesie which she somehow convinced everyone else to participate in. He ended up being a cloudy one which got some teasing from Sam, but he didn’t care because it got her to smile. Y/n plopped herself right next to Bucky where he had a cup of hot cocoa with extra marshmallows waiting for her. “Thanks, Buck!” She said with a kiss on his cheek. Over time it became a habit of her that Bucky couldn’t complain about. Tony stood up when everyone sat down. “Now that everyone is here, let the fun and festivities begin,” Tony said with a clap and everyone cheered. “Our first activity is a gingerbread building contest. Get into pairs and may the best team win,” Bucky and Y/n of course paired up, and they almost won the contest but Vision and Wanda cheated by using their powers.

They also did hide and seek which Y/n won, they decorated the tree, did some Christmas karaoke and now finally they were doing some drinking and talking well until Tony spoke up. “I have a game for us to play… 7 minutes in Heaven!” A few people groaned. “Tony isn’t that a bit childish,” Steve asked. Tony winked at him. “Yes it is but it’s also fun. So everyone writes their name on a piece of paper and then you’ll pick a name, and then heaven!” Tony exclaimed. Everyone sighed but did it anyways. Tony took two of his old helmets (one for boys and one for girls) and moved them around the room as they placed their papers in. Tony shook the helmets to mix the names. Everyone grabbed a name except Clint and Sam. Bucky’s widened in shock when he saw his person. Y/n, his sunshine. He looked at Y/n to see her reaction and there was a smile on her face. Disappointment crossed his mind, she liked someone else. Who could it be? Probably that Spiderkid. He thought. The first to go was Thor who picked Nat. They were both slightly disheveled after they left the room. Nat got Steve, Steve got Wanda, Wanda got Vision, Vision got Pepper who did absolutely nothing with a threat from Tony, Pepper got Tony, Tony got Carol Tony got threatened by Pepper, and Carol got Peter who was shaking and nervous before he entered.

Bucky and Y/n were the only ones to not get anything. “Since Peter also got Carol that means, Bucky and Y/n got each other,” Nat said excitedly. Everyone had a knowing grin on their face as Y/n pulled him up into the closet. Before Bucky could fully close the door, Steve mouthed ‘Tell her’. He shook his head. Some string lights were hanging around the room so each person could have some light. Tony yelled that he started the timer. “So,” They said at the same time after a moment of silence. They both laugh quietly. “You go first,” Bucky said. He could tell that she was nervous as she played with a loose string of her onesie. “Bucky, I-” Bucky began to worry. “We don’t have to do anything that you don’t want to Sunshine.” She sighed finally looking him in the eyes. “Bucky it’s not that. I just have something to tell you.” Bucky nodded his head hope slightly filling him. “Bucky, I like you. And I have since I’ve shown up here, but you avoided me when I first got here, so I figured there was no way that you could possibly like me back, but then the whole me getting shot thing happened. And you actually started showing interest in me, but I thought it was just because I was hurt, no matter how much Nat, Wanda, and Peter tried to convince me. There’s no way someone as wonderful as you could like me. You’re literally perfect, Buck. I-” Her words fell flat when Bucky covered her lips with hers. He could feel her shock before she settled into the kiss. She pulled back slightly “I guess I was completely wrong huh?” she said teasingly, her lips now slightly bruised from the kiss. “You couldn’t have been more wrong Sunshine. I’m not the perfect one it’s you. I didn’t think you could ever love someone like me. I’ve literally killed people, Sunshine.” Bucky shook his head before she could protest. “Y/n I’m so sorry for how I treated you when you got here. I’ve never met someone who brought so much light before and I was scared. I like you too, Y/n and you’ll never have to doubt that ever again, Sunshine.” She grinned before kissing him again deeper and longer this time. After a while, they were interrupted by a knock. “Okay lovebirds, time to get out! We even gave you guys an extra minute” They pulled away quickly when they heard the door begin to open. A few whoops and cheers followed when they saw their warm faces. “So who made the first move?” Tony asked. Y/n hid in Bucky’s shoulder as a few people groaned. “Y/n/n, you were supposed to let the old man tell you first ‘cause he’s old fashioned,” Nat said with a groan sliding Tony, Steve, and Wanda $100. Sam and Clint doing the same. “You guys did not bet on us!” Y/n exclaimed. Tony shrugged, “What can I say? I believe in you, Y/n.” The group laughed as Y/n playfully shot water at them all. Bucky kissed her head. 

The group turned on Home Alone after a while of teasing Bucky and Y/n and drinking spiked hot cocoa. Y/n was cuddled up on his side giggling as one of the bad guys got hit with an iron. He wasn’t watching the movie at all he was watching her. He kissed her forehead, snuggling closer to her. “My Sunshine” 

Fin

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[igotanidea]

Jealousy : Gar Logan x reader x Conner Kent

When Dick’s lie about Jericho was exposed.

When everything crumbled down.

When Titans fell apart. (again)

When everyone left the tower.

Gar was left completely alone with unconscious Conner, trying his best to keep his head up, just like Dick said.

It worked for two days.

After that, Gar had no motivation left in him and was just trailing around the rooms, hoping someone, anyone would come back. His wish was soon granted as at first Connor wake up. Of course, it was never intention Beast Boy intention to see Superboy in all his naked glory but still, it was uplifting to have another soul to talk to. And a day later, one of the younger titans Y/N came back to tower. In her own words, it was her home and she would never feel good anywhere else. She was shyly standing by the kitchen counter while explaining this and both boys watched her with enamored expression. She did not know but despite the fact that they already made friends none of them would let the other win her over. Y/N was strong herself, given her air powers, but both Gar and Conner felt sudden urge to protect her and be by her side through all the good and bad.

They were about to have a chance.

The same organization that produced Conner busted through the tower’s window trying to get the boy back. With glass shattered everywhere, armed men surrounding the titans and guns pointed towards their heads they really had no place to run. Luthor’s organization were more than happy to realize than instead of getting one enhanced human, they get to capture three. At first, however they really had to capture them. In order to do so, they shoot some sedative towards Gar just right after he turned into a tiger.

“NO!” Y/N yelled covering him in her best attempt to swing the bullet around with a heavy blirt and failing miserably, getting shot in effect. A dose aimed at the muscular animal was a bit too much for a human and it made her loose conscience almost immediately.

“Y/N!” despite being poisoned with Cryptonite Connor made it to the girl in time to prevent her from hitting the floor. Now, all three teenagers were weakened, unable to fight and too much of an easy target.

“What are we going to do with them? I mean, we wanted Superboy and now….” One of the masked man turned towards the dark haired woman who was clearly the leader of the operation.

“You’ll see soon enough.” She smiled devilishy as her gaze lingered over the unconscious girl, hurt and bleeding Gar and coughing Conner.

***

After a series of heavy experiments on boys, Y/N was finally let out of her room cage. For the past two days Luthor’s scientists were messing with their heads, trying to reprogram their abilities to Lex’s whims only to be used in a battle against each other.  Y/N was forced to watch Gar turn into a wild, predatory animal without his own control and hurt and kill people. Just because of some music. All the tears she cried while watching the scene could never fully reflect the pain inside. Gar was her friend and it killed her to sit with him in silence when his consciousness came back and he realized what he had done.

“Gar….” She whispered after the incident at the coffee shop gently grabbing his hands. He did not answer, just kept looking on the floor. “It’s gonna be ok, it’s gonna be ok….” She kept repeating even if she herself did not believe it.

“Y/N. I’m so sorry, you have to go through this…..”

“What? Me? Gar, are you insane? You are the most harmed one here. I…. I’m nothing” she shook her head.

“You are not nothing Y/N. I care about you, all right. More than…..” he started

“None of this is your fault, remember that. We are just being used. All three of us.” The tears were flowing freely down her face and Gar could not resist gently wiping them away. Seeing her cry was just breaking his heart.

“Y/N…. I need to tell you something. Not the perfect timing, but I…..”

“Ok, you two, that’s enough” the same dark haired women as always jumped into the car. “We are only getting started with all the fun. You, Gar, need some rest after such well done job, and as for you miss Y/N, we got one more show for you.”

“You can’t ….”

“Oh, Mr. Logan” the woman pouted “you should know better by now. We can. And we most definitely will.”

If only he wasn’t so tired and so blue he would fight for her, but it was simply too much.

***

“More show” meant that Y/N was now standing in front of a glass wall, watching brainwashed Conner complying with the commands of the woman in a robot-like manner. He wasn’t himself anymore. Those beast of a people turned him into a puppet, becoming a product to be shown to and bought by similar cutthroat moneybags, who would offer the biggest amount of money for him. When the connection between the potential bidders were cut, the only thing Conner was to do was…..”

“No…” Y/N whispered “No, Conner, please don’t….” she put a hand on the cold glass, trying to stop him from killing one of the unfomfortable workers, knowing well enough it won’t work. To her surprise, Conner with his superhearing turned towards her. Just like Gar’s his eyes conveyed so much pain, fear and anger. He looked straight at the girl and his eyes glistened upon seeing her so fragile, broken and mistreated. He was about to run straight towards her, hold her tight to his chest and get the hell out of here, but before he could act on that, the woman pressed a button on some strange electronic device and he was back to the robot mode. No hesitation and no mercy in his action as he put a gun to the other’s man head and shot him, leaving another scar on girl’s psyche.

***

Bloody battle was supposed to be the last straw in breaking the teenagers. It did not go according to the plan. Before the show and money raise could even start, the Titans showed up at the fun fair saving the day. Rachel saved Gar, helping him getting back in control of his shapeshifting skills, Kori, Donna and Dawn with a little help from Dick and Rachel dealt with Conner and as it was done, Dick retrieved Y/N from the kidnapper’s claws.  Gar and Y/N were almost shaking while Superboy was just standing in the middle of the ground assessing the damage. And everything would be fine if it wasn’t for the fact that Donna sacrificed herself and died, crushed by the power pole. Y/N could not stand it anymore as she fell to the ground sobbing and screaming, not caring how much of a freak she was making out of herself. Gar immediately crouched next to her, holding her tightly, reassuringly, just like she did so many times during his captivity. Caressing her back, he helped her up not letting go even for a second. Beast boy was doing everything in his power to make her feel taken care of, help her thought that feeling of emptiness, unfairness and guilt. The truth was, he felt exactly the same and the way Y/N was clinging to him brought him a bit of so much needed comfort. Having her so close only made his love for the girl and the urge to keep her safe stronger.

“It’s gonna be ok, Y/N. You have me.” He whispered holding her closer and not noticing Conner’s sideway glances. Or maybe choosing not to see them.  

***

The team was back together. Almost because Wonder girl was gone leaving everyone with a hole in their chests. Ironically, this brought Gar and Y/N closer than ever since apart from Dick, Donna was always their role model. After few days, more often than less those two could easily be found talking and laughing in the kitchen or playing video games together. They really did grow closer and truly Gar was gathering courage to confess how much he fell for her.

“Y/N” she was standing in front of the huge window looking at the street, her e/c orbs scanning every little detail of the evens happening outside. When she heard Gar’s voice she turned around and the most beautiful smile lightened her face and made his knees buckle.

“Hi Gar. What’s up?”

“I… I need to tell you something, but…. If that’s bad moment….”

“No. Not at all. I actually got some free time. Dick is cutting  me some slack with the training since … you know, last events. I wanted to train, but he was insisting that I rest. Quite suspicious, so I think…..”

“I lo….” beast boy was about to blurt out when out of nowhere Conner rushed into the room. Damn the enhanced speed and hearing.

“Y/N!” Superboy yelled. “Can we talk?”

“Like now?” she frowned “Gar was just about to say something, so…”

“YES! Sorry, I mean, yes, I need to talk to you now. It’s urgent.”

“I bet it is” Gar muttered crossing his arms knowing well enough what and why Conner was doing. “But I was here first. So a minute of wait would not damage you.”

“Oh, I think it will. And it is not the matter of priority.”

“You sure about that” Gar tilted his head “you don’t seem convinced.”

“what are you suggesting?” Conner took a step closer to the other boy.

“Nothing.” Gar shrugged “Are you suggesting something?”

“Um…. Guys?” Y/N tried to interrupt them before those started throwing fists.

“She’s not a possession!”

“Look who’s talking. You are simply scared she would choose me over you!”

“Liar!”

“Coward!”

“Gyus!” the girl yelled and this time get their full attention “what is wrong with you two. You are friends, remember. And if this is about me, which I can guess is, you better get me out of your heads. You are both acting like kids. I’m out. Don’t follow me!” she turned on her heels and walked out of the room almost ramming Rachel, who’s eyes widened and who took one glance at the boys and quickly followed Y/N.

“What happened?” she asked her friend who was circling the room in frustration.

“Boys are idiots, that’s what happened!”

“Um… that’s obvious. You will have to be more specific about the situation.”

“Those two dumbasses fell in love with me. BOTH OF THEM!”

“Oh.”

“Really, Rach? Oh? What do I do now?”  

to be continued? (let me know if you want part 2 of this)

[ofdieus]

‘ madeleine madden, cis woman, she/her, 27 (200), fae ’ ― cauldron save you. it seems ARWEN STRAIN has finally made it to the capital, the SEER from the SUMMER COURT is said to be ELOQUENT and is said to describe themselves with LIGHTING A CANDLE IN THE DARKNESS, ALWAYS A FEW STEPS AHEAD AS THOUGH BEING CHASED BY GHOSTS, THE DRIVE FOR PERFECTION, SPLINTER OF YOUR SOUL CUTTING THROUGH YOUR SKIN & SILK GLOVES HIDING SILVER SCARS and with all of this in mind their RETICENT nature always seems to get them into trouble. may the mother hold them as they navigate this unthinkable time.

GENERAL DETAILS.

full name: arwen celest strain nickname(s): ari (anyone can call her this) date of birth: july 10 zodiac: cancer sun, gemini moon, pisces rising gender & pronouns: cis woman ( she / her ) species: fae (seer) place of birth: day court orientation: bisexual, biromantic occupation: seer for the high lady of the summer court

PHYSICAL, ETC.

faceclaim: madeleine madden hair colour & style: here clothing style: here distinguishing characteristics: scars across her hands and wrists she covers with gloves piercing(s) & tattoo(s): lobes

PERSONALITY.

positive trait(s): eloquent, affable, conscientious negative trait(s): reticent, brazen, finicky like(s): swimming, sun-bathing, walking/hiking, music dislike(s): cold weather, sailing/boats, birds hobbie(s): tarot reading, researching, baking, singing/playing violin character inspiration: gwyn berdara (acotar), elain archeron (acotar), bonnie bennet (vampire diaries), willow rosenberg (buffy the vampire slayer)

FAMILY, RELATIONSHIPS, ETC.

mother: iris strain (estranged) father: alaric strain (estranged) sibling(s): n/a significant other: n/a

BACKGROUND.

biography trigger(s): abandonment, mentions of depression, mention of an accident/burning/self harm, insomnia

Arwen didn't imagine her life would be like this. She was a happy child, she had parents who loved her and she loved learning. She was sure she would become an priestess in her home court but that's not how things played out.

After she turned twenty, she started to experience vivid dreams. She would wake up in a sweat, screaming out nothings. Her parents were so scared of her that after the first few months, they stopped checking on her. After six months, they decided to seek help regarding her dreams and her visions. Arwen knew her parents wanted the best for her but the truth was, the help was masked in fear. They offered her up to the priestesses and the ruling family of the day court, all who was curious about her abilities and how far they could go.

For the next one hundred years, Arwen honed her practice and was able to really advance her abilities as a seer. Although she worked in her home court with the priestesses and the ruling family, she was incredibly lonely. She started to slip into a depression due to feeling like she was only of value for her abilities. Especially with the estranged relationship with her parents, Arwen started to really feel the pressure and the slight feeling of resentment towards the entire court.

she started to attempt to draw attention to herself, just so she could feel something other than the negative emotions that were overtaking her mind. Arwen started to wander at night when she couldn't sleep, carrying a candle with her.

One night after two weeks of not sleeping, she must have misstepped in the hallway, attempting to grab onto the open flame. The burns were horrible and she could still hear her screams when she went to sleep. She knew then that it was time for her to leave the day court.

After realizing that her abilities were rare, Arwen set off to one of the seasonal courts. Summer was her first choice and she was immediately met with an immense amount of joy when she moved. The time she spent outside were some of her most cherished moments. Additionally, Arwen started to make friends not just who saw her as a seer but as a person.

HEADCANONS.

arwen loves her time in the summer court and since she moved her 90ish years ago and feels like she could live the rest of her life in this court

she appreciates the down time she gets but she knows she has responsibility as the seer for the high lady

arwen loves music but doesnt tell a lot of people because she likes to keep that hobby to herself mostly

arwen knows that the high lady relies on her a great amount and instead of feeling a high level of pressure she used to feel in her home court, arwen feels a great deal of pride since she had to make it here on her own

[theoddshq]

ASENA MAVI (hande ercel fc) the odds are in your favor! Please report to your nearest Capitol Agent to be prepped for the 74th Annual Hunger Games!  

OOC

Alias/Age/Pronouns/Timezone: andie / 32 / she/her / EST

Triggers: [REDACTED]

If you had to describe your muse as a canon Hunger Games character, or mix, who would you compare them to and why?: boggs; she’s calm on the outside but doesn’t trust the people in charge, securing her position by being competent and making herself valuable and trustworthy. She knows more than she lets on and subtly protects others to the best of her ability.

Anything else? n/a

BASICS

[HANDE ERCEL, CIS WOMAN, SHE/HER] The 74th Annual Hunger Games are upon us and here comes [ASENA MAVI], a [MENTOR]. Word around The Capitol is that they’re [IMPOSING & DAUNTLESS] but can also be [RETICENT & STEELY ]. According to sources, they’re [TWENTY-NINE] and were once described as [THE DISTANT RUMBLE OF A THREATENING STORM, THE CRUSH OF YOUR LUNGS WHEN YOU HOLD YOUR BREATH, THORNS ON ROSES, A CONTROLLED CONFIDENCE THAT MASKS ANGER, THE WHISTLE OF THE WIND THROUGH THE TREES, LOOKING IN THE MIRROR AND SEEING A STRANGER]. What a character! As we always say, may the odds be ever in their favor!

BIOGRAPHY

Asena was orphaned at birth and taken in by a couple that had six children already, they were pressured by the midwife to do this because the father had gotten the woman pregnant so asena was his child by blood but while they took her in she was unfairly rejected by the family as a whole and especially by the mother. She was treated poorly and given less of everything the family had including food. When she was very young she sought their care and approval, she expected to be taken care of but she learned quickly not to seek it in her own household and she got used to deprivation and being treated with bitterness and distrust. 

Seeking what she was missing outside her home made asena resourceful, and when she couldn’t get what she needed by asking she had to resort to thievery and manipulation. Many others in the district that she tried to appeal to had nothing to spare themselves, even for a child so asena had to develop skills young so she could be considered for a job and not have to take so much tesserae. But the lack of help and care isolated her, encouraged independence and othered her in the community. For a long time she continued to try and fit in, some people were kind enough, taught her a few things and spared what little they could when they could. It was never enough but asena knew not to expect more. 

An old man she worked beside taught her how to whittle and carve little figures out of wood, she watched him do it for years, mimicking the way he moved his hands, the way he held the tiny, rusted knife. That knife became hers when the old man disappeared the day after he’d collapsed during the job. That same day asena switched from processing the wood into paper to being a climber. It was a much more difficult job, more labor intensive, more pressure and more supervision from peacekeepers. But she was good at it, fast and agile and she loved feeling the breeze in the canopies, seeing more than others did. 

At twenty-three she was still taking tesserae, she had to eat more with her new job, she had no choice but to take the help. Of course this was the folly, her doom, her name in that big glass bowl too many times. When her name was called there was no gasp, no wail from a mother already mourning their daughter. She walked calmly to the podium, kept her chin high, showed no weakness at the reaping. Only her father came to see her before she was put on the train, he pressed one of her own wood carvings into her hands, a small wolf, he told her she’d had to fight for everything her whole life and that now she should fight for a better one. She interpreted this as a release of her, that if she managed to win she shouldn’t come back to seven. 

Her games were brutal, as they all are. Her arena was a terrifying cave system, the entire time was spent in low light or complete darkness. It was a rather short games, lasting only eleven days. The cornucopia was brightly lit, disorienting but asena was sure in the moments while she stood on her podium that she had to fight for a weapon or she’d die in the dark. Running toward the melee earned her two daggers and a gift later of clean water in a glass bottle. She killed three tributes, was able to refill the bottle from dripping water on the stones in the caves and emerged the victor with an ugly slash down the right side of her face through her right eye. 

After her games she didn’t let them remove the scar left behind on her face, but she did let them fix her eye which is now a bright blue in contrast to her other which is a deep brown. She heeded her father’s words and chose to remain in the capitol, becoming a mentor with the unrealistic thought that she could redeem herself somehow by helping others survive. 

WRITING SAMPLE

[REDACTED]

STATS

Please assign a point 1-3, (1 being little to no proficiency and 3 being high proficiency) to each of the following stats! To ensure your character isn’t “overpowered” make sure that you do not assign more than 20 points for your stats overall.

Deceive -1

Fight - 3

Lore (knowledge) - 1

Notice - 3

Physique - 3

Provoke -1

Rapport - 1

Resourcefulness -3

Stealth -2

Will -2

EXTRAS

Pinterest https://open.spotify.com/playlist/6gmzG48zH5z8WQi749Js9B?si=17ad956591154827

[horrorstreet]

Frustration

Thomas Hewitt x Reader

819 words

Warnings: Blood, death, intense anger, injury

A/n: Im sorry this writing was so shitty, its late and im tired but I wanted to write some more so this and maybe the next one are going to be really short so im sorry if this was bad. </3

Request: Can I request Tommy comforting his furious S/O? Like someone just hurt them BADLY and they're angry and shaking and crying?

Request sent by: Anon

Tommy and you had been chasing a group of college kids for about half an hour now and you were getting frustrated with how long it was taking. Today was certainly not your day. The morning started off with you falling out of bed. You didn’t give it much thought till you went to eat breakfast and your milk was expired and the cereal was left with not even a bowl full left in the bag. It seemed that your luck had just run out for the day and every inconvenience that could build up on you had been, this situation being one of them. 

They had gotten away in a truck and was ramming your passenger side door until they hit a curb and nearly crashed into a tree. With no time to put it in reverse and back away, they all hopped out and tried to run in the forest that was filled with dried up, dead trees. There was nowhere for them to hide but it was obvious that no truck was going to sort out well in there. They were doing a good job in getting away and it only angered you more. You quickly hopped out of the truck despite Thomas's grunts of protest and darted off behind them. First, you went after one of the girls. Their long hair was an easy grab but she was just too fast for you. You stumbled and almost tripped numerous times but stayed on your feet the best you could.. And then you got cocky.

When you split off from the girl, you went after her friend, the other woman letting out a screech before speeding off in the other direction. You were so close to catching her, just at arms length.. Almost.. There… and then you were met with the dry, scratchy floor filled with dead branches and snapped tree stumps. The boyfriend, you assumed the man to be, came in with a good side tackle and knocked you clean off your feet. With Thomas nowhere in sight, the man quickly got down on the ground with you and pinned your waist down with his own weight before he began wailing on you with everything he had. You tried fighting back, throwing your own punches but he was far stronger and much faster than you were. He had to be an athlete of some sort, maybe in the army.. Whatever he was, he was getting close to knocking you out. You reached around you for anything you could find until your hand wrapped around a large, thick log. Your other arm was brought up defensively to try and stop the man's blows but it was doing nothing to help so you quickly swung the wood to the side of his head in one swift hit and knocked him to the floor. The attack to the man's dome continued till you decided you were done and watched as tears mixed with sweat and blood dripped onto his face.  

You weren't sure how long you had been going but it took Thomas pulling you away from the man for you to stop and you let out a sob. You shook from anger and the stinging pain of a few broken bones in your face and the scratches from the forest floor. Tommy frowned beneath his mask and pulled you close, comforting you to the best of his abilities till you were calm enough to be picked up and put back in the truck without protest. Still, you continued to cry from pure frustration at the days abuse towards you. It was just one thing after the other and this was the final straw. Thomas hauled each person to the back of his truck before getting back in and looking over at you, waiting for you to look at him. 

“I'm sorry, Thomas. I don’t know… I was just so angry and I got careless.” You explained to him with a small cry and hoarse voice. The man shook his head and placed a gentle hand on your thigh, thumb rubbing over the fabric of your pants. You let out a sigh and took a deep breath, wincing at the pain in your face that you would have to patch up somehow later and looked over at him once more before you two took off back home. “Thank you. I promise I won’t let it happen again.” You said with a sincere look in your eyes. Your boyfriend gave a grunt and shook his head, basically telling you that it was okay and nothing to worry about. As long as you were alive and breathing and not too hurt, he was alright. He had seen you in worse situations and every time, he would take care of you and comfort you with your favorite things he took mental note of throughout the years. This time was no different.

[house-of-slayterr]

Hi I’m so obsessed with your writing to the point it’s unhealthy🤤❤️ , can I ask you to do please hannibal with an s/o who has covid-19 and had to be isolated due to quarantine. But like with their friend and that friend hannibal hates and jealous of

An: Thank you for bearing with me while this took so long. It's been a crazy few weeks and I have like 6 stories I'm writing that I had to catch up on. But I adore this idea. I kinda want the whole enemy vibe with Hannibal rn, so congrats, I'm your friend now, lol

Quarantine Quarrel:

Work had been rough on you for the past couple of weeks. You'd worked yourself to the bone, and what did you get for it? Yelled at by your boss for getting sick, when it was a customer's fault in the first place. The woman refused t wear a mask, and you tried to get her to put it on, but she refused to leave. And now you were paying the price for it. You hated your job.

So now you had to stay home, which would have been fine and all, but two weeks of isolation wasn't good for anyone. But hey, at least you had your roommate. They were kind, just a little bit of a goofball. But they were sick too, so neither of you could really leave the house for necessities.

"Fang, it's too hot in here!" You whined from your bedroom.

You heard a soft chuckle as your door was pushed open.

"Well maybe if you took the fan out of the box that I got you..."

"Yeah, yeah, you were right, can you do it for me?"

"Only because I love you."

They got to work unboxing your fan and putting it together to the best of their ability. You frowned when they left the room, but they came back with a cold washcloth and placed it on your head.

"Shoot me a text when that gets warm if you want to cool off faster you can put it on the back of your neck."

"How are you so good at this?"

"Hello, you're talking to the resident sick kid, being horribly ill is kinda my only skill." They joked. "Get some rest, your not going to beat this by fighting it. And the longer you're sick with covid, the less I can hang out around you."

"I know, I miss movie night."

"Maybe if we sit on opposite ends of the living room..."

They closed the door behind them and sauntered off to their own room for a nap. You were both woken a few hours later by a gentle knock on the door. Fang watched you peek your head out of your room, and you looked miserable.

"I've got it, you just stay over there with your germs."

You stuck your tongue out at them, before breaking into a coughing fit that made them frown.

"Very mature."

"You love me and my germs." They rolled their eyes before moving to answer the door.

"Look, if you're here for Y/N, they're very sick," they stated.

Nobody ever came to the apartment for them, so it was unlikely someone would start now. They finally looked up to see who it was, but they didn't really need to. The Armani loafers were more than enough to tell them who it was.

"Hello, Hannibal."

Hannibal knew t was rude, but he chose not to acknowledge their hello, it wasn't genuine anyway.

"I am aware of that, Frances, that's why I brought soup and mediation."

He lifted the neatly packed reusable bag for emphasis. He didn't need to ask to come in, because they just stepped aside. They knew you would be mad if they slammed the door in his face. Hannibal swiftly made his way to the kitchen and began unpacking. They watched curiously.

"You know, when most people say they brought soup, they've already made it beforehand."

"It will taste better fresh, not that you know much about taste."

"At least I dont week tacky overpriced Italian loafer in someone else's house. Isn't your whole stick like, heating the rude or some bullshit, take your shoes off, my guy."

"I'm not 'your guy', I wasn't aware that was a rule Y/N cared about."

He stepped away from the food and began to take off his shoes.

"Yeah well, we're trying to cut down on outside germs. Considering you stomp around at crime scenes all day, I'm sure your shoes aren't the cleanest."

He growled under his breath at this.

"I'm quite positive I've seen William in here with his boots on."

They scoffed and left the kitchen, not wanting to be in his presence anymore. They knocked on your door and opened it when you gave a groan in response.

"Your lovesick savant is here." they teased.

Your eyes light up in a way they hadn't seen all week. You rolled your eyes.

"Hey, hey, what's with the enthusiastic get-up, you're still sick, Take it slow, I'm sure he's not leaving even if I want him to."

"Why do you hate him?" "I dont. He hates me. I'm just reciprocating."

It was your turn to let out a dry laugh.

"You, you smell like my grandmother's left toe, you go shower, He's making you soup so he'll be distracted in the kitchen."

"I do not smell that-" You took a whiff of yourself and cringed, "ok maybe I do."

"I'll toss the sheets in the wash since you now have this miraculous strength to get out of bed." they laughed.

"You're the best."

"I know. And I'll try to play nice while he's here. Our bickering might give you a headache."

"'I'd-" "Give me a hug if it weren't for my shit immune system... I know. Now go get cleaned up."

As you showered, they cleaned up the room a bit and left a glass of ice water on your nightstand. Before going back into the living room and watching Hanibal finish cooking.

"Don't suppose I'll be able to have any soup."

"It would be rude not to offer any. You're sick too after all."

"I'm always sick."

"Then consider this a special occasion."

"Oh I will don't worry, I'll take it to my room. You and Y/N will have your alone time. Though I'll tell you, they aren't as well off as they'll pretend to be. That's all for your sake."

He sighed heavily.

"I've asked them to stop doing that, it's a-" "Trauma response, I know. Nobody's friends with me unless they're a little screwy in the brain box. Try harder. I know they aren't your patient, but you do pretend to care about them."

"Do not presume I'm pretending."

They chuckled.

"Oh dear god, the doctors actually fell in love. How cute, is this whole house husband act just a glimpse into their future?"

"Why are you so bitter? Nobody ever fell in love with you?"

"I'm not your patient Doctor Lecter, do not psychoanalyse me. I'm not bitter, I'm protective. They're my only friend, and if you hurt them..." They pulled him close by the colour, "You're going to end up more deranged than one of your little victims. Because unlike you, I don't aim to kill, just maim. Like what you've been slowly doing to poor Willam over the years."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"For a manipulative bastard, you're a shit liar." They sighed. "That's how I know you love them, and I won't breathe a word of it to anyone. It would break them if they found out, at least if they weren't eased into it. But Hurt them, your little escapades as the ripper will be a distant memory."

"Noted."

You turned to the side,

"Welcome to the land of the living." You joked.

They cleaned up nice for barely having been able to keep down food the past few days. The look in Hannibal's eyes told Fang everything they needed to know. Hannibal really did love you, and it wasn't some sick obsession.

"You too kids have fun. Text me if you need anything." They excused themself.

"You look lovely." He breathed out.

"I look like road kill."

He winced at the thought of comparing you to something so lowly.

"We should eat, you'll need it to feel better."

"You always do take good care of me."

"Until the day you die mijn liefje"

He kissed the top of your head, not caring one bit if he got sick. You were worth it in his eyes. Hannibal would do anything you asked of him, even stop killing if it came down to it. All he needed was you, to fill that void he'd be endlessly trying to fill forever.

Dutch: My Sweetheart

[averagewriter-inthedark]

Quiet As A Cat | Spider-Man No Way Home Series P.1

Contains spoilers for Spider-Man No Way Home

Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist

Pairings: Tobey!Spider-Man x female!Reader Black Cat (Romantic) , Andrew!Spider-Man (Platonic/flirtatious), Tom!Spider-Man (Platonic), Michele Jones-Watson (Platonic), Ned Leeds (Platonic). Dr. Otto Octavious (Platonic/Flirtatious).

Black Cat theme from the PS4 game (highly recommend listening whenever y/n is in a scene)

Warnings: Profanity, mentions of violence, banter. She/her pronouns.

Chapter One Premise: On the hunt for multiversal beings that were pulled into his universe after a botched spell gone wrong, young Peter Parker falls into a game of cat & mouse when a woman in black with a grappling hook manages to escape his every move.

_________

Living two different lives had it’s complications, and for young Peter Parker of Queens that was all coming to light as he hung up the phone. After sending two visitors from other worlds to the New York Sanctum—per instructed by Dr. Stange, all peter wanted was some sleep.

But his little tingle had other plans.

The echo of a feminine, child-like giggle filled his ears as he armed the transporter device Strange had given him. Spinning around, his eyes met nothing. The area he thought he heard the noice was vacant, except the occasional bird sounds from the destroyed power lines he attempted to fix.

“Hello?” Peter called out, turning his head to the left and right to scourge the area. Again, nothing. Disarming the device, Peter turned back in the direction toward the sanctum, however he was stunned still at a dark figure in front of him. Crouching down ready for a fight, Peter took a moment to let his eyes wander over the stranger.

A woman stood before him. She appeared young enough to be in her early thirties, but the slight crinkles by her eyes suggests maybe we were a little older than that. She was beautiful, where one would surely lose the ability to think in her presence. The light from the sunrise illuminated her face, making her eyes so bright it felt like they were burning holes through Peter’s mask. Her snow white hair (which he could not tell if it were natural, dyed, or a wig) was pulled back into a tight ponytail, while her body was covered in an tight black outfit similar to the character Trinity in the Matrix.

“Hi there, Little Spider,” her voice was feather like. Peter took notice how in her hand, she was twirling a grappling hook. “I was hoping to become aquatinted earlier, but I saw you had a little trouble with Sandy and that Sparky fella so I thought it was best to wait a bit.”

The Spider-Man was too stunned to speak. Eventually though, he found his voice. “U-uhh, hi??” He slightly waved his hand. Thank God she couldn’t see his blush under his mask. “I’m assuming you know already I’m not your Peter. You’re in another universe—which it’s my fault you are-which I’m sorry for, but anyway I’m gonna get you back home—.”

She let out another giggle causing him to shut up, “Oh honey, you’re too cute when you ramble. Don’t be embarrassed though, I guess it’s a Peter Parker thing.”

“Ha, ha. Yeah…” Peter adjusted his mask, feeling the heat radiate up his neck for the second time.

“But yes. I know you’re not ‘my’ Peter as you pointed out,” the woman switched the grappling hook to her other hand, letting her finges caress the pointy edges. “Frankly you’re too young, too short, and your spandex suit is not the style I would ever see my Spider-stud rocking.” A smirk made it’s way onto her face, “I also heard you talking with your girl, MJ was her name?”

Peter tensed, his hand flexing which made the woman giggle again. “You head that?” The air between them changed, and Peter felt the tingling sensation return. It was not overpowering compared to the others earlier that day, but enough to know she had some threatening aura to her.

“I don’t know how I should feel honestly,” her head tilted in mock thought, “I guess it’s fair. After everything that happened between Spidey, MJ, and I all those years ago, It’s both comical and fitting that MJ is the one you chose in this world.” Peter couldn’t tell if she was being sarcastic or not, but it was enough for him to understand that she and the MJ from her world did not get along. “At least you still have your best friend in this world,” her tone was solemn, with hidden implication behind it. “ Ned, I assume? I saw his name on the paper. Isn’t he helping you and your girl on this little task?”

Peter rose from his crouching position, although maintained a defensive stance. “How do you know about that?” The young avenger was not sure what to think of this woman, giving the little information she’s revealed about her relation to the Peter of his world. Despite this, he didn’t like the feeling of her knowing his mission. For all he knows, maybe she and her Peter were not on good terms anymore and she’s resentful.

Plus he didn’t even know her name and if she’s an alternate version of someone in his world.

“I’ve been watching you since I’ve found you, little spider,” her voice went an octave lower, the childlike tone disappearing. “It wasn’t hard to piece together what happened today when one second I’m leaving my home to run errands, and the first thing I see is a newspaper with your face on it, calling you ‘Spider-Man’. It just so happen as I made my way though the city searching for answers, I spotted you leaving that odd building on Bleeker Street. It wasn’t hard to keep a close distance from you.”

“You’ve been following me all day?” Peter questioned. “How come I never sensed you?”

“I have a talent for such things,” she hummed, grasping the hook and moving her hands to tighten the belt on her trench coat. “I’m what you would say, quiet as a cat.” She reached into her coat pocket, pulling out a pair of black leather gloves. “It’s a good thing I did. When I saw who you encountered on the bridge, I was caught in headlights—which is not normal for me, but when you’ve seen ghosts you can’t help how you react.”

Her words were like sirens going off in Peter’s head. “Wait-wait,” he stuttered out when she pulled on the second glove, moving slightly forward. “You know those guys? They’re from your world?” His thoughts were racing, “Why did you call them ghosts? The octopus guy said the same thing about the green elf guy—.”

“Oh how I would love to see their faces when you call them that,” she laughed. “I would answer your questions, little spider, but there’s some people I need to find so I’m afraid this is goodbye. For now.” She spun around causing Peter to run after her.

“Wait I’m sorry—I can’t let you leave,” he armed the device, but she was faster. The trigger of the grappling gun sent the hook flying toward the wooded part of the power lines. Peter watched as she was pulled up and swung across the air similar to his web shooters. Aiming his arm up, Peter sent the teleport sling in her direction. At the last second before hitting her, she went left above the electric lines and took hold of the next wooded part of the next line.

“Shit” Peter muttered. Re-arming the device, he shot out his web and swung after her. He could hear her laughter each time she swung away from him. If he wasn’t so focused on sending her to the Sanctum, he would almost stop in awe at how graceful she was.

By now the sun was fully out and daylight took over. Her white hair seemed more vibrant under the sunlight, nearly blinding the boy. Peter noticed as time passed chasing her that they were drawing closer to the city. They were past the electric plant and in civilized territory.

Buildings made it easier for the woman to slip from his grip. He would get close enough to get a clear shot and then in seconds she was out of his sight. As they approached the streets of New York, the woman dropped down and rolled onto the sidewalk before picking herself up and running. Peter followed suit, pushing past people while muttering apologies left and right.

“I do love a chase, Little Spider!” Her playful voice rings out. He couldn’t believe how fast she was running in those heeled boots. Peter was hoping it would slow her down or even catch on the uneven ground, but nothing.

“I’m not loving it so much Miss. whatever your name is!”

He was able to have eyes on her because of her noticeable hair in contrast with her dark outfit, but as distanced between them increased Peter was finding it difficult to keep up. When the woman crossed the street, he saw a street light hanging on the opposite side and made the quick decision to shoot a web in the direction.

Peter soared through the air, and his eyes landing on her running figure that would cross in his path. Attempting to tackle the woman, Peter let go of the web when they were feet away. His action was caught short, when the woman spun unexpectedly and caught him mid-air.

A grunt left Peter’s lips, his body landing on the harsh ground however his head was protected when one of her hands wrapped around his head so it would take the brute of the impact. She had landed on top of him at first but then rolled him away from the incoming traffic. Peter’s shoulder met the curb of the concrete, and the weight of the woman was gone.

She was back on her feet, running in the direction toward downtown Queens. Peter, after catching his breath, quickly got up and ran after her. The chase lasted several minutes and he spotted her cut a corner through an alley. Peter shot a web to the roof of the building above him in order to intercept on the opposite side. When he got to the top, he was interrupted by the sound of his ringtone.

“You’ve got to be kidding me?” He rolled his eyes, but answered anyway without looking at the caller I.D. His attention was on the streets below him. “Hello?”

“Hey,” MJ’s voice spoke in his ear. “I was expecting to see you back here by now.” Her tone was concerning, and Peter felt guilty for his snappy greeting.

“Sorry,” he apologized. “I meant too. I got a little busy.”

“You sound like it,” she replied, “Everything okay?”

“Yeah, just—.” He paused when he spotted a flash of white and black beneath the building, running out into the open street. “Ran into some trouble.” Jumping down, Peter shot a web out toward the adjacent building, while keeping his eyes on the running woman.

“How bad is this trouble?”

“Not too bad compared to the other guys I’ve dealt with the last twenty-four hours. This one is just a little tricky to catch.” His foot hit the pavement, still clutching the phone in his head, and raced after the unknown woman. He was becoming annoyed at how good she was, and didn’t want her to slip from his grasp again.

“Okay well judging by your heavy breathing I can tell you’ve got your hands full. Just let me know when you’ve got them and when you’ll be back.”

“Will do!” he exclaimed when he tripped into a newspaper stand. “Bye!” Hanging up the phone, Peter managed to tuck it in his suit while running.

They had passed the high school and nearing toward the shelter when the women shot the hook again. She was pulled up one of the many buildings and Peter quickly did the same. The buildings were close together in this area which allowed them to jump from each unit roof by roof.

As they were coming up on the last building, Peter felt his chances to capture her were about to run out. He armed the device one last time and pushed himself to run faster than he ever had before. He got closer to her where she was only a few arms length and when she was fifteen feet from the curb, Peter shot the teleport toward her.

It slung out, inches from her, but just before it could hit her back she ducked and rolled letting it miss and fall over the building to the ground below. Peter didn’t anticipate for her to move to the side so when he attempted to tackle her once more, he missed. He ran right passed her and tripped over the ledge instead. A yelp escaped from him, unprepared for that to happen so he quickly shot out a web aimed at the roof.

But what shocked him was when he realized no web fluid released.

Panic overcame him, repeating the action and nothing when web shooter failed again. The wind whipped across his suit as he fell, and Peter couldn’t help the scream leaving his mouth. He had seconds to prepare for his end at the pavement waiting for him. Closing his teary eyes, Peter gasped a sudden impact met his side. Before he knew it he was being swung to the right and an arm was holding him up from his back.

His eyes shot opened, and was stunned to see white hair flaying in his face. He immediately wrapped his arms around her frame, holding tightly so he wouldn’t let go.

It felt different to be on the other end of the swinging.

“Holy shit!” Peter exclaimed, which made the woman chuckle.

“Tsk, tsk,” she looked down at him. “Gotta be careful there, little spider. Those heights aren’t something to play with.”

“H-how?” He said to himself, out of breath. “M-my web shooters. They didn’t work.”

“Web shooters?” She questioned with her brow raised. “Wait that’s how you make your web?” He nodded, his head slightly hitter her shoulder. “Hmm, that’s odd. You got bit by a radioactive spider, right?” Another nod. “Huh. I guess things are different. I wonder what he’ll think about that.”

She gently lowered them onto the pavement after swinging a few times between buildings to slow the momentum they had. Peter clutched his chest, pulling his mask off when he noticed they were in a corner of an alley away from the crowded street.

“Go back to your friends, Peter,” she told him, pulling out a pair of sunglasses to cover her eyes. “You’ve had quite the scare and I’m sure you’ve got better things to do then waste your time chasing me.”

“I can’t,” he shook his head. “Doctor Strange needs me to bring anyone who’s not from this world to him so he can work on a way to send you all back home. And frankly, I’m getting real tired so if you could please just cooperate with me I’d really appreciate it.” Peter watched her face for any emotion, but was surprised when she smiled at him.

“Little Spider, I’m the least of your worries compared to the other friends you’ve managed to make. And before you compare me to them by any chance, hurting you is the last thing I want to do. So do me a favor and stop chasing me. Don’t get me wrong, I love a game of cat and mouse, but you don’t want to play one with me. Otherwise you will get hurt, and not because I want you to, but I have a knack for bad luck against people who get in my way. And you just had a taste of it.”

It took a moment for him to register what she was telling him. His eyebrows raised and narrowed, “That was you?”

“Now it wasn’t intentional,” her hands rose in defense. “‘Twas an accident and an example of what I just said.” When the boy didn’t show any hit he was following along, the woman sighed. “Haven’t you ever heard that when you cross paths with a black cat, bad luck will follow?”

“What the—.” Peter mumbled, when it finally hit him. His eyes widened, making her lips curl up.

“I’ll leave it at that,” she clapped her hands. “I’d take my advice, little spider. I have a feeling though our paths will cross again,” she pulled her glasses down to wink at him. “Very soon.”

Before Peter could protest or make another move, she was gone.

[howl-fantasies]

Jello~ just had some random gotham thoughts 😙

What if [name] was Thomas Wayne's junior in Gotham academy. The little turd helped Wayne get himself a Mrs.

What if [name] is bff's with Deathstroke. They're not even best frienemies, just bff's. And it makes both Victor, Ed and even Barbara jealous 😆

What if [name] was holding back on her abilities, even when it's only her and Victor? But for what?

What if, Thomas Wayne was the first Batman?? No one knew because he wasn't all "I am the night!" With it.

What if he then handed over the Bat to [name] but she didn't want it cause it felt like a burden?

But... What if meta villains started appearing in Gotham trying to take over? The Bat needed to rise again.

What if [name] was the one of the founders of the justice league and not Bruce?

What if Bruce started out as a Robin? He didn't know it was [name] under that mask, but he didn't care to know because he wanted to protect Gotham. And his mentor was doing just that.

P.s. if [name] was Batman and let go, she'd totally kick everyone's asses.

P.p.s [name] would be a much scarier Batman or woman? Idk- I'm not good with names

Hello dear! Thank you so much for your request, it gave me a lot to think about during my sport, and I absolutely enjoyed every second of this deep-thinking session you instigated. Made me forget the pain 😂

So! Here are the answers to your questions:

Warning: dark themes, Gotham, twisted moral, mention of violence.

Word Count: 4.538

Tags: @immortal-velociraptor @keffirinne

GOTHAM RANDOM THOUGHTS AND INSIGHTS

What if [name] was Thomas Wayne's junior in Gotham academy. The little turd helped Wayne get himself a Mrs.

It's technically possible and and love this idea. But it brings up another question first: how does a child from the Narrows find herself in Gotham Academy?

We know Y/N has a sharp brain. As she grew in The Narrows and had to work for Carmine after her dad borrowed money from one of the king's loan shark, she often found herself thinking about the mob and its working. Clearly, the dirty work she was doing was for men also doing the dirty work themselves for bigger fishes.

She hated every second of her courier job but quickly came to realize that her evolution into the mob, since she was now corrupted by it, was inevitable. Her father's debt would never be paid back and if he or her mother died - which they did, when she was 14 - she would have to carry the whole burden.

If she didn't do something, maybe one day she would be a loan shark herself, still doing the dirty work for Carmine's officers and having some wannabe thugs / hungry or coaxed children to order around. Still, she was pretty sure she wouldn't be able to pay Falcone and his goons back.

Plus, excuse her, but even as a kid, she had some ego. Being ordered around like a dog running blindly where it's told to was out of the question. So, she asked herself what bigger fishes had in common. Obviously, aside from knowing how to use a gun: a proper education. And a good and clean background to show off during public events.

She never participated one but she saw Carmine's officers parading in town and heard about the prestigious schools those fuckers had graduated from. Gotham Academy was one of them.

She took the tests, asking for Wayne's ancestral scholarship, and passed the tests with flying colors. Y/N was lucky she's got a good memory and knew how to break into one of the Narrows' dingy but surprisingly helpful library.

Her years in GA were pretty boring until the day she met THE Thomas Wayne. How? Not during one of his classmates' bullying or her beating the absolute shit out of them - she wasn't an idiot, fighting would mean losing her scholarship, she would pay one of her friends from the Narrows to do that for her later.

No, Thomas simply was interested by her point of view. His father let him read out of curiosity one of the tests she had to pass to be accepted in his world. It was about moral. And the pristine young man was quite curious about how his junior would already possess such nihilistic point of view. So he asked her.

And god did they talk. They were never able to find a common ground. Thomas was an idealist while she was claiming to be realistic, she told him more than once. But he liked her wit and she liked his. So they kind of matched and started a kind of friendship.

And this is because of this friendship that Y/N decided to play matchmaker with Thomas and Marta. Also because she was ready to rip her own head off as Thomas was sighing like a stupid enamored guy just next to her EVERY freaking time Martha was around.

"Dude, I tell you this as a friend. Grow some balls or something and go tell her some fuckeries about love, birds and bees and take her out. Or I swear I'm going to punch you."

He obliged. It was tedious and she had to experiment the famous and insufferable "let's pretend I'm your crush, what do you tell her?" Who do you think Bruce has to thank for his incredible awkwardness uh? You got it.

She wasn't too worried about Thomas being hurt or his family hating his potential lover. Martha was the perfect opportunity for Y/N to test her skills in spying and collecting information all around the school and town. The woman was clean, everything was perfect.

Got one of her more memorable shouting contest with Wayne after he found out about her little investigation, though. "What's wrong with you Y/N?!"

"What's wrong?! What's wrong?! Nothing, you fucking rich kid! I did what any Gothamite would have done before starting something with someone! Get out of your fucking manor and your pretty rich boy clothes and go see by yourself how it is necessary when you don't have an entire task force to wipe your ass, Wayne!"

He was stunned but have to give her some credit. She came from the Narrows and he wouldn't be a douche enough to pretend it may not have a huge influence on how someone sees relationships in Gotham.

Plus he had to recognize later she did a pretty good job. Had to tell Martha at some point, too afraid about what she would do if she ever finds out. She was mad, like he was, but impressed. She made her swear she'd never do it again, though. "Scout Word", was the only answer she got. And we all know what it means in the other woman's mouth. Exactly. Nothing at all.

What if [name] is bff's with Deathstroke. They're not even best frienemies, just bff's. And it makes both Victor, Ed and even Barbara jealous 😆

Oh boy, the drama here. But we all live for it, right?

I think both of them being best friends is very interesting too. I don't think they would meet during a mission where they had the same target, it wouldn't do. We all know Wilson is literally a beast. Even more after his coma, so it wouldn't make sense to put them in a conflicting position, she wouldn't even have the chance to move and he would eradicate her in a second. I also think they might have a few years difference too. Deathstroke being older.

Y/N met him a bit after his coma and the safari hunting thing. Let me explain. After his coma, Wilson heard he could no longer serve in the army and was depressed. His wife always suspected he wasn't really satisfied with his new hunting and safari thing. She was right.

Wilson found himself in Gotham when the Lady offered him a contract and told him to go to her illegal casino for a meeting. He wasn't the only one present here that night.

Y/N was here too. Even if she was still working for Falcone's family as a courier, she couldn't go to the man and simply tell him she hated it and would give him his money back if he let her start a whole new kind of missions for him.

First, she would never be able to approach him. She was a little woodlouse and he was the freaking king of the city. Second, even if she managed to barge into his house like some grand villain epic queen, what experience or guaranties would she have to offer to convince him to let her climb the crime ladder? None.

At this time, her only weapon was her brain. So she approached the lady instead. She Offered her to collect information around town about this and that to help her assassins. In exchange, she wanted to be paid and trained.

The lady wasn't impressed. But after Martha, Y/N had the time to work on her spying skills, and even discovered she was quite good with any kind of technology put into her hands, especially the first computers.

This is how she was introduced to Wilson. He needed some insights about his target and information. He could have done the job himself but didn't want to stay in town too long and make his wife even more suspicious. He liked young Y/N's way of working. She was clear, concise and damn well organized. Clinical.

His target worked in R&D for one of Wayne's rival company. He had to kill them and bring back to the Lady's client the technology he was working on.

While Y/N was spying, she developed a program able to crack and unlock practically any 'simple door', working with a digital code or imprint. Thanks GA and their super-nice computers bought by the Waynes.

For doors locked with more protections, well, "You're the G.I Joe here dude. Put some C-4 on it or fucking run like a bull on steroids to explode them. Your shit, not mine." He liked her foul mouth, and liked the diskette she had created for him, allowing him to finish his mission quickly.

He also saw the intelligence in it. And in her too cold brown eyes. Yep, he liked her, and didn't tell the Lady to go fuck herself when she explained him the "kid" wanted to be trained as a payment.

Wilson still is far better than her in combat or with weapons, but he did a pretty good job teaching her. Clearly, Jim and everyone in town who had the absolute shit beat out of them know who to insult now.

A few years later, when Y/N started to work and sleep with Victor, she mentioned she had an appointment with her 'sports coach' to Victor. Beings paranoid, he had to follow her and discovered her best friendship with Deathstroke. THE Deathstroke. Why and how did she always managed to know every interesting people in and out Gotham?! And why did they interact like they knew each other for ages? He was livid.

"Do you fuck him?" Woah, Victor being Victor. Always direct and asking the most inappropriate things with a placid voice and blank face. Man never disappoints.

"Dude has kids. Zsasz" She answered with a sigh.

"Oh. Did I ask if you fucked his kids?" He said making her laugh so hard she had to smash her hands a few times on his car dashboard.

"Well for the records, I'm not into kids. And I'm not into real daddies." She replied mischievously.

He wasn't convinced. And, if you ask him, he is still sure they both fucked each other at some point. And it makes him so mad he could shoot and cut the entire city.

He's not stupid enough to attack Wilson, Zsasz doesn't want to die so soon. But he may have sent a picture of his wedding band to him. His annular wasn't extended, though. But his middle finger clearly was.

Wilson found it funny and always find some time to rile Victor up with his true and incredible friendship with his wife.

Ed wouldn't acknowledge Wilson super-intelligence, always referring to him as 'the beast' or 'brawn-man'. Is he petty? Totally. But he refuses Deathstroke and Y/N genuine friendship. Wilson must have threatened her at some point.

Nygma would pout like a 5yo every time Wilson would answer one of his riddles right and accuse him to cheat. He tried once to tell him that he wasn't correct because he was expected one of Y/N's kinky and twisted answer instead and was baffled when Wilson would give him the exact answer she would have given to Riddler.

Nope. Nu-hu, it was only chance or some planets alignment. The beast didn't know her THAT well. He, ThE rIdDlEr, did. Even better than Victor and Barbara, he was sure.

Barbara would be beyond mad. Furious. She would spat like an angry cat at Wilson and threaten him to shoot him, to torture him, she even tried once her super-ninja skills on him and saw her sorry ass being kicked like it never was before. She owes her survival to Y/N, who had to explain Wilson with a loud and bored sigh that she was an "unkillable bitch".

Not because she was so good at what she did, no. But "because God might find her funny and reload her every fucking time, like a final boss or a running joke". Deathstoke snorted and like to remind Barbara what Y/N said anytime she threatens him to attack him.

What if [name] was holding back on her abilities, even when it's only her and Victor? But for what?

It would be difficult for her to hold back with Zsasz. He might not be as good as Wilson, but he's a pretty skilled and observant assassin himself. He would know because of her posture / reflexes that she's holding back. And it would be really dangerous for her.

Physically, she wouldn't try her chance against her husband, she would only win because she would outsmart him. Which is also quite difficult since Victor possesses a fine street intelligence. But she managed to do it once or twice before they started banging each other. Without this, she would be dead.

Now, what Y/N is holding back from Zsasz is information. She has her own vision and comprehension of the city and likes to know what happens, with who, and for what. Victor knows she's skilled with a computer in her hands, but he doesn't know she works on many digital and R&D projects on her own. Gotham was a little crime oasis now, but it would change, it always changes. And she would have to survive and adapt.

And the city won't be secluded forever. What would happen if some villain from another city decided to annex it or, who knows, what would happen if mutants like Wilson raised and decided to take over the city and plunge it into chaos? Don't get her wrong, she basked in chaos, but in a calculated one.

Her many discussions with Deathstroke led them to speak about his training for Vietnam and how the army tried to incorporate new ways of fighting and thinking.

Even if computers and technologies started to be used in Gotham, they both knew it would play an important role in everybody's life in a few years and could make terrifying weapons. So she decided to experiment, stealing Government's informations about their technological programs or Wayne's rival ones.

She was also very interested by the Wayne's own researches but asked Thomas if she could consult them, she was a criminal but with some manners, and they had history, and she offered to work on a few programs for him with one of his new employee: Lucius Fox.

Both would work very well together and promised Thomas they would never ever talk about their collaboration and act like perfect strangers if fate ever put them face to face outside.

Victor isn't an idiot, he knows about Y/N's restless mind and her capacity to anticipate things. As long as her secrets don't compromise his missions, he is ok with it.

He lives in present and for action, and is gladly letting the plotting and worrying about Gotham's future to his wife. Though, he often wonders what it would be to take a look into Y/N's head to see what keeps her awake so many nights.

--

Holding back on her abilities with the rest of villains isn't a problem. It's in fact one of her strategies to confuse them. She plays the sassy and insane woman really well, she also is but not as much as she likes to show. Her silly antics tend to lure them into a false sense of security.

Don't get me wrong here too. People in town know not to mess with her, she isn't Gotham No.2 assassin because of her Colgate's smile. She shoots very well and they know it too. But they don't really realize how capable she is in hand to hand combat. Jim experienced it once and realized she let him arrest her.

Oswald and Ed noticed it too when they kidnapped her, tied her up to a chair and couldn't do anything when she still found a way to escape. Same with the GCPD in the OS Bloodbath, they clearly didn't think Y/N would play Trinity or some Matrix character.

Clearly, she wasn't only good with guns. What was her limits? For now only Wilson and Zsasz know about it. If you ask them, be ready for a shit-eating grin making cold sweat break on your back.

What if, Thomas Wayne was the first Batman?? No one knew because he wasn't all "I am the night!" With it.

Again, totally possible. We saw it when Bruce and Alfred unlocked the soon to be Batcave. Everything was already set and the letter Thomas left to Bruce made me wonder how far he exploited the idea.

If Thomas was the first Batman, I think he would mostly watch and wait. Collecting information all around the city about every family and shady personality to use them later against them if needed, pretty much like Y/N did and still do but for other purposes.

Thomas wouldn't do it to fight people in a flamboyant way like Bruce will, but in a softer way, providing proofs and elements for the GCPD and justice to stop the criminals before they burn the city into the ground because of their greed. I think he wanted to preserve a balance.

The power dynamic when Thomas was working on the cave was already established with Falcone as the King, Maroni as his nemesis, thugs here and there but when it started to change and violence as well as corruption increased, Thomas was ready to start his vigilante's project but was brutally killed before he could concretize it. I think he wasn't as strict as Bruce may have been at first. His debate about morality in a city like Gotham with Y/N never really left him.

Gotham is a very special city, based on crime, deceiving and war for power. When Carmine was its King, it worked because the man had some moral and still thought about the city and the citizen, this is why he was frenemy with Jim's father and probably Thomas himself. Carmine was some kind of necessary evil to rule the evil spirits in this evil town.

What if he then handed over the Bat to [name] but she didn't want it cause it felt like a burden?

He would have talked to Y/N about his vigilante project at some point and she may have helped with Lucius to build it. Y/N also wants a balance between good and bad in the city, because she likes Gotham and because too much havoc would bring too much attention and inevitably force the Government to take measures and probably eradicate the city since we know it can't function without crime.

Thomas might have asked her to take his role as a vigilante if anything happened to him. She indeed refused. The burden would be too much, and she has some kind of twisted moral. She already was spying on the important figures in town and used the information mostly for her own personal benefits. She wouldn't do, she would be too tempted to focus on her criminal's mind instead of the greater good.

Someone else needed to take the position to counter her selfishness or the balance wouldn't work anymore. "Let's be realistic here, Thomas. We are friends, yes, but you know I am not a good person. This thing you created needs someone selfless, and it's not me. We both know it too."

Though, she agreed to keep an eye on Gotham until someone worthy takes the position. She hated it, but it wasn't forever. That is basically why she cooperates with the GCPD from time to time and tries to keep Jim and Harvey alive. Well, for Harvey, it's more because they have history and she finds him funny.

She thought Jim would be a good candidate for the job. But when she realized the path Bruce was taking, she quickly understood who would be Gotham next vigilante. She would always feel a bit guilty about it.

Thomas wouldn't have approved. But, like she told him, they both knew she wasn't a good person. So she let it happens. The kid had the shoulders to support the burden and would be way better than her for the job.

She made Thomas a silent promise, though: she would never try to kill his son. And she would stick to it.

But... What if meta villains started appearing in Gotham trying to take over? The Bat needed to rise again.

This is maybe the only scenario where she would be ready to wear a freaking costume and kick some villains' asses for the greatest good. She wouldn't let the city plunge into uncalculated chaos because some stupid super-powered sickos wanted to make everything explode just for the thrill of it. No, chaos needed a good motivation, a clear goal and a clear plan.

So, yeah. She would help Jim and the GCPD do their fucking job until someone takes the place. Jim would notice it's her at some point. And when he would ask her why, she would only say she wanted to eradicate concurrence.

He doubted it but didn't push. He would probably understand years later when Batman would come and he wouldn't see her again playing twisted hero. She was only keeping the vacant seat while waiting for the Batman.

What if [name] was the one of the founders of the justice league and not Bruce?

Since Y/N likes to worry about the future, she may already have anticipated heroes would at some point work together to stem crime, violence and new kind of villains.

Even if she wasn't very present physically in Bruce's life, I think she would always have some project for Lucius and him opened somewhere and exchange at least weekly with them about it.

She suggested the idea to Bruce, explaining him villains were already teaming up, so maybe it was also time for him to reach other super-heroes to do the same.

He wouldn't be too pleased to hear about his "criminal-consultant", as she liked to call herself, advice but Alfred convinced him to do it.

He would keep her updated about the founding of the league, ask for her skills to help Lucius provide them some tools and useful technologies but would always pay a great attention about what information he was giving her. She was still a villain. And technically one of his enemies. But he would hear her advice and gladly takes what she has to offer.

Nobody apart from Lucius, he, Alfred and she would know about who had the idea of the Justice League.

"You're better than me at playing Leader of the Light Brucie, even as the Dark Knight, which is pretty funny by the way. Nobody would ever suspect your good old evil Auntie was the one who came with this brilliant idea. Maybe Riddler, but he's far too busy to speculate about my precarious position between the good and the bad to give a shit."

"You're not my aunt, Y/N. And don't call me Brucie. What about Victor?"

"He would probably ask at some point. Like he asked me if I was the one who invited some aliens to Metropolis when your dear friend Superman started his brilliant heroic career.

"Like he asked me if I was the one who decided the color of the new GCPD's facade. Victor spent the last 15 years imagining I'm some king of great puppet master, or a god, or that you all are Sims and I'm the player. The idea will come and go, don't worry about it too much dear. Just let me brainfuck my husband." She would say. And he would trust her to do it.

What if Bruce started out as a Robin? He didn't know it was [name] under that mask, but he didn't care to know because he wanted to protect Gotham. And his mentor was doing just that.

The irony here. I mean, imagine him being trained by Alfred and Y/N but he didn't know it was her until much later, he would be really salty and some drama would probably happen between the two since she's one of the most prolific assassin in town. Bruce would feel betrayed. But it could be a good opportunity for him to understand things aren't only black or white. He already experienced it with Selina and Y/N would confirm it.

When he heard about some vigilante helping Jim and the GCPD to catch and arrest villains, he would tell Alfred he wanted to work with her, that she was doing the right thing, and, as a Wayne he had a duty to watch over Gotham. Alfred would cringe, he knew about Y/N and why she was doing this, and tried to deter his young master, failing brilliantly at it. He would call her and tell her about the teen's plan and she would be furious, demanding Alfred to freaking tie him up or break his kneecap to keep him far away from her. Again: epic fail.

Teen Bruce would force her hand, popping in all her confrontations with villains and putting his precious life at risk at first, getting an earful from Alfred and Y/N after. Both, the butler and the hitwoman would decide to train him after the fifth time he did it.

She would be his least favorite teacher since she can be cruel and ruthless. Hey, she promised Thomas she wouldn't kill the kid. She never said anything about beating the shit out of him, for his own good.

As an adult, he still sees Y/N as some kind of mentor, even if he would never say it aloud. It would be interesting to imagine Deathstroke recognizing some of Y/N's moves in Bruce fighting technique when he would fight him. Moves, Wilson would have been the one to initially teach her. He would confront her about it and she would politely invite him to go cook his ass on a burning hot grill. But he would know.

And his mind would understand why she did it, even if he wouldn't agree with it. He respects and like her too much to try to force her to reveal Batman's identity to him, so he would let it slide. Ignorance is sometimes a bliss and he didn't want to enter a political and moral game he didn't care about. It was her field, and Batman's.

P.s. if [name] was Batman and let go, she'd totally kick everyone's asses.

🤣I imagined her terrifying villains with her own "I AM THE NIGHT" with the same deep and modified voice Bruce will use later, just for the fun of saying it Bwahahaha!

P.p.s [name] would be a much scarier Batman or woman? Idk- I'm not good with names

She would probably, but not because she would be better than Bruce at fighting or intimidating people. But because she doesn't care to kill her foes. That difference would make her scarier. Villains wouldn't fight to escape jail or Arkham, they would fight for their life if she decided to kill them.

--

I'll go with my own P.s.: I love the idea of Y/N and Victor still being together many years later when Batman took his vigilante role. Zsasz would still be scary AF and have his own fights with Bruce, never knowing the Bat worked with his wife and personally know her.

As I said earlier, Victor would suspect Y/N's implication in the new order of the city. He knows how she likes to play the game of thrones from afar and monitor who is taking the crown or holding power. In a way, she makes me think of Varys but in a less noble way.

Anyway, as Victor often wonders what she was thinking about and what new secrets she enjoyed keeping from everyone, it would lead him to theorize about the most delirious things (see the points about GCPD new facade and the Sims).

He likes to observe her playing the game, it thrills him and remind him of their glorious days with Carmine. He was there when Falcone told Y/N she understands Gotham better than his own children and shares his vision for the city.

After Sofia's incident, he often thought about this moment and realized that if he had to give his loyalty not only as a lover but as a criminal too to someone, it should be to his wife. She was Carmine's true heir. Not Oswald, not any other mobster or villain. She was. The actual crown wouldn't sit well on her head, but she wears its shadow perfectly.

--

A/N - I hope you liked my babbling and it was clear enough for you my dear. Thank you again for your request, don't hesitate to ask again I love your thoughts and enjoy thinking about it! Have a beautiful day/night, take care! 💞

[crodo-writing]

Only for Him

Character(s): Jonah Clemence

Gender-neutral reader | Word Count: 2.4k (650 in the first, 1.7k in the second)

Contents: Soulmate au where the first words you speak to your soulmate appear on your skin.

Warning: Yandere in second ficlet, Touching (sfw) without consent, general creepy vibes in the last ficlet

a/n: haha sorry for saying i was moving accounts and then not uploading smth soon after, i was writing multiple of these and uuuh it turned out writing for just one character was long enough. I have more though :3

When you are his soulmate

Soulmates had been a romanticized topic around Jonah, a mythical thing he would never be allowed to enjoy, a silly fairytale. On top of being the next Queen of Hearts and having to marry a noble woman to continue the line, his soulmate’s line was… rather anticlimactic and uninteresting. It was the furthest thing from romantic he could get. “I’m not lying” is so simplistic, so generic, and who would say that as their first words to someone? Not anyone that Jonah knew of, that’s for sure, because what reasonable person would lead off the conversation with “I’m not lying”?

And yet that was what someone said to him, straight to his face. That mysterious person that fell to Cradle on the night of the full moon, Alice the second, the one who had Cradle’s future in the palm of their hands, and the one who would help win them the war between red and black. On that night, not only was he surprised by their magic-defying ability, but the fact that they spoke the words his soulmate would speak to him. He didn’t know what to be more flabbergasted about, and that moment of hesitation made him lose them, as they ran as swiftly as they appeared. 

It was his duty to get this Alice for his king, but it was his duty as their soulmate to inform them that they were his. They most likely already knew but they hadn’t reached out to him. How rude. So he did the best thing to accomplish both goals; have a private meeting with the Alice. And for further planning, he’d be able to get both the second Alice for the red army and his soulmate. He couldn’t think of a better scenario if he tried. 

He was very pleased with himself and grew excited when he saw his soulmate ascend from the Civic Center and into the garden alone, just as he had asked. Oh how excellent it was to have a soulmate who could take orders from him. He couldn’t ask for anything better. 

Throughout their first meeting together, they wouldn’t stop surprising him. In a bad way, he would insist, as they were feisty and didn’t like to listen to him at all. They were rather hostile to him. As the meeting went on, Jonah grew more antsy and crossed with the situation before him. But the straw that broke the oxe’s back was when they told him, with such conviction, that they “could never love him.”

“Let’s play a game, Alice,” Jonah proposed with a strained smile, abruptly standing up from his chair and walking over to them. In a desperate attempt to hold his composure, he tried to school himself about how he had no reason to get so riled up about their words and actions. This was merely a pawn. His pawn, but a pawn nonetheless. Their words didn’t matter, don’t let such petty words spoken by a commoner make him irate. By the time he made his way across the table and over to Alice, he grabbed their chin for direct eye contact. “Why not play a game of love? You say you can never love me? Do you stand by that statement?”

Alice replied with a huffy “I do!”. Oh how fun it was to rile them up like they did to him. 

Jonah’s smile changed from a mask to one of mischief. “Then you won’t have a problem taking on this challenge from me. Once every three days, we’ll have a date.”

His words only made them angrier, but they couldn’t get out any words before Jonah pulled away from them and started his way back down to the Civic Center. As he walked away, Jonah spoke out to Alice. “I’ll be generous and give you wishes of luck. Though I know you’ll fall for me. Then you’ll be where you belong, right by my side”

When you aren’t his soulmate (1779)

Jonah wouldn’t say he was “fascinated” by the idea of soulmates, because that implies that he looks into this silly fairytale idea. No, as the Queen of Hearts he would never. He was never meant to have a soulmate. The universe could assign him a soulmate, but his destiny was paved by his ancestors and love was not something that they would allow for him. So it would have been better if he just never looked into soulmates. He swore he never did.

Then they had to come and ruin everything for him. This person from the land of reason. They would be his, and not just for the sake of the Red Army. Something about them just attracted him towards them. They were his destiny. Yet the words on his wrist said differently, saying words far different than the ones they spoke to him.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you too, Queen of Hearts,” blemished his wrist. Scowling for the uptenth time, Jonah tears his eyes away from the words. There were a plethora of things wrong between you and the words from his soulmate that all added up to you not “being the one”. For example, you didn’t even know who he was. A shame, truly. Then you acted so brashly and indignantly. And there were so many other things, yet he knew you were “the one” for him. The universe had it wrong, that was all. He could easily fix this with some seduction on his behalf. On top of that, it wasn’t like you two had to be soulmates; there wasn’t a guarantee that soulmates would find each other. It was a rare and celebrated occurrence. If you were his soulmate, it would make everything far easier. Yet his best efforts came up barren, as his proposed challenge of “dates” didn’t make you like him at all. If anything, it made you hate him more.

Furrowing his brows, Jonah tried to think of other ways to get you. Time was ticking and he had less than two weeks to get you. Jonah pondered over many options. There was always the option to go straight to kidnapping, but that wouldn’t be honorable. The deal was that you would fall for him on your own volition, that he’d win you over, not just grab you. No, he had to figure out something that would still force you into the Red Army Quarters. They would be his. They were his. 

The words on his wrist kept taunting him, practically screaming at him about the connection he has and how you aren’t his other half. A stark reminder that the universe didn’t see you two fit. The universe was blind, it could be wrong, so why would he blindly follow what the universe laid out for him? 

Snarling at the tattoo, he pulled the sleeve of his shirt and coat down, hiding the most useless thing to him. It was going to gain some usage today though. He didn’t think himself to be a brute, but if he had to force two puzzle pieces together to make an image, then so be it. 

This would be the last day you weren't officially Jonah’s.

Jonah had made plans for the third date between you two, choosing the crystal lake to show you what “Cradle had to offer”, since you were interested in Cradle. It was secluded, a gorgeous sight, especially to someone who wasn’t from Cradle, and rather romantic. The sky was clear, the sun didn’t shine too brightly, and the temperature was refreshingly cool. Really, nothing could go wrong. 

He arrived first, of course. He decided a small picnic was in order, as you seemed to like more common activities. Things that were really below him, but nonetheless sweet. You arrived as Jonah was placing the picnic blanket down, albeit clumsily and in the most awkward fashion ever, but he was preparing everything well enough. 

“Do you need help there?” you walk over to Jonah, already reaching down to fix the blanket. 

“No,” Jonah swats your hands away, scrunching his face up. “I don’t. I can do this just fine, give me just a moment.” With that, Jonah went back to laying the blanket on the ground. Some of it was still bunched up, but it was still the best place to sit in the immediate area. “See! Perfect! Now come, come sit. The food won’t eat itself.” Jonah grabs the previously discarded basket of goodies and goes to the blanket. 

“Alright, alright,” you chuckle, walking over to Jonah’s blanket and sitting yourself down. “What do you have today, oh great Queen of Hearts?”

“Some sandwiches, macaroons, strawberries. Just some light things.” Jonah seemed to have brightened up from your words. Maybe he was preening from you referring to him by his title. “Oh, there’s something I wanted to ask about the Land of Reason.” 

“And what could that be?” Looking at him quizzically, you try to decipher where the conversation could be leading to. He hasn’t seemed too curious about it before. The focus on the dates so far had been on whooing you. Maybe he was trying a new tactic or gathering intel for a new tactic? 

“Are there soulmate connections?”

“Yes,” you quirk a brow at his question. That seemed rather odd to ask. “We have soulmate connections in the land of reason. Do you not have them in Cradle?”

“Oh we have them in Cradle,” There was nearly an audible smile in his words. “I was just asking to see if there were any in the land of reason, because of the lack of magic there.”

“Why would that make us have no soulmates?” squinting, you try to quickly think of where this leads. Soulmates. He’s asking for soulmates… does he want to know if you have a soulmate? Or if you’re soulmates? No you’d already know by now, plus it’d be a nightmare to be his soulmate. You’d send your regards to his poor soulmate if you could.  

“I don’t know,” Jonah shrugged. “I just wanted to see what differences there were between the Land of Reason and Cradle.”

“Well, is there anything else about soulmates there you want to know about?” You try to finish all this soulmate talk as soon as possible, specifically for future encounters. If you get everything out here, he’ll stop pestering you.

“What’s your soulmate connection?” He asks it so simply, yet it was the most shocking thing he could have asked. Mouth agape, you try to formulate a response, but Jonah keeps going. “Mine is the tattoo one, the first words your soulmate speaks to you.” 

“Oh really? Well mine’s-” You can’t even try to be polite and Jonah interrupts. He makes it so hard to be nice, he really does. 

“Anyways, Soulmate, how do you do?” You’re flabbergasted. If you weren’t so shocked, you’d joke about how he could ask a worse question than the one before. He’d manage to find something worse, you were betting on that now. 

“Excuse me? I’m not your soulmate?” Indignantly, you try to get the conversation to get equal again, for you to be an active participant, to be an equal to Jonah. At least in the conversation. You couldn’t even dream about being on his level, but a conversation was different.

“Well you may not be my soulmate, but I love you.” With a stern face, he slowly started to unveil his intentions. “We could make this work.” With every word, he kept making the encounter worse. At this point, it was probably the worse date you’d ever gone on. This was practically proposing on the first date, with someone you barely got along with. Where’d he even get the “we” from? He was rather delusional on that front, that or making flawed assumptions. There’s no way you’d go through this willingly. 

“I don’t love you though!” You shout, losing composure. This was a train wreck, truly terrible. Jonah had never talked to a a romantic interest. To hell with this “plan” to hold the war off with these playdates, Jonah was freaky at this point. “I don’t know where you got that impression, but I don’t have any feelings for you.”

“Well I do!” He yelled back, composure completely gone, leaving a panting, desperate man. His feelings were more important than yours. 

He wasn’t going to take a rejection. 

“I love you so much and I hate that. I loathe the fact that you keep me up at night.” Crawling over, like the desperate and deprived man he is, his manic eyes met your. You were frozen in shock, this is not the Jonah you’ve known.  

You’re barely able to scoot back before Jonah is in front of you, grabbing your wrists to stop your escape. Though he quickly moves to your side after securing you, holding you in an embrace from behind. This would be very sweet if Jonah wasn’t like this. Or better yet, if it wasn’t Jonah at all. You’d be sure to avoid him in the future, but you were scared you wouldn’t have a future after this. Both arms wrapped around you. Before getting fully situated, he pulled the sleeve down on one of his arms, before intertwining the used hand with one of your and laying both against your stomach. Your other arm was getting squished between Jonah’s other arm and his body. He held his wrist out, his bare wrist clearly visible and tattooed words upon them in a refined handwriting. “Now you better say the words on my wrist if you know what’s good for you.”

Jonah had an amazing knack for being horrid. You were too shocked to speak. You were truly a fish on land, both because it felt like you were suffocating and you could only open and close your mother in shock. You really jinxed yourself by saying asking about soulmates was the most shocking he’d get. He exceeded your expectations. 

When you didn’t speak, Jonah gave you a quick squeeze to get your attention. “I told you to read the line.” He was getting impatient. 

Somehow you find your voice again and shakily do as he asked. “Uh I- it’s a pleasure to meet you too, Queen of Hearts.” You were slow, but you still said it, pleasing Jonah. He repositioned himself a bit to a proper hug from behind, resting his head onto your shoulder.

“See? It wasn’t that hard,” he spoke softly into your ear, one of the most patronizing congratulations you’d heard from this haughty mess of a man. “Now everything will be easier.”

Ikemen Revolution Masterlist

[silversatoru]

Can i regurst a gojo x reader smut where y/n is gojo’s ex girlfriend and also a strong jujutsu sorcerer and they get back together asdfghjkl 🥺😂? Tyy 🥺

hehhee yes ma’am here u are!!! i actually loved writing this one (i think i just have a thing for writing gojo lately lmao) anyway! i! hope! you! enjoy!

to heaven and back

gojo satoru x f! sorcerer!reader

synopsis: you and your ex, gojo satoru, beat the hell out of a few special grade curses and then head back to his house to rekindle an old (and kind of kinky) flame

tags/warnings: nsfw (18+), smut, handcuffs, blindfolding, little bit of oral sex, teasing, alcohol consumption, some fluff at the end? just a little

word count: 3.1k

You lifted your elegant glass of random wine that you could care less about knowing the name of, and took a long sip. All of these old rich bastards talked way too much about brand names, aging, and what cheese paired well with each wine. They were missing what was really important — which one would get you drunk the quickest. 

These kinds of formal events weren’t really your scene, and having to listen to a bunch of old, conservative, high-up jujutsu leaders was terribly boring — so why not take this opportunity to get a little tipsy? You deserved it for putting up with all of these assholes. After all, the only reason they invited you to this prestigious event was for protection. If that pesky band of special grade curses caught wind that all of the higher ups from both Kyoto and Tokyo were in the same place, they were sure to launch some kind of attack. The old, wrinkly douchebags couldn’t care less about your opinions of the jujutsu world and how you would change it, they only liked you for incredible cursed technique. 

And so here you were, spitefully wearing your most elegant dress and downing glasses of wine in an attempt to drown out all of the nonsense around you. There was only one thing that could make this event any worse and— 

“Hello everyone! The strongest jujutsu sorcerer has arrived — I know you were all looking forward to my appearance”. 

And there it was. There was that one thing that could make this event any worse. Gojo Satoru.

You dipped your head low, burying yourself in your glass of wine and praying to any god who would listen to not let this man see you. It’s been over two years since the two of you broke up, but he still wasn’t someone you enjoyed running into. 

Gojo was terribly notorious for having a long line of girls at his disposal, and with his incredible strength and annoyingly good-looks, it wasn’t hard to understand why. The two of you had never been in an officially committed relationship, and so technically Gojo was free to do as he pleased — but you were practically dating and your heart ached every time you caught wind of him being with another woman. And so two years ago you cut things off with him for good — you were tired of being the one he always ran back to at the end of the day. 

He’d looked at you with eyes full of pain that night, begging and pleading to stay with him. He showed you a vulnerable side to him that you had never seen before — and he swore to you that if you had asked to make things official, he would have committed himself to you fully. You declined however, because you felt like you shouldn’t have needed to ask for that kind of thing — but maybe that was just your ego getting in the way. 

“Hey, beautiful, I’ve never seen you around before, you must be from the Tokyo campus,” Some random assistant casually leaned against the counter you were sitting at and shook you out of your thoughts.

“If you’ve never seen me before then you must not be very important,” You shot him a distasteful glance, taking another sip of your wine. 

The man’s face lit up with panic — he must not have been expecting such retaliation to his pathetic attempt of flirting. 

“Are you bothering her?” A familiar voice came from behind you — a long, slender hand slapping down onto your shoulder, “Please don’t flirt with my wife”. 

“Ah- Wife? I’m so sorry, sir,” The man stumbled over his words, bowing his head to Gojo and scurrying away. 

Gojo wasted no time sliding into the seat next to you and pouring himself a glass of wine from the bottle you’d already been working on. 

“Really? You’re telling people I’m your wife now?” You gave him a deadpanned look. 

“It worked, didn’t it?” He shrugged his shoulders and took a sip from his glass. 

You rolled your eyes hard, “Why are you here, Satoru?” 

“Same reason as you. The old, conservative pussies are afraid those special grades might attack — so why not invite their two prized sorcerers to protect them?” 

“Fair,” You let out a heavy sigh, “Not sure that was their best move though — I don’t think either one of us is very motivated to save these fuckers”. 

“No, but I brought my students with me today. So, if anything does happen, make sure you put on a show for them,” He winked, already topping off his wine glass. 

You looked over to see a few kids sitting a couple tables away from the two of you, chatting amongst themselves and wondering why the fuck they had to be here. 

And so an hour or two went by, and to your surprise, you found yourself laughing hysterically alongside Gojo. The two of you had definitely drank a bit too much, and your personalities complimented each other a little too perfectly. You shared the same terrible sense of humor and he had quite the knack for bringing out this lighthearted side of you. You had missed moments like this these past two years. 

Neither of you were paying any attention to the current debate that was occurring between the higher ups when a loud crash sent broken pieces of glass flying through the grand hall. Sure enough, the curses had made their appearance and came flying into the building through a now broken window.

“It’s our time to shine, huh?” Gojo looked over at you, and you imagined that his icy blue eyes were swirling with excitement under that mask. 

“Yeah, let’s make this quick,” You found a warm ball of excitement churning in your own stomach — it’d been a long time since the two of you had fought together. 

Your technique revolved around the manipulation of cursed energy and converting it into light. You could wrap yourself in a shield of light, send curse-filled bursts of light at your enemies, and move at the speed of light as well — which was almost as efficient as Gojo’s teleportation abilities. You had a series of more advanced moves as well, but those required more energy output and therefore you used them a little less often.

The two of you were both able to move so fast that the curses really didn’t stand a chance. You found yourself laughing as you flipped through the air, hurling balls of light at the curses as Gojo worked closer in hand-to-hand combat. At one point, while the two of you were flying past each other, Gojo stuck out his hand and gave you a high five, both of you smiling like maniacs who enjoyed fighting a little too much. 

Between Gojo’s Limitless and your extreme agility and bursts of light, the curses were quickly forced to flee. Both of you were feeling much too drunk and much too lazy to chase after them, even with all of the higher ups begging you to do so. Gojo simply flipped them off and stuck out his tongue, saying that he did what they paid him to do — keep the curses away — and now that the curses had been scared off, he was no longer needed. 

“You want to come back with me, relieve more of our old memories together? I remember how much you loved sleeping in my king sized bed,” Gojo looked back at you, offering one of his large, slender hands. 

Maybe it was the alcohol or maybe it was your stupid, stupid heart, but you reached out and took his hand, “Fuck it, let’s go”. 

Gojo’s house on the outskirts of the Tokyo campus was just as you remembered — sleek black interior with modern furniture and extravagantly silky sheets on his bed — his same bed that you were currently sprawled out on, laying in nothing but your undergarments. 

Gojo joined you a couple minutes later, his bare skin warm and familiar against yours. He pressed a few sloppy kisses to your lips, both of you still incredibly tipsy and unable to stop the small giggles from leaking out between your lips while you kissed. 

“Take the blind fold off you weirdo,” You pulled at the back of the black fabric. 

“Mmm, okay,” He mumbled, undoing the knot and exposing his piercing blue eyes.

“So pretty,” You murmured under your breath — his eyes really were the most beautiful thing you’d ever seen in your life

His fluffy silver hair fell down messily over his face, a drunken smile stretched across his lips. His smile quickly turned into a devilish grin as he slipped the mask over your eyes instead, tying a tight not at the back of your head.

“This isn’t what I meant,” You droned, but you didn’t argue — you certainly weren’t opposed to being blindfolded.

“It looks good on you,” He slurred, his words messy and his lips even messier as he pressed them back against yours. 

The kisses seemed to last forever, and both of you were perfectly okay with that — your hands taking their time exploring each other’s bodies for the first time in far too long. 

Gojo’s hands worked their way up your back, tracing lines along your toned muscles until he finally reached the nape of your neck. His fingers entangled themselves in your hair, soft hums coming from his lips.

“I still have handcuffs, if you’re still into that sort of thing,” he mused, massaging his fingertips into your scalp. 

“Damn, I can’t believe you remember what I like. I thought my preferences would have gotten lost among the sea of other women you were pleasing,” You let the snarky remark roll off your tongue, though there was clearly no real spite in your words — you’re both adults and what happened then was in the past now.

“It wasn’t even that many,” He defended, “And you were the only one who ever mattered”. 

“I’m flattered,” You laughed, “Now, where are those handcuffs?” 

Gojo stifled a deep laugh, his hands leaving your hair as he lifted himself up and stood from the bed. When he returned a few moments later, there was cool metal wrapping around both of your wrists. He had two sets of handcuffs, putting one on each wrist and then hooking the other side to the bed posts. 

You were entirely at his disposal now, your hands secured over your head and your vision blocked off by the black mask. 

“I could tickle you right now and there’s nothing you could do,” Gojo observed aloud, pressing kisses up the side of your torso.

“Satoru, I would kick the living shit out of you,” You threaten, goosebumps growing under your skin. 

“Yeah, but you can’t touch me unless I let you,” He retaliated, his soft hands reaching underneath your bra to feel your breasts.

You groaned in response — his Limitless really did make him impossible.

He cupped each of his hands around your firm lumps, gently massaging them between his fingers. His cool fingertips then made their way down to your lower body, swiftly removing your remaining underwear. You were now completely exposed to him, chills running down your spine as you wondered what he would do next. 

You heard a shaky breath leave his lips, his hungry hands massaging circles into your thighs, “God, you’re so beautiful. I missed you so much, you know that?” 

“I’m sure you did,” You breathed, “I’m a wonderful person to be around”. 

Gojo let out a hearty laugh, and you heard what you assumed to be the sound of his own underwear getting thrown to the floor. A few seconds later he was straddling your torso, his warm thighs wrapped around your body. You couldn’t see it, but you knew his massive member had to be right in front of your face now. 

“Remind me what that pretty mouth can do,” He cooed, pressing the tip of his length gently to your lips. 

You graciously granted him access, parting your lips and taking the head of his cock into your mouth. You swirled your tongue around the sensitive tip, earning a few twitches from Gojo’s body. You began to bob your head back and forth as much as the handcuffs allowed, a few quiet moans leaving his throat in response. 

He began to move his hips against you, gingerly pushing his member deeper and deeper into your mouth until you were taking the full length down your throat. He groaned and let a few curse words slide from between his teeth — your mouth was wrapped so perfectly around him. Tears pricked at your eyes and a couple rough gags ripped through your throat, Gojo finally pulling away and allowing you to catch your breath. 

After that, you felt a single one of his long, slim fingers slide into your mouth, and you wasted no time wrapping it in your tongue and sucking hard. 

“Good girl,” He murmured, plucking his finger back out of your mouth and moving it down to your aching entrance. 

Between the saliva on his finger and the slick juices around your opening — his finger slid in effortlessly. He started moving in quick movements, curling his finger up into your g-spot each time. A few light moans left your lips, your fists clenching in the cuffs as your yearned for more. His finger felt good, but you wanted the real thing — you needed it.

“Satoru, please,” You practically whined his name, a tiny bit ashamed for how desperate you were for him right now. 

“Patience, love,” He clicked his tongue and your heart did somersaults at the endearing name. 

He removed his singular finger and intertwined it with a second one before sliding them back into your cavern. He picked up a steady pace again, your breath hitching in your throat. Two fingers was certainly better than one, but the continuous teasing was just making you even more desperate to feel his member inside of you. You mumbled his name over and over, small pleads and shameless whispers leaving your mouth as you bucked your hips against his hands.

“No ones fucked you as good as I used to, have they? You’re horribly desperate right now” He clicked his tongue again, removing his fingers and moving them up to your clit. He rubbed the smallest, softest circles against the small nub, your core growing warmer with desire. 

“I won’t make you wait any longer then,” He whispered, sitting back and positioning the head of his length against your throbbing cunt. 

“Please,” You mumbled fervently, any ego or pride that you once had was completely down the drain now. 

Your pleads were finally rewarded, Gojo pressing himself deep into your tight walls. The immediate feeling was complete bliss, your head rolling back in pleasure as you heard a throaty moan creep it’s way out of Gojo’s mouth. His moans were so pretty — god, you’d missed the sound of them.  

He moved in and out at a tantalizingly slow pace at first, your hips bucking and wiggling as you made fervent attempts to make him go faster.

“So eager…” He shook his head, continuing to move at a pace that was absolutely agonizing — you thought you might die if he didn’t rail the hell out of you soon. 

“Please, fuck,” You gasped, “Stop moving so goddamn slowly”. 

“Your whines are so pretty, baby. Say my name and maybe I’ll give you what you want,” He murmured, his voice low and husky. 

“Fucking hell,” You gritted your teeth, “Please Satoru, please fuck me already”. 

“Shit,” He mumbled under his breath, your words sending electricity coursing through his body. 

After hearing you say that, he was quick to give you what you wanted, picking up his pace and wrapping his hands firmly around your hips. Strangled combinations of moans, whimpers, and cries filled the air as they flew from your mouth. You didn’t care how loud or desperate you sounded, you wanted him to know how good he was making you feel. 

The two of you were an entangled mess of sweaty skin and throaty moans, Gojo filling your ears with praises and compliments the entire time. His lengthy member railed into you over and over, hitting that perfect pleasure point with each stroke and sending warm surges of ecstasy through your veins. 

Your bodies moved together in sync, your breaths aligning and your climaxes threatening to arrive simultaneously. After a few more firm strokes, you felt yourself drowning in pleasure — euphoria crashing through your body like waves. Gojo reached his end point just a few moments later, his loud cuss words and strangled moans filling your ears. 

The two of you rode out your orgasms together, and almost immediately afterwards Gojo collapsed next to you. He lazily reached up and uncuffed each of your hands, leaving the cuffs dangling from his bed posts just in case there was a round two in his future. He rolled the sticky condom off his member and tossed into a nearby trash bin, a relaxed sigh slipping between his parted lips. You peeled the black mask off of your eyes, finally able to meet his again. 

He was staring at you with eyes filled with all kinds of emotions — the emotions that he’d been too afraid to admit to the first time the two of you were together. But he wasn’t afraid of commitment anymore, he was absolutely certain about what he wanted, and it was you. 

“Stay with me,” He asked, his eyes pleading with you, “I’m ready this time, I promise. I’m all yours, if you’ll have me”. 

You found a small smile tugging at the edges of your lips as you looked deeper into his eyes, “Of course I’ll stay, as long as you still feel this way when you wake up sober tomorrow”. 

“I’ll feel this way forever,” He pressed his head into you and mumbled into your chest, “And I’ll remind you as many times as you need to hear it”. 

You wrapped your arms around him in response, the two of you fitting impeccably together. He placed a few gentle kisses to your skin before his breathes began to slow. You found your own breathing to be evening out, your cloudy thoughts pushing you closer and closer to sleep. The two of you slowly drifted off together, your heavy breaths falling perfectly in sync.

[hansolmates]

here comes the bride, all dressed in pride

summary; You and your cousin Doyeon have had beef with each other since the sandbox. When she plucks the last straw, you decide to end your long-simmering fight by claiming that you and her ex—Jeon Jungkook, are now boyfriend and girlfriend pairing; jungkook x reader (f) genre/warnings; fake dating!au, fluff, crack, mentions of cheating, lang, alcohol, mc eats meat, tw sexual harassment, toxic family, dick talk, making out, if u have that one family member that pulls bs on you constantly this is it, this fic is for all the people who have a huge ass family who wont leave them alone w.c; 17.3k  a/n: my second fic for gcn’s 23 birthday project! the fact that wedding szn zoomed by us like that... and so bc im sad that so many weddings had to be postponed this fic was born! a huge thank u to vivi @eerieedits​ / @chillingtae​​ for creating this BEAUTIFUL fic banner and separator pls check vivi out to make your fics all purty

prompts used: “You’ve always been beautiful to me, don’t you know that?” and “I never knew love could be like this, feel like this.”

if you enjoyed this pls consider giving a like and a share💕💕

Doyeon likes to call Jungkook, “the one who got away.” 

You like to call Doyeon, “the one who drove him away.” 

In secret, of course. In fact, the only person who knows how much you loathe Doyeon and her behavior is your father. And all your co-workers. And your boss. And your boss’ ex-husband. 

And Jeon Jungkook, but of course you haven’t seen the man in two years and back then he was far too polite to address his concerns of your hatred of his then-girlfriend. 

Okay, so everyone and their mother knows how much you don’t like your cousin. Kim Doyeon and you have had beef since the sandbox, and for whatever reason is always out to one-up you. A strange competitive nature in everything, academics, family, and even boys. The sick, twisted part of you has come to enjoy it. While you’re not a fighter as devout as Doyeon is, you have your own callous tendencies farmed from the seeds Doyeon has planted in your brain. She gives you a comment? You can’t help but throw one back. Since you’re a painfully mature soul you don’t have any mortal enemies as far as you know, Doyeon is the perfect amount of hot water to keep you on your toes. 

“I’m really sorry that you couldn’t be a bridesmaid,” Doyeon cooes next to you, swirling her champagne glass with a too-jutted pout, “but if I did there’d be an odd number of pairings and you’re a little too old to be walking as a bridesmaid, am I right?” 

Your nails. Are digging. Through your dress. Alas, you’re in public and you have class. Doyeon smiles at you with all teeth, reminding you of the Beldam from Coraline. Aside from that she looks absolutely stunning in that Lirika Matoshi strawberry dress that has her Instagram aching with likes and love from her baseless followers. 

“I don’t know,” you reply lightly, leaning back in your seat, “I mean, if Yoojung and Rena can be bridesmaids and they’re three years older than me, wouldn’t I make the cut? It’s okay to be honest and say you just didn’t want me in the bridal party.” 

Doyeon laughs, slaps your thigh like you told her the most hilarious joke in the world. Anyone passing by would think you’re best friends. You laugh too, incredulous at the amount of power she thinks she holds. 

“Nice party,” you tack on, surveying the room. It’s filled with pastels and beiges, bright and airy.  It’s Parisian themed, and while you’re not a fan of theming cultures, you can’t deny that you’re loving the infinite supply of macarons. 

“Oh, yes. This is just a taste of the real wedding,” she laces her fingers together, as if she thinks she’s living an Elizibethean love story, “speaking of, you put on your RSVP that you’re bringing a plus one. Am I allowed to know who’s the unlucky date?” 

“As if you care.” 

“I care if you’re bringing Jimin. That tiny thing nearly gave Aunt Lillian a heart attack when he gave a striptease at Yoongi’s graduation party.” 

You smirk softly at the bold memory. That was the plan. 

Doyeon sighs dramatically, crossing her legs and popping out a cherry red heel. She plays with the back on the balls of her feet, letting the little pearly rhinestones glisten in the candlelight, “I should really commend you, cousin,” she drawls, “I mean, how kind of you to be so charitable and give your dopey friends a chance to have fun. After all, I’m sure it is difficult for someone like you to find a date.” 

It’s no surprise as to how you end up with a date at any family formal gathering. You say you bring a plus one, and then between Jimin, Taehyung and Hoseok. The three of them draw straws as to who gets to gorge on free alcohol and food for that night. 

“Difficult?” you arch a brow, “I get plenty of dates.” 

Doyeon giggles. She must be feeling extra vindictive today, high on her impending marriage and the taste of bubbly champagne. “By taking turns with those three? You gotta be kidding me,” she snorts, tipping back her crystal, “please y/n. Don’t get so defensive because I’m getting married first. Your time will come. That is, if you stop dicking around with your friends.” 

Normally you’d smother any attempt at Doyeon to call out your friends, but now she’s just done that and insulted your ability to get some, and you are livid. 

“Actually,” you quip sharply, “I’ve been dating someone. It’s been a couple months, actually.” 

“Oh?” Doyeon’s genuinely interested, face falling slightly, “you’ve never mentioned anyone, I don’t see anyone on your social media.” 

“Yeah well,” you feign sympathy, pressing your lips together and tilting your head accordingly, “I’ve had to keep it private for a couple of reasons.” 

“What, is he ugly or something?” she chuckles, “but really, who’s the person who has the misfortune of being in a committed relationship with you?” 

Maybe it’s because Doyeon’s right, the both of you are too old. The two of you have been running around each other for years, with no end in sight. Maybe, the words that linger on the tip of your tongue will be the final nail in the coffin. 

“Jeon Jungkook,” you state proudly, clear as day. “Jungkook and I have been dating for three months.” 

And you pick up the vanilla macaron that sits innocently on your plate, ravishing it up like it contained all the tension in your table. Between you and Doyeon’s bubble, you could hear a pin drop. 

“Jungkook?” her smile is concrete-solid, “my Jungkook?” 

“My Jungkook,” you correct, giving her a puppy-eyed look, “I’m really sorry I never told you. I mean, is there ever a right time to tell your cousin they’re dating their ex-boyfriend?” you laugh, either to lighten the mood or because you love the way Doyeon pinches her face, you don’t know.

“How did you two even meet?” 

“We reconnected through Seokjin. You know how the two of them play Starcraft together, I just ended up joining the call and he was so funny and nice. We just sorta… felt it.” Doyeon nods like a slow bobblehead, still comprehending in her pea-sized brain, “I just hope it isn’t too awkward. I know it’s been awhile but, if you really don’t want Jungkook to come I can always take Hoseok or something.” 

“No, it’s fine,” Doyeon says a little too quickly, masking on her picture-perfect smile. “I’m with Namjoon now, and I’m totally happy. Water under the bridge, it’ll be totally fine.” 

“Really?” your eyes practically sparkle, thankful for the amount of glitter and highlighter you’ve dumped on your face today, “I really appreciate it, Yeonie.” 

And she quickly downs her champagne glass, and gets up from her seat. It’s haunting, the way she gets up, pink tulle billowing around her ankles. “I have to attend to the other guests,” she says. 

“Of course,” you raise your glass.

“But, be careful,” she gives you a little smile, one filled with a last-ditch attempt at a jab, “Jungkook, he’s a little hard to deal with.” 

“Oh don’t worry. I know how to deal with Jungkook’s hardness,” you wink, and Doyeon’s face falls like a ton of bricks. 

“That’s not what I meant.” 

“I know,” you shrug loftily, “that’s what I meant, though.” 

And you don’t bother watching Doyeon stomp off the metaphorical stage, double fisting two new glasses of champagne from an awaiting butler as she finds some other poor guest to pick on. Now, the matter of securing your date. Conveniently so, the most important man in the room is walking your way, and you manage to snag his tie just as he passes your table. 

“Ow—ow! I’m choking!” Seokjin grabs, nearly throwing his tall body onto your lap, hands grappling to release the tension on his neck. “Leave me alone, woman! I just wanted to get some chicken tenders!” 

“Jin,” you say sweetly, opening his blazer to retrieve his phone, “I need Jeon’s number, now.” 

“Jungkook?” your favorite cousin pales, eyes widening as you take out your phone of your own, copying down the digits, “what did you do?” 

“Don’t ask questions.” 

Seokjin says your name again, firmer. “You’re playing with fire.” 

“It’ll be fine, it’s the last time,” you quell, already knowing how much Seokjin hates being in the middle of your fights. Once you’ve secured the phone number, you place Seokjin’s phone back into his pocket, patting his breast. “Thank you. You know you’re my favorite cousin, you know that?” 

He grumbles a “damn right I am” before stomping away, resuming his race for his chicken tenders. 

You: hey jeon it’s y/n. I see you’re doing great, i saw on instagram that you released your first app w/yoongi! Totally amazing, been playing for weeks, really upset that i can’t get past the flaming frog boss :((

You: Feel free to ignore this, i won’t blame you if you do. Im at doyeon’s rehearsal dinner, and she basically snubbed my friends and said i couldn’t get some prime dick even though im?? Me??? Anyway, im tired of her shit so im gonna throw it back at her, one last time before she ties the knot. I told her you and i have been dating, and im bringing you as my date to her wedding. Really sorry, the demons took over my brain and made the worst and best comeback of my life. So… if you’re up for being the hottest couple on the floor in three weeks and showing how madly in love we are, please text me back? Or not. You might think this family is crazy and i accept partial responsibility. 

You: I’ll buy u every meal for every practice date we have if u agree.💕💕💕

Jeon Jung-boo-thang: thanks, i appreciate that. To defeat the frog boss, go back to the coconut cave and find the garnet garter. It absorbs his fire and u can easily defeat froggo w any level 15 weapon

Jeon Jung-boo-thang: and as for the real reason u texted me. Im in. let’s get pork belly tomorrow. 

Two years ago, you were surprised that Doyeon could manage to snag a man as fine as Jeon Jungkook. Also unsurprised, because Doyeon is gorgeous and could snag any man she wanted, and has snagged every man she wanted. 

Jungkook was different though. He had an air of innocence to him. He loved her, a little too much to be safe. Your heart would betray you every time you would find him at a family gathering, making her plate and counting the calories she so meticulously measured. How can someone so sweet be with someone like Doyeon? 

Your heart ached for Jungkook when they broke up a year later. From what you heard, Doyeon was Jungkook’s first serious girlfriend. And then you wanted to rip your heart out a week later when you caught Doyeon smooching with her favorite graduate professor Kim Namjoon, wanting to erase any possibility you’d have at love. At that time, you never wanted to feel the pain you imagined Jungkook was going through. 

“Y/n! Over here!” you’re a little taken aback at how much has not changed in Jungkook. His eyes still sparkle like fresh dew, his smile is still pearly white and infectious. He’s even early, snagging a table at his favorite barbeque place and waiting for you as if he is the one organizing your first date. 

At the same time, there’s so much that’s changed about him. He’s confident, even going so far as to walk over to you and slip your jacket and purse in his grasp like a gentleman. He leads you by putting a hand lightly at the small of your back, making you feel impossibly small in comparison to his Dorito-shaped body, broad shoulders and a deliciously trim waist. 

“How was the walk over?” 

“Not too bad,” the conversation is casual, easy. You wipe the sweat off your forehead with a napkin. “Could use a little exercise now and again. I did eat a whole tray of macarons at that rehearsal dinner.” 

Jungkook laughs from his belly, causing you to smile. “Nonsense. You look great, by the way,” you don’t mind it, actually, you enjoy it when his eyes rake over your body. After all, he’s now your boyfriend and he needs to get familiar with all the important bits. He leans his arms forward, bracing him against the wooden table so his face is closer to yours. 

“You’re not doing too bad yourself,” your eyes gloss over the veins and intricate tattoos that paint his muscled upper half. Your smile morphs into a smirk, letting him know you’re enjoying the view just as well as he is. 

And as soon as the tension sparks, it ends just as fast when your waiter comes up to light your grill. 

“So,” Jungkook wastes no time in decorating your stove, making sure to add all the appropriate aromatics and infusions to season your lunch, “do you know why Doyeon and I broke up?” 

“Cheated on you with Namjoon, I assume,” you keep your eyes trained on the darkening meat. 

Jungkook slips a piece of meat in his mouth. Any expression of pain (whether it be from Doyeon or the barely cooked meat) doesn’t reveal itself as he stops to take a sip of water. “Who else knows?” 

“Just me and Seokjin. The family loved you too much and Doyeon made up some sob story about how you two were going different life paths.” 

He chuckles to himself, taking great care in flipping the meat. “I really was a fool in love, wasn’t I?” 

“It… was mildly cute.” 

“Tell me the truth, you have no reason not to.” 

“Okay, you made me want to vomit rainbows and glitter every time I saw you.”

The two of you laugh, faces crinkling shamelessly as the two of you busy yourselves with setting up the table. Most of the food is done and the aroma of fresh onions wafts around your grill. As you place chopsticks on his side of the table, you think about all the times Jungkook made it abundantly clear how much he loved Doyeon: the love letters tucked into her purse, 100 day anniversaries, even just a simple Americano for her in the morning. 

“Is that why you never hung out with us?” 

“No,” you reply lightly, “Doyeon made it clear that I shouldn’t talk to you.” 

Jungkook frowns, “You really don’t like each other, do you.” 

You shrug, “Just always been like that,” you quirk a smile when Jungkook places the freshly cooked meat on top of your rice before serving himself. 

“So what’s the plan?” 

“We go to the wedding, make out a little, get Doyeon boiling. Even if she’s not interested in you, she’d still be upset knowing we are together.” 

“And why is that?” 

“Because it’s me,” you grin into your glass, staring at a water-stained Jungkook through the blue tinted glass. “And all you have to do, is enjoy your night and look pretty.” 

His eyes crinkle, chopsticks pressing between his lips. “You think I look pretty?” 

With a roll of eyes you don’t respond, preferring to dig your chopsticks in your rice. No need to inflate Jungkook’s ego too soon. 

Pinning the main theme of your hangout to the side, the both of you dig into your meal. You throw conversation back and forth like pebbles, grains of sand that build and build until you’re caught up with each other’s lives. It feels so strange to admit it’s been two years since you’ve spoken to the man, and all of a sudden the once luscious meat feels dry in your mouth. 

“Jeon,” you put your chopsticks down, “are you sure you want to do this with me? I mean, I know it’s all my fault and I dragged you into it. Don’t feel obligated to agree to this.” 

“I’m a hundred-percent sure,” he doesn’t stop eating, shoving two spoonfuls of rice in his mouth. His cheeks puff up considerably, and your eyes trail down to his neck as he swallows, “I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t wanna.” 

“Right,” you don’t need a big explanation or a personal confession from Jungkook, just his consent. “Partners, Jeon?” you hold up your glass. 

“Partners,” he agrees easily. The smile on his face disarms you, a full-fledged grin decked with pearly whites. Clicking his glass to yours he adds, “And it’s Jungkook, babe.” 

Oh, this is going to be interesting. 

Seokjin thinks the two of you are the most boring fake-couple. 

His eyes dart back and forth between your spot on the couch and his desk, where Jungkook is currently seated. Seokjin is hovered over Jungkook, who’s typing and clicking furiously over his PC game. You’re on your phone, feet pulled up to the coffee table while some old Netflix movie plays in the background. To top it all off both of you didn’t even try to dress like it’s daytime, nearly matching in sweatpants and an oversized hoodie. It doesn’t look like a couple coming to visit Seokin, it looks like Jungkook is playing video games with Seokjin while his cousin hangs around like she owns the place. 

“Shouldn’t you guys like, I don’t know, go on dates or something?” Seokjin feels like he’s talking to the air. “Maybe get to know each other before the big day?” 

Pulling your phone down to your lap and Jungkook taking off his headphones, the two of you shrug at each other, “No, we’re good.” Jungkook says. 

“We know enough,” you agree cooly, “Jungkook likes Valorant.” 

“I do like Valorant.” 

“He likes pork belly.”

“I do like pork belly.” 

“He’s ripped as hell.” 

“I am ripped as hell.” 

“Okay but have you guys kissed yet?” Seokjin interjects, probably compensating for the nonchalance in the room with his own brand of freaking out. You two only see each other when you’re hanging out at Seokjin’s apartment, and while he’s happy that you two aren’t doing the whole 9-yards and creating an elaborate scheme, the both of you are almost too relaxed. His anxiety is spiking.

“Yes,” Jungkook answers, “at the barbeque place we went to.” 

“It was nice," you tack on, "Jin, we got this. Don't worry." 

"How can I not worry when you're trying to upset our cousin on her wedding day?" he's sweating in his fully air-conditioned apartment. “I get that she’s the devil’s spawn and everything, but she’s still a human being.” 

“In second grade she pushed me on the treadmill because I was going too slow. I got caught on the roller and got a bald spot for two months.” 

“Okay yes one bad example—” 

“And in senior year she accused me of plagiarizing her essay just because we chose the same topic. I almost didn’t get into college!” Seokjin sighs, crossing his arms. All valid points, and arguing with you isn’t a route he wants to take. “Jin, the point is that she’s constantly pushing my buttons. I’ve always been the bigger person and now that I’m old and confident I just want one jab.”

“That’s valid,” Jungkook pipes up, pressing the spacebar a few times, “I want a jab too, she cheated on me.” 

“See? It’s a mutual decision.” 

Seokjin asks, “Why aren’t you more worried about this?”

"Because Doyeon isn't going to chew me out on her wedding day," you checked your aunt's seating chart last week and you are far, far away from the bridal table. "We're just going to show off a little bit. Get drunk, eat some bomb steak. Break up in three months or less.”

"You don't have to just convince Doyeon, it's your entire family! Not to mention you also have to go to the bachelor party!" 

"Oh I almost forgot," you reach under the couch for your laptop, "Jungkook, in two weekends from now we're flying to Las Vegas for the bachelor party and wedding. I'll buy your ticket now." 

"Thanks, babe!” Jungkook sends a cheeky grin to Seokjin, who is unimpressed. “See? I remember to call her babe.” 

“Alright, get out of my house,” Seokjin tugs Jungkook away from his computer, causing the younger man to swivel around in his plush gaming chair. 

Jungkook frowns at the monitor, “But I’m still bronze one. I’m aiming for silver one by this weekend.” 

“Don’t care. As much as I don’t like this plan, I’m not letting you two slip-up.” Seokjin pulls out his phone, revealing Doyeon’s Instagram story, “Doyeon and Namjoon are at the mall buying swimsuits for Vegas. Go to the mall and ‘accidentally’ run into them.”

You sit up straight, tilting your head to the side. “That’s not a bad idea, actually,” you bound over to grab your jacket, giving Seokjin a big fat kiss on his cheek, “Thanks Jinnie, do you know you’re—”

“I’m your favorite cousin. Yeah whatever, bye.” He waves you off, plopping in his own chair so he can enjoy his games in peace. 

“I’m driving,” Jungkook declares, swiping your keys from Seokjin’s opal dish. 

“Oh, hell no,” you jump on your tippy toes to reach Jungkook’s grasp on your keys, but he’s so freakishly tall there’s no way you can reach. “I drive my car!” 

“I’ve always wanted to drive your car back then,” Jungkook cooes, leaning in so your noses touch. “C’mon, you can trust me.” 

“You two are gross already,” Seokjin admonishes from the other side of the room, “see, it’s working!” 

Poking his cheek so he gives you some space, you whip your head to hide the flush that burns on your cheeks. “Fine, but if you crash you’re buying me a new one.” 

“They’re over there,” you hiss between the racks, shuffling between the plastic hangers to point to Doyeon and Namjoon at the women’s section of the store. They look disgustingly adorable together, with Doyeon pointedly telling Namjoon which swimsuit suits his stature better while Namjoon nods along and goes with whatever she says. You crouch down lower, fearing Namjoon’s tall frame would catch you. “Now we just gotta act all couple-y and they’ll notice us. Or maybe we can walk over to them? What do you wanna do?” 

“Do you think we should get matching swimsuits?” Jungkook pays no mind to your sleuthing, holding up a red pair of swim trunks to his thighs, “we could pretend to be sexy lifeguards.” 

You tilt your head away from the pair, only because Jungkook has been genuinely interested in this store since you’ve arrived. Putting a hand under your chin, you scrutinize the dark red cutoff shorts. “They’re cute,” you nod appreciatively, “It’ll make your thighs look thick.” 

Jungkook’s grip on his hanger lowers, and he regards you with dark eyes. “You think my thighs look thick?” he asks, leaning in and putting one hand on the curve of your waist. His fingers dance on the surface of bare skin between your top and jeans, and while you’ve agreed beforehand that you two could touch each other wherever in public, it still surprises you when gooseflesh rises to the surface.

“Easy there, tiger,” you chuckle, putting a hand on his chest to stop his sudden bout of flirting. “I’m just stating the facts, we get it. You lift.” 

“You’re so cute when you try to put your guard up,” he’s brushing noses with you now, and you feel the plastic of the hanger crumple pathetically between you two as the gap closes further. “But you can’t hide from me.”

And just as his lips move to press against yours, a shrill “Jungkook!” echoes throughout the large store.

You nearly flop over the boardshorts rack if not for Jungkook’s arms secured around your waist. Oh right, you think dumbly, this is all for show. Doyeon and Namjoon are right in front of you, purchases already made and looking at you two in curiosity. Well, Namjoon is definitely curious, because you know for a fact that Doyeon speaks very little of you to him and you’ve only conversed with him a handful of times. Doyeon on the other hand, looks a little stiff in the grin. 

“Hello to you too,” you remark to Doyeon, who’s barely acknowledged you. You reach over to squeeze Namjoon’s arm, “Hi Joonie,” you crinkle your eyes, and you fight back a squeal when he smiles back with dimples. Doyeon has such a cute fiancé, and if you’re keeping score he’s way too good for her. 

Doyeon’s eyes glaze over to where you’ve touched Namjoon, and she links her arms with his. “What a coincidence, you two are buying swimsuits where we’re buying swimsuits.” 

“Well, there’s only one mall in this town and we’re going on the same trip in two weeks,” you reply blandly, and you feel Jungkook pinch your side. “Oh, Namjoon. Have you met my boyfriend Jungkook?”

“Can’t say that I have,” Namjoon reaches over to clasp Jungkook’s hand, “nice to meet you, man.” 

While Namjoon and Jungkook exchange small talk, you pointedly ignore the waves of negativity Doyeon sends your way in favor of observing the two large men. Namjoon just said it was nice to meet him, therefore he has no clue who Jungkook is. Interesting, considering Doyeon two-timed in favor of Namjoon. It gets you a little antsy, and you wonder if Namjoon is faking this whole interaction or if Doyeon is hiding something. 

“Baby,” Jungkook rests a hand on your shoulder, regarding you with concern, “you spaced out there, are you okay?” 

“She’s like that, Jungkookie,” Jungkook gently presses your shoulders down, blocking your view of Doyeon as she regards your not-boyfriend as Jungkookie. “My cousin’s a bit of an airhead,” her tone is sweet and jesting, the backhanded jab going right above Namjoon’s head. 

“I’m just hungry,” you say, forcing a tight-lipped smile. 

“Well, that’s perfect,” Namjoon clasps his hands together, “Yeonie and I were just about to go grab some dinner. Why don’t you join us?”

Doyeon and you both reply immediately, “That really isn’t necessary—” 

“Nonsense,” you don’t even have the heart to be upset at Namjoon because he looks so damn genuine, “It’s been two years and I haven’t even bought you a meal, y/n. After all, we’re going to be family at the end of the month.” 

“Right,” you answer reluctantly. 

“We’re gonna make reservations at the Cheesecake Factory,” he pulls out his phone, ready to make a call, “but you and Jungkook can finish shopping, okay? The wait will be a little long but by the time you’re done our table should be ready.” 

You and Jungkook wave off Doyeon and Namjoon as they make their way to the restaurant. Your hand is caught in the air by Jungkook, who regards you with worry in his eyes. “I wasn’t kidding when I said you looked spaced out,” he says, “tell me what you were really thinking.” 

Subconsciously, you squeeze his palm for comfort. “I don’t know, it just feels weird knowing Namjoon doesn’t seem to know you at all. Normally Doyeon loves to talk shit about her exes.” 

Jungkook scoffs easily, “I mean, if she’s marrying the guy I’m sure she doesn’t want to let him know the details of how they ended up together.” 

“True,” you decide to let it go, and follow Jungkook to the register to pay for his swim trunks. 

“So,” the little ‘ding’ of the register opens up the money box, and Jungkook quickly hands the clerk his cash, “we’re having dinner with them after this?” 

“Only if you want to.”

“We need to, right?” Jungkook thanks the clerk, holding the bag in one hand and threading his fingers through yours as you head out the store. 

“Well, do you want to?” you ask again. Jungkook stops the two of you on the sidewalk. It isn’t a fast stop, but a slow down that makes his walk a little more thicker, more deliberate as he trudges you down the lane. You move in front of him, clutching your hands between his. “Are you okay? You barely even acknowledged Doyeon.” 

“I’m fine,” you flinch at his harsh tone, and he immediately moves to remedy it by squeezing your hand back. “I’m sorry. It’s just been awhile and I’m definitely over her but,” he bows his head, feeling embarrassed, “she hurt me, you know?” 

Going into this is definitely one of the more selfish plans you’ve put your mind to. Your heart pangs thinking about what must be going through everytime he sees her. If he’s reminded about all the good times they shared, or how much he’s over thought every single conversation he’s had with her up until this point.

“Of course,” you completely understand, knowing from the beginning that this whole mess would end up with some dicey feelings someway or another. “I’m just thankful you chose to stick by me. And we can talk about it if you’re comfortable,” both of you being victims of Doyeon’s brand of torture, you hope the two of you can at least be friends after all of this is over, “we don’t have to go have dinner with them.” 

“But, Namjoon got us a table—” 

“Namjoon will be fine. We can always have dinner with him another time,” you smile softly, “what matters is that you’re okay.” 

His gaze melts, and you feel his grip loosen in your hold. He regards you with weak eyes, betraying the confidence he held himself to moments before. “Thanks, y/n,” he says, “I really appreciate that.” 

“Anytime,” you reply honestly. “We can go to Cheesecake and order to-go. I can make some excuse about how my stomach hurts and that we should do a raincheck.” 

“Sounds good.” 

“Do you wanna eat at one of our places or eat at the park or something?” you’re already pulling up your phone, checking out the menu. “We could invite Jin too.” 

“The park sounds nice,” neither of you acknowledge the fact that you’re not inviting Seokjin, and for some reason that’s okay.

“Yeah,” you agree simply, “the weather’s beautiful.” 

Under any normal circumstances, you would’ve been friends with someone like Jeon Jungkook, easily. A little part of you wishes that you could’ve met Jungkook first, but Doyeon has better connections than you and always had a good crowd around despite her inner motivations. No awkward exchange happens when you suggest to Jungkook to eat together. Even though you’re not technically dating, the two of you know that eating together is better than eating alone.

And you have to admit Jungkook’s great company. The two of you drive to a reserve nearby, overlooking a tiny lake. Instead of a fancy Italian tablecloth the two of you move your car seats down and set a spare picnic blanket in the trunk. Instead of a candlelit dinner the two of you find some emergency electric tealights in the glove compartment, lighting it up between you two as you dig into your to-go boxes. 

You’re a little envious that so much time has passed by. You could’ve been a little sneakier and made a better effort to communicate with Jungkook when you saw him regularly at family parties, and maybe you two would have a better friendship today. Nevertheless, the two of you mesh like peanut butter and jelly, exchanging conversation that has your cheeks sore from smiling too hard. 

By the time you get to dessert, the moon is out and the stars are floating above your heads. The two of you are at war, fighting with your forks over the last strawberry in your cheesecake slice. After some careful stabbing Jungkook manages to nab it with his fork. 

He almost puts it in his mouth, but instead swipes up some whipped cream to press the last strawberry to your lips. 

“I think it’s working,” Jungkook says randomly as you chew the sweet fruit, “you could see it on Doyeon’s face today. She’s unsettled.” 

“Yeah,” you agree, lying down on the lavender gingham picnic blanket. 

“Do you know why she fights with you all the time?” 

“That’s a question I’ve been asking myself since the dawn of time.”

“I think I know why.” Jungkook looks down at you with his large doe eyes, licking innocently on a spoon of whipped cream. 

“Pray tell.” 

“She’s jealous of you.” 

“No,” you disagree easily, “she’s jealous that I have you.” 

“Bzzt! Wrong,” Jungkook puts his empty container in your makeshift trash can, falling beside you and knitting his hands under his head. You have a little window on the roof of your car, so both of you are able to stare at the navy sky, “she’s always been jealous of you. Think about it. The two of you have similar lifestyles: same career path, confidence, taste, education. But even after all of that? People still like you more.” 

You scoff, hands immediately reaching to fiddle with the frayed corner of fabric next to your fingers. “I don’t think so.” 

“I’ve met all of Doyeon’s friends,” he informs you, “they’re weird. Like yeah, they care about each other on the surface level. But they’re nothing of substance. They’re not like your friends.” 

“Please, Doyeon has everything she could ever want,” you don’t know what kind of complex you have supporting Doyeon’s life, but something deep and insecure wants to separate you two as far away from each other as possible. “Like… she’s Malibu Barbie and I’m Polly Pocket.” 

Jungkook turns to face you, resting his head between his palm and leaning on his elbow. “Do you not think you’re beautiful?” 

“Yeah, but compared to Doyeon—” 

“You’ve always been beautiful to me, don’t you know that?”

You choke on your saliva, feeling small and skittish at the implication behind his words. It’s been two years. You’ve only been friends for two weeks. How can he possibly say that? 

“I uh, saw you once,” Jungkook coughs, and you watch the way his pale cheeks unmatch the moon and instead flit to a crimson hue, “we were at some party and you were wearing this really cute black dress with a white bow in the middle. Doesn’t even matter what party because it was random, y’know? I was gonna go talk to you but Doyeon got to me first and well, the rest is history.” He breaks eye contact with you, unable to handle it. 

You remember that party, vaguely. It was random, some sort of poetry slam in a shady part of town. Doyeon and you didn’t even go with each other, you were with Taehyung and she just happened to stumble in there from another nearby party. You didn’t even know Jungkook was there that night, or how you were a hair's breadth away from meeting him before Doyeon. 

“Don’t ever think you’re lesser than her just because out of all the people she chose to pick on, she chose you. It’s why she never lets you get to know her boyfriends. She’s threatened by you because you’re just as special,” something low sparks in your chest at his words,  “and now that you’ve finally decided to stoop to her level and fight back with a taste of her own medicine, she doesn’t know what to do.” 

Feeling like your body is on a beach and you’re sinking in sand, you soften over your picnic blanket, mulling it over. “Did I make the right choice? Stooping down to her level.” Your voice is quiet, comparable to the chirping birds and buzzing gnats outside. 

“We won’t know until after the wedding,” Jungkook answers honestly, “but I do know I’m sticking with you until the end. We’re friends now, got that? You have no excuse to ignore me anymore.” 

You don’t want to ignore Jungkook, never in a million years. Now you know that you are envious of Doyeon, for having an opportunity to love and care for an amazing person like him. So in a sudden bout of emotion, you roll over to straddle Jungkook’s waist. 

He’s shocked, hands flying to your waist to make sure you don’t wobble off. But you’re determined, and lean down to press your lips against his. He tastes like cheesecake and strawberries, the taste melding with your own as you relish in the feeling of his soft lips against yours. You melt a little when he squeaks, breaking into a soft moan as he reciprocates the gesture. He’s warm and large and he makes you feel safe. Once your brain returns to your body, you break for air. You only pull back a few centimeters, and there’s no way for you to get off because Jungkook has locked you in place. 

“What was that for?” he asks breathlessly. 

“Don’t know,” you’re whispering against his lips, unable to pull away, “just felt like we needed a little more practice.” 

He blinks, before relaxing in a silly smile. “I agree,” he says simply, dipping you on your back so he can be on top the second time around. 

“We’re in Vegas, baby!” 

Every single terrible comedy movie set in Las Vegas has brought you to this very moment. You’ve always wanted to say that line. Dumping your luggage next to Jungkook’s, you flop on the nearest mattress. Thank goodness you only wore leggings and a t-shirt on the flight, it’s the optimal sleeping outfit after a long day. Feeling something hard and plastic dig into your brain, you hold up the culprit and squeal excitedly. “Look, Kook!” you wave the crinkly confection in your hands, “they put mints on the pillows!” 

Despite your room being a square with two queen beds, the hotel does not skimp on quality. The decor is ornate, the white and gold trim on the doorknobs and metal appliances shimmering beautifully. The beds feel like clouds, as you try to imagine what a cloud could possibly feel like, this is it. 

Jungkook immediately follows suit, ripping off his outer clothes until he’s left in his undershirt and boxers, flopping next to you on the mattress. He immediately opens his mouth when you shoot a mint, catching it easily. “I feel like we’re in a deleted scene of Crazy Rich Asians,” he says, letting the hard mint clink around his teeth, “is this the part where you tell me your family comes from old money and I’m gonna be your sugar baby?” 

“Don’t be so hopeful,” you narrow your eyes, booping his button nose with your finger. 

“I’m just saying, the first class flight threw me off.” 

You giggle, slapping his chest, “No. If that was true, we wouldn’t be sharing a room with my cousin. Sorry you have to share the bed with me, I got the hotel with Jin and he doesn’t want to sleep with you.”

“S’okay,” Jungkook replies softly, leaning closer to make grabby hands at you, “you’re softer.” 

Tentatively, you scooch over so you can lean on Jungkook’s chest. You two have a little time before Doyeon and Namjoon’s combined bachelor and bachelorette party. The past two weeks have been nice—scratch that, the past two weeks with Jungkook have been wonderful. You never cared to measure how much time passed before meeting him, but now that you’ve begun fake-dating, time is the only thing you regard. You’re already beginning to miss him, knowing that in a week, this whole arrangement will be over.

Well, not exactly over. Jungkook says you’ll remain friends after this, but you don’t really want that. You want more, and it scares you to think he may not feel the same. 

But right now you’re snuggling like an old couple, sleeping comfortably between pillow-like sheets and minty breath. Your pretend boyfriend, now your pretend boyfriend with benefits, looks soft and huggable and you want to bottle up this moment forever. You say benefits because, well, the cuddling is an added bonus. Practice practice practice, Jungkook sing songs the words you used that one night under the stars, excuses to seal his lips to your lips. You’ll never argue with that. So when Jungkook’s hand tightens around your waist and pulls you closer, you relent. 

One second, you’re closing your eyes and the next, you’re waking up to Seokin’s wide eyes staring back at you. 

“Eep, you creepo!” you shriek, scrambling away from him. That’s when you realize Jungkook’s missing from bed, the scent of his laundry detergent lingering between the eggshell Egyptian cotton. 

“Jungkook’s in the shower,” Seokjin immediately reads your mind, pulling away so he can unpack his luggage. “My flight just got in two hours ago, you both were out like a light when I arrived.”

“Ugh, I’m really not ready to party.” 

“Doyeon just texted the family group chat. She reserved the rooftop, the party starts in an hour,” he talks mindlessly, rifling through his stuff. Seokjin is fiddling with his clothes, despite the fact that you know Seokjin prepares his outfits days in advance so he doesn’t have to choose. He looks concerned, pulling out a flamingo pink boardshort and setting it down on his mattress. Finally he says, “I’m worried about you.” 

“Why?” 

“Because. It’s clear that you’re starting to fall for Jungkook.” 

The words strike you straight in the place you’re trying to avoid. You’ve been living in a fantasy these past two weeks, thinly veiled by the whole reason you two are together in the first place. Doyeon’s wedding is just around the corner, and what then? 

“I’m not saying that he doesn’t feel anything for you either,” that gets your heart skipping a beat, and you secretly hold a hand to your chest under the blankets, “but do you really want to start off a relationship like this? A relationship all messy and morally objective because it’s built on revenge?” 

“Don’t worry about me,” the words easily fall from your lips, “I can take care of this.” 

“I hate it when you say that,” the words are curt and harsh against Seokjin’s plush lips, “I’m allowed to worry about you, y/n. You know why? Because, because you’re my favorite cousin too,” he bites his lip, walking over so he sits on your side of the bed. “So don’t tell me what I can and can’t worry about. I want you to be happy, I want you to stop holding in this anger you have for Doyeon and move on.” 

“I’m sorry,” you whisper, leaning over to press your cheek against Seokjin’s shoulder. “You’re right.” 

“For the first time in a long time, you’ve finally decided to lean on someone,” and both of you know who that someone is. “I don’t want you to lose him over some petty family issue. You should tell him how you feel.” 

“I will,” you wrap your arms around your cousin’s slim waist in a silent thanks. 

“Am I interrupting a tender family moment?” 

The two of you pull away to stare at Jungkook, leaning against the doorframe that leads to the bathroom. He’s in a plain white t-shirt and the red board shorts that you bought at the mall, cutting off mid-thigh and revealing the bulky muscle underneath. You were right, the shorts do make his thighs look thick. 

Seokjin groans exaggeratedly. “Yes, yes you did.” 

Jungkook immediately goes to replace Seokjin’s spot, and some stray droplets fall fresh from the shower due to his slicked-back hair. “Do you wanna get ready? First party’s soon.” 

“Not really,” you admit, “you’re gonna meet the family all over again.” 

“Second time’s the charm,” he winked, “I’ve already met your parents and everything. Not feeling nervous at all.” 

“Oh, really?” 

“Really,” and the facade cools down a little, “well, maybe a little nervous for your Aunt Lillian. Her stares give me the heebie-jeebies.” 

“Don’t worry, I’ll protect you from Aunt Lillian.” 

“God the two of you get worse every day,” Seokjin has magically changed into his shorts, tucking himself into the bed, “don’t wake me up until we pre-game.” 

Doyeon and Namjoon don’t skimp on the festivities, although in taste the ideas are Doyeon’s in its entirety. It’s lavish and colorful, with a beautiful infinity pool in the middle decorated with lavender and pink headlights. There’s a buffet table overflowing with tasty food. There’s petal pink champagne overflowing from fountains, decorated with fresh strawberries bobbing around the fizzy drink. 

“I don’t know,” Namjoon and Jungkook have been talking for well over an hour, and it’s clear how well they mesh together. Heck, you’ve accepted that Jungkook may like Namjoon more than he likes you. Jungkook’s eyes sparkle as Namjoon discusses the various genres of rap and hip-hop music, explaining the potency of mature themes in a young community, “but I will say music is like another language, knows no boundaries when it comes to sending their messages to others.” 

You fight the urge to chuckle when Jungkook sighs dreamily at the music theory professor. “Wow, that’s so deep.” 

Getting up from your cabana, you nudge Seokjin, who’s currently flirting it up with one of Doyeon’s bridesmaids. “Hey, wanna get a drink?” you ask, throwing your wrap on the cushions to reveal your strappy red bikini. 

“And chicken tenders,” Seokjin presses a kiss to the bridesmaid’s cheek, bidding her goodbye as he follows you out of the shaded area. 

“Do you two lovebirds want anything?” you stare pointedly at Namjoon and Jungkook. While Namjoon’s eyes stay in contact with you, you can’t help but smile a little more when Jungkook has a hard time keeping his gaze in one place. 

“I think we’re fine,” Namjoon answers for both of them, swirling his beer bottle. “I’ll meet you two at the bar once I’m done.” 

“Sure thing,” Seokjin puts a hand on your back to lead you to one of the open bars. As much as you like being in a handsome hotel with money to burn, nothing beats the fact that your entire family is here to celebrate. The elders have corroborated two cabanas for poker and other games, while your younger cousins are playing ping pong and air hockey on the other side. 

“Namjoon sure is a dreamboat,” Seokjin bemoans, handing you an electric orange drink. You take a sip of it, and bug out when you realize it tastes nothing like alcohol. You’re definitely in for a night. “Like I can hear him wax music thingamajib any day.” 

“I thought you were into that bridesmaid.” 

“A mere diversion,” he sighs, leaning his tanned arms against the bar, “can’t ignore the deep voice Namjoon has, it’s intoxicating.” 

“I’m sure Jungkook would agree,” you egg on. 

“What are you two talking about?” you straighten up when the man of the hour shows up at the bar, absolutely glowing under the sunset. He orders a round for the three of you, and you immediately chug your own drink to get to the next one. 

“Talking about how you’re stealing Jungkook away from me,” you joke, accepting another fruity drink from Namjoon. Damn, this stuff tastes like candy. 

“Oh, never,” Namjoon replies brightly, waving the thought away, “do you see the way he looks at you? Hopelessly in love.” 

Maybe it’s the copious amounts of alcohol, but you feel your stomach flip-flop at the thought of love. You’ve always known what love felt like, the warmth of Namjoon’s cheeks whenever he sees Doyeon, when your mom takes care of you when you’re sick, when Seokjin makes sure you’re not emotionally constipated 24/7. But the thought of Jungkook and you in love? It’s a feeling you secretly yearn for. 

“Right? It’s disgusting,” Seokjin groans with an eye roll, “like, Jungkook wasn’t like that with Doyeon at all when they were together.” 

The slip up has the three of you choking on your own thoughts, staring at each other like the three have just been told you’re on a prank show. But it is no prank, and you look at Seokjin who’s absolutely horrified. 

“Oh shit,” he squeaks, looking at Namjoon guiltily, “did I say something I shouldn’t have said?” 

“I don’t know,” Namjoon replies coolly, “did you?” 

The ominous response gets you going, and you quickly place a hand on Namjoon’s arm, placating him. “They dated, yes. But it was only for a short time and we’ve sorted everything out. Nothing for you to worry about.” 

“Oh,” Namjoon quirks his head, and regards you two with pursed lips. “I’m not one of those guys who freak out over other people’s exes. I’m just surprised that I’ve only heard this now,” Namjoon takes a slow sip of his drink, and despite your drink also being cold and refreshing, you’re absolutely sweating. 

“Well, I’m sure Doyeon didn’t want to worry you.”

At the mention of his future wife, he beams. “You’re right, she’s considerate like that,” and the conversation ends just like that. He holds up his drink to the two of you, and you and Seokjin do the same. With a sharp clink he leaves you two to mull, happily conversing with the next round of guests he needs to entertain for the week. 

“That guy is too nice for his own good,” you shake your head, asking the bartender for your third drink within ten minutes. 

Seokjin leans over you and warbles, “So you’re telling me that Namjoon has no idea that Doyeon cheated on Jungkook in order to date him?” he’s sweating just like you are, following suit to your actions and asking to make his drink a double. 

“I don’t know,” you bite your lip, your teeth worrying the dark skin, “I’ve been thinking about it for a while though. I just don’t want to get involved, you know?” 

“But this is different!” 

“But Doyeon’s family!” 

“And all of a sudden you care about Doyeon’s feelings?” Seokjin gripes back, “it’s not about Doyeon, it’s about the both of them. And if we know something that Namjoon doesn’t, wouldn’t it be in our best interests to warn him before he seals a marriage deal that costs him over a zillion dollars?” he gestures to the extravagant wedding party. 

“But we don’t even have any proof that’s the case,” you frown, “Doyeon could have changed—a little, not a lot—since meeting Namjoon, maybe she thinks it’s best to reveal as little as possible.” 

Seokjin wonders what kind of family he has. One as chaotic as his takes a lot to stomach, and Seokjin likes to pride himself in his strong appetite. “Fine, let’s just keep a close eye on both of them this week. And if anything remotely fishy happens, we strike.” 

“Deal.” 

You return to the cabana alone, with a plate of fries for both you and Jungkook. Jungkook is also alone, laying on the lounge chair with his eyes closed. It gives you a chance to ogle your fake-boyfriend a little bit, reveling in the sight of his toned body. 

Setting down your plate with a sharp rap of the glass, Jungkook opens one eye. “Hey,” he smiles, drinking in your muted expression, “you okay?”

Damn Jungkook for being able to read you so well. “I think so. It’s nothing, really.” 

“Well, will you tell me if it’s something?” 

“Yeah, I will.” 

“So, I do have something to tell you though.” Jungkook sits up, regarding you wearily. “Can you… stand in front of me?” Confused, you shove a fry in your mouth and walk up to him as directed, your back blocking the entrance as you stand in front of him. “Okay, come closer. Now bend down,” you bend your back 90 degrees, and he presses a hand to your shoulder to stop you, “no, no. With your breasts out, just a little—there! Arch your back. Like you’re doing the Sorority Squat.” 

“Excuse me—” 

“The music isn’t even that loud,” he mutters to himself, “no one would need to push their boobs in my face to hear me.” 

“Jungkook, is someone pressing boobs to your face?” 

“Why,” he breaks into a playful grin, “jealous?”

“Not if it’s Aunt Lillian.” 

“Unfortunately it wasn’t,” he twiddles with the drawstrings of his shorts. “It was Doyeon.” 

Doyeon? She didn’t walk by your cabana all day. Heck, she barely greeted you when you arrived with Jungkook. But when Jungkook’s alone is when she decides to pounce? And with what motive? 

“I don’t know,” he’s rambling to himself, “maybe I’m overthinking it. It was only half a second.” 

“Jungkook, I have something to tell you,” you say instead, panic in your features. 

“Is it something urgent?” 

“Well, no but—” 

“Then tell me when we get back to the room,” Jungkook easily pulls you onto his lap, and you instantly heat up when you feel your bare butt press against Jungkook’s golden thighs. “Like you said, we’re in Vegas. Let’s have fun while we can.” 

“Okay,” you tuck your head between his neck and collarbone, reaching to press a kiss to his smooth jawline. 

Relaxing against the plush lounge chair Jungkook feeds you fries while talking about the things he wants to do this week. It’s his first time in Vegas and he wants to make the most of it. He wants to visit all the buffets he sees on Buzzfeed compilations, relax at the pool, maybe catch a show. The thought of spending all week with him and your family is nice, and suddenly you don’t feel so awkward sitting on his lap, and eventually he pulls you between his thighs so you can lay on his chest. 

“And between you and me,” he fake whispers against the shell of your ear, as if he’s telling you the biggest secret, “we’re the hottest couple here.” 

The next three days leading up to the wedding are relatively uninteresting. 

Uninteresting in the best way possible. On Monday you and Jungkook spend time with your little cousins, taking them to The Adventuredome, one of the resort's indoor theme parks. On Tuesday you and Jungkook go shopping at the outlet malls with your parents, blowing hundreds of dollars on cheap Levis that have your luggage bursting with a new wardrobe. In between all of that Seokjin and occasionally Namjoon joins you two in your buffet journey, hitting up the top spots and filling your tummies to the brim with delicious food. 

On Wednesday, Jungkook brandishes two gold-foiled tickets in front of you, waving them around like a fan. With one finger, he pushes away your Pokémon battle, “I got us tickets to Cirque du Soleil,” he announces proudly, “waited in line for an hour.”

You gape, scrambling off of your bed and throwing your Nintendo Switch to the side. “Jungkook,” you marvel, “these are so expensive. How’d you manage to get a show for tonight?” 

He shrugs, “Looked around.” 

“You’ve been impulse buying a lot this week,” you tease, “like really, you don’t need three pairs of the same ripped jeans.”

“This wasn’t an impulse buy,” he says, “I’ve been looking around for shows. Just managed to pick them up today, so go get dressed for our date.”

Did Jungkook just call it a date? Giddy with excitement you throw the covers off, running into the bathroom to get ready. What a surprise, you didn’t think Jungkook would be into spontaneous things like this. 

Seokjin left the bathroom open, so when you walk in the room it is steamy and warm. Your dear cousin is still in the shower, probably waiting for his conditioner to pass three minutes of set-in time. 

“What are you getting ready for?” Seokjin asks over the rain shower.

“Kook got us tickets to Cirque du Soleil,” you chirp happily, looking through your skin care products. 

“I wanna come!” 

“Nope! Jungkook called it a date.” 

“Oh, a date,” Seokjin drawls, putting his head under the water to rinse his hair clean. “Well then, should I vacate the room for tonight?” 

“What, no!” you’ve closed the door, so thankfully Jungkook can’t hear you talking about him. “We’re not doing anything. We’re just two friends who are fake-dating going on a date.” 

“Sounds like a real date, though,” Seokjin wraps a towel around himself to cover all his important bits before getting out of the shower, bumping elbows with you so he can brush his teeth. “Either way, I’ll be gone tonight. It’s my turn to watch the baby cousins. Don’t have too much fun while I'm in their room watching Despicable Me for the millionth time.” 

“We’ll be sure to stop by with some pizza or something,” you tease, a little wiggle in your hips when you vacate the bathroom. 

By the time you and Jungkook are ready, you two are dressed impeccably. Jungkook is wearing one of the ripped black jeans he bought on Tuesday, combined with a white button up and black blazer. A classic outfit with a little bit of Jungkook-themed flair. And to Jungkook’s surprise, you’re wearing the dress that he first saw you in, all those years ago. You’ve gained a little weight since college, but you still fill out the little black dress beautifully, the little white bow in the middle adding a simple yet adorable touch. It took a little sleuthing and searching through your old college clothes, but you were determined to find it when Jungkook reminded you how much you love the design. 

Clearly from the way Jungkook is currently gaping at you like a bloated fish, he loves it too. 

The show is beautiful and colorful, leaving you speechless and in tears by the end of it. Jungkook lets you hold his hand the entire time, feeling a bout of anxiety anytime the acrobats fall gracefully despite the large height. 

Overall, it was a wonderful show, paired with your equally enamouring date. It’s getting harder and harder to distinguish what’s fake and what’s real in your heart, and throughout the night you’re sorely reminded that you should tell Jungkook how you feel. 

But by the time you get to the room your parents are calling you, asking to get their suit and dresses out of the car so hotel service can do a last minute press and dry clean. 

“I’ll be back,” you say to Jungkook, “I need to go get their clothes out of the car. They’re always so forgetful.” 

“Want me to come?” he offers, hand shying away from inserting the keycard in. 

“No, I’ll only be fifteen minutes, tops.”

“So I guess this is this the part where I get a goodnight kiss?” he asks cheekily, leaning on his heels so his tall frame reaches yours. You don’t hesitate to give a short peck to his pretty pink lips. He pouts at the brevity, “that was too quick.” 

“Go inside,” you insist, “the sooner you get ready for bed the sooner I can get ready for bed.” 

“Then more kisses?” 

“Then more kisses.” 

Jungkook breaks into an all-teeth smile, unable to control himself when he dips down and steals a longer, more lingering kiss to your lips. “I had a great time tonight,” he says, mimicking every single teenage rom-com protagonist who’s deeply in love with the popular jock. “Don’t take too long, okay?” 

You nod, pushing him inside, “C’mon, if you stopped talking I’d be back by now!” 

Once the door closes shut, you let yourself do a little dance in the hallway, wiggling your butt and giving yourself a mini-celebration. You quickly text your group chat that you just came back from the Cirque show.

Jimin: what, a date with your fake date?

Hobi: jeon jungcock? 👀👀

Jimin: whaaaaaattttt. U’ve gotta have sat in his lap at least. 3 times since you’ve started this ting

Hobi: i’ve heard things in college… 

Taehyung: u are all gross and i hate u 

Taehyung: but so am i bc im very curious 

Just as you’re about to send a heated reply, the elevator dings, revealing a pissed off Doyeon. She’s bare-faced, in a fluffy lilac bath robe and matching puff ball slippers. You slip in right beside her, making sure there’s a comfortable amount of space between you two. 

“You’re going to the parking garage too?” you ask, eyes lingering on the lit button. 

“Yeah,” she’s looking at her phone, a few stray hairs from her mahogany bun falling onto her forehead, “Aunt Lillian left her medication in the car. I don’t know why she has to send me, I’m busy getting married.” 

“My parents left their formal clothes in the car,” you shrug, “you know, my parents and Aunt Lillian share the same brain cell. Gotta help them out once in a while.”  

The icy silence in the elevator is probably the calmest you and Doyeon have been since you’ve announced your relationship status with Jungkook. You fight the sigh, opting to take out your phone and open some unread messages. 

Jeon Jung-boo-thang: hurry up, the bed’s cold without u 

You: lool, why do u look constipated 

Jeon Jung-boo-thang: because i am, hurry up. Im bringing ur switch to the toilet and playing on your profile 

You: JEON WAIT YAMPERS AT 5HP GO TO THE POKEMON CENTER U HEATHEN

You tilt your head a centimeter, feeling Doyeon breathing down your neck like Puff the Magic Dragon. You look at her with wide eyes. Her long, slender neck manages to snake its way next to your head, “Can I help you?” you ask amusedly, clutching your phone to your chest. 

“Are you two really together?” she asks, batting her lashes. All this week she’s left you alone, and you’ve been wondering when she’s going to make herself known. It’s a little self-absorbed you have to admit, but ever since Namjoon’s ignorance to Doyeon’s previous relationship, you’ve been on edge. 

“Of course we are,” you spit back, “I love him.” 

And you must be very convincing, because Doyeon’s gaze falters just a fraction. You glare at her, staking your claim. Ever since Jungkook told you the reason Doyeon hates you is because she’s jealous, you’ve started to feel a bit of sympathy for her. Doyeon is beautiful and smart, she has no reason to feel this way. But the brain holds fickle thoughts sometimes, bringing darkness to the mind. 

“He loved me first,” she bites back, lifting her chin. 

“And why do you care?” you laugh tonelessly. The elevator dings open, and you’re met with the open air and concrete of the parking garage. “He may have loved you first, but he’ll love me last.” 

You leave the elevator first, a little pep in your step as you make your way to the rental car to gather your parent’s things. While the words you uttered are white in nature and may not hold any sort of weight to them, it manages to bring Doyeon to her knees, absolutely quaking in the elevator. 

You’re tasting revenge, and it’s sweet. 

“Okay, you need to leave,” Seokjin pulls away the shot glass from your lips, “I didn’t spend days planning the itinerary for you to mess it up. Bridal party in Doyeon’s suite and the groom’s party in Namjoon’s parents suite.” 

“That’s dumb,” you chastise, crossing your arms, “we’re all meeting at the same club at 10. Why can’t we pre-party together?” 

“Because it’s tradition!” 

“Screw tradition,” you stumble on your heels as you purse your lips at Jungkook, “Kook, when we get married I don’t wanna do a whole boy-and-girl party. We’re equals, right?” 

“Of course, baby,” he cooes, being careful not to smudge your makeup when he presses his lips to the crown of your head. “But for the sake of Seokjin’s sanity, you should probably go to Doyeon’s. It’ll only be an hour or two.” 

You gasp exaggeratedly at the blatant betrayal. He only grins cheekily in response, dipping down to press a wet kiss to your cheek. “Fine,” you cross your arms, snatching back your drink from Seokjin’s grasp to knock it down. 

Leaving the bachelor pre-party pains you considerably. They’re having such a good time joking around the suite, telling each other fun stories and relaxing in chairs as they watch TV. This is your kind of crowd, not to mention that you can peacefully check out Jungkook’s ass in those tight dress pants without any crazy club lights distorting your vision.

From past family party experience you already have a feeling what’s coming for you in the ladies’ suite. 

Loud music pours from Doyeon’s suite, and it’s completely unlocked. The bridal party is raving, ten seconds away from being completely drunk and immobile. The lights are being manually shut on and off like some sort of cheap rager, and you have to tell Yoojung to tone it down before you get a seizure. 

The stench of acidic drinks and the tang of alcoholic air is palpable, and instead of a shot you opt for a glass of peach champagne to slow you down. 

As you walk deeper into the suite, you notice a crowd forming by the balcony. Tapping your cousin Nari on the shoulder, you regard her with a hug and kiss. “What’s going on over there?” you ask, heels not helping you see any better. 

Nari’s all blushy and pink, hiccuping as she gestures to the balcony. “Her maid of honor got Doyeon a very special gift!” 

Managing to weave through the women blocking your view, you fight the urge to gag when you have a clear view of the scene in front of you.

You really don’t understand the purpose of bachelor and bachelorette parties. “One night to be single all over again!” they all say, even though they’re not actually single? Like why does the couple suddenly get one night of forgiveness when you’ve already spent years being in a committed relationship? 

Why is it okay that Doyeon’s dry humping a stripper on the balcony? Her white silk dress is ruched dangerously high, soon close to flashing her family. Aunties and friends and the like are cheering her on, and she flips her head perfectly to all the phones shoved in their faces, making sure to get the perfect angle. 

Fighting the urge to roll your eyes, you turn back in the hopes that your other family members would be willing to have a good old-fashioned tip back with you. 

You squeal when your hands accidentally land on a bare, oiled chest. You look up, mortified at the large man covered in black harnesses. “Hey babe, I’m Wonho,” he says, faking a sultry gaze as he looks at you up and down, “you’re part of the bridal party too? Wanna dance?” 

Feeling naked, you push past him, careful not to get anything on your dress. Wonho? Wonno.

Jungkook loves your family. 

(Except Doyeon.)

As much as he told you not to worry about him, and he’ll be completely fine when he meets your family, he couldn’t help be a little wary on the flight over. After all, it’s been two years and he didn’t know how things would be different. 

Chaoticism and all, your family is a thing to be cherished. Even though Yoongi has been on mood swings that make Jungkook question his sanity from time to time, and Seokjin is secretly breathing down Jungkook’s back every time he so glances at you, he thinks things are right where they should be.  

But despite all that they regarded him with familiarity, hugged and kissed him like old friends, something is different. They’ve turned over a new page for him. They don’t bring up Doyeon. They ask about his family, his job, his life in the city. They ask about how you and Jungkook met, and how happy they are for you. How happy they are for him.

Oh, how he wishes everything could be different. In another world, you two would already be together. 

He wasn’t lying back at the cabana when he said you two are the hottest couple at the resort, including the bridal party (but don’t tell Namjoon). You look absolutely stunning in your sparkly red dress, accentuating all the right parts and lighting up the whole room. 

When he finds you in the club you’re sitting down with your Aunties, keeping the elders company while the younger ones are flagging down the bartenders. He thinks it’s cute, how well you fit in between them, coddling you like you’re still a child in their eyes. 

“Dear, your boyfriend is here!” your one Aunt yells over the loud EDM.

You lift your head up quickly, giving him the prettiest smile. Your teeth glow purple under the neon lights, and he fights the urge to laugh when he holds out a hand. “Mind if I steal her from you?” 

“Of course, she’s gotta live a little!” 

You pout, a little wobbly but nevertheless still in the right mind as you shuffle out of the booth to meet his awaiting arms. “Hey handsome,” your voice is thick and sweet-smelling, “come here often?” 

“Only when my girlfriend does,” he replies cheekily, hands immediately coming to your butt to smooth out your dress. He shys a bit when your Aunties hoot and holler at his public display of affection, but all he wants to do was pull the hem down a little bit. No way is he going to let anyone get a flash of your goods. 

“Let’s dance!” you take your hand in his, leading him to a comfortable corner of the dance floor. 

Clubs aren’t really your scene, aligning with Jungkook’s sentiments towards the loud generic music and terrible smell. But you’re in Vegas, and he feels that it’s all part of the package to experience the nightlife at least once. He puts his hands on your waist and you giggle like you’re in prom, hands coming to rest on the collar of his button down. 

“Hey,” he says with a lopsided smirk, “wanna make out?” 

 “Sure,” he notices that you don’t even check if anyone’s seeing, and it makes his heart flutter when you don’t hesitate to get on your tiptoes to meet him halfway. 

He’s always hoped for a moment like this, a moment where the room stops spinning and both your minds click into place. It’s almost comical, how he distinctly notes that the music fades once his lips touch yours. The kiss is hot, yet intimate. Even though he makes excuses to kiss you all the time because of practice, it goes to show that you two definitely never needed it. Your tiny hands grip the collar of his button down, bringing you two impossibly close despite the hot air. His larger hands grip at the strings that hold your measly dress together, grappling at any excuse to get to your soft skin. The two of you are a natural when it comes to each other’s intimacy. 

The two of you pull away, mesmerized. You haven’t kissed like that before. He melts under your stare, his thumb reaching to nick off any lip gloss that’s moved in the process. 

Seokjin comes down the floor to haul you both by the shoulders, “C’mon lovebirds, they’re taking wedding shots!” 

The two of you follow your cousin to the crowd of people that is your family, already with their own drinks in hand. Doyeon and Namjoon are sitting atop the bar, making a very loud toast that consisted of a quick “thank you!” and “we love you!” before downing their drinks with their arms linked together. The room is thrumming with excitement for tomorrow’s festivities, and surprisingly, you and Jungkook included. He tucks himself in your body like a puzzle piece, hugging you from behind while he watches Namjoon’s eyes sparkle with love under the neons. 

The nightclub gets a little blurry after that, with the copious amounts of alcohol and shameless actions from your family and friends. By the time it’s twelve Jungkook notices you swaying at a rate that you can’t handle. He knows your limits and knows when you have to urge to pee every five minutes, it’s time to go. With a chaste kiss you leave him at the bar, deciding to make a pitstop to the bathroom before telling Jungkook you want to head up.

You’re locked in a stall when you hear Yoojung’s voice. 

“Ugh,” she groans, voice echoing through the tiny room. “Jungkook is so sexy. Do you see the way he’s dancing out there? He’s a literal babe magnet, I can’t believe he ended up with someone like y/n.” 

You don’t move a muscle, pressing your ear against the door that hides you. The silly slander isn’t news to you, Doyeon has been feeding her friends all sorts of bullcrap so they wouldn’t bother talking to you. 

“Yeah, Jungkook’s a real treat but he dated Doyeon first. Sounds like she’s into sloppy seconds,” Elly replies, another bridesmaid you’ve met in passing. “But I don’t know, they do look happy together.”

“Please, I’m sure Jungkook’s just using her so he can get one more chance at Doyeon before she ties the knot,” you bristle, the thought of Jungkook still having feelings for Doyeon makes your heart thud painfully against your chest, “like, what a downgrade. Namjoon and Doyeon do not deserve this drama. If Jungkook ever liked Doyeon at all, he wouldn’t have come. Period.” 

You slam the door open, causing Elly to squeal and Yoojung’s YSL lipstick to fall onto the sink. You’re the epitome of relaxation, walking towards the sink to wash your hands. The bridesmaids simply stare at you, unable to formulate a comeback. When you finally dry your hands, you say your next words. 

“Jungkook is here because he loves me,” an act act act. This is all an act. You shouldn’t be this offended because you know it’s all false. “And you’re wrong. It’s not Jungkook that doesn’t deserve Doyeon. Jungkook was too good for Doyeon.” 

And you slam your heels against the tile, stilettos pounding to the beat of the music. Your exit is full of anger and frustration as you ignore the burn in your step and the ache in your heart, flagging the first bartender you see to get you a double. 

Shot for shot, that anger soon melts into guilt as Yoojung’s words sink in. The thought of Jungkook using you to get to Doyeon is terrible, you can barely stomach the thought. But that’s exactly what you’re doing, right? You’re using Jungkook to get back at Doyeon. 

Why did you even want to get back at Doyeon anymore? Why do you have to prove anything to her? If she just continues to push you around, isn’t that more on her than it is on you? 

Jungkook soon finds you after you’ve nursed a few drinks, leaning unceremoniously against a barstool. His eyes widen at your state, and he immediately sheds his jacket to wrap it around your waist. 

“Why did you drink so much?” he chastises, “it’s the night before the wedding.” 

“Jungkookie,” you warble, clutching your stomach, “I don’t feel so good.” 

He sighs, bending down. “Get on my back. Make sure the jacket covers you up, okay?” 

He doesn’t even grunt when you put all your weight on him, feeling like a ragdoll as he hoists you up. You wrap your arms around his shoulders, letting him carry you to your room. Most of the older family already went upstairs to sleep, so none of your cousins could care less when they see you get hauled away by Jungkook. 

You inhale, he smells like sweat and cologne. “I like putting my head between your neck,” you babble, and you feel Jungkook chuckle through his chest, “you smell so nice there. It’s the bestset! Comfiest place ever, ‘specially when m’sleepy.” 

“Are you sleepy now, baby?” You love how smooth the petname falls from his lips. 

“I will be when we get upstairs,” you reply, happy to see the elevator is empty. “I’m just all up in my head.” 

“Is that why you were drinking so much? You said you were gonna stop earlier.” 

“Yeah, but,” you shamefully tuck your head in his shoulder, “I was frustrated.” 

“Frustrated? At who?” concern laces his tone as he struggles to hold you with one hand and fumble for his key in the other. You tighten your legs around his slim waist until the door clicks open, and he immediately walks over to your bed to plop you down. “Babe, are you crying?” he finally has a good look at your face, horrified to see the streaks of tears mixed with mascara running down your face. 

“I wa-was jealous,” you confess tearily, clutching your face in your hands,  “some girls in the bathroom were calling you sexy and that you were only here so you could try to win over Doyeon. I know it sounds ridiculous and you would never do that but. The thought of you getting back with her makes me so jealous and I hate it! I’m starting to feel so guilty about this, all of this. I put all of this on ourselves and I’m ruining it.” 

“Ruining what? You’re not making any sense.” Jungkook places a hand on your knee, crouching down so he can look up at you. 

“I’m ruining us,” you gush despondently, “I’m ruining any potential of us before we even start.” 

Jungkook freezes, hand clutching your knee like a lifeline. The potential of you two together? You’ve thought of that? Jungkook didn’t drink much tonight, so his mind is definitely running on all cogs. 

Coming to a conclusion, he rubs slow, soothing circles on your knee, his other hand reaching up to wipe the tears from your face. “You’re not ruining anything,” he declares firmly, “that’s impossible. I may have agreed to fake-date you because of Doyeon, but I stayed because of you.” 

His heart aches seeing you so upset, and he decides to take initiative to get you out of your clothing and ready for bed. You don’t have any words, opting to let Jungkook take care of you as you try to calm yourself down. He finds a spare t-shirt,  a long one so you’ll be comfortable. He doesn’t bat an eye when he unzips your dress, in favor of balling up the shirt and getting you clothed as fast as possible. He rifles through the bathroom to find your makeup wipes, and he’s gentle when he scrubs up the once pretty makeup you spent half an hour doing. Barefaced and fresh, you look sleepy and ready to crash. 

But before Jungkook can tuck you in, you clutch his arm.

“Jungkook,” you murmur sleepily, “I think I lo—” 

“I know, baby,” he doesn’t want a confession like this, and he’s sure you wouldn’t want it either. You still look a little green and you’re not sober, so he makes the executive decision to pin these feelings for later. “I’m not trying to invalidate you, I promise. I want you to tell me this, all of this in the morning. We’ll talk then.”

“Okay,” you melt in the sheets, pulling the blankets up to your chest. When you see Jungkook move away from the bed, you jolt, “Where are you going?” 

Jungkook smiles, reaching over to tuck you back in, “I left my blazer in Namjoon’s room. I’ll be right back, okay?” 

He walks out of your room as quietly as he can, making sure to close the door slowly. Once it’s sealed shut, he leaps up, giving himself a silent cheer as he bounds down the hall. You like him back! 

The smile on his face is tired but full of fervor as he makes his way to Namjoon and Doyeon’s suite. He doesn’t even care that he probably has to talk to Doyeon to get his jacket back, thoughts filled with the excitement of his requited feelings and going back to his room to cuddle up with you. 

He doesn’t even have to knock when the large double doors swing open. Dumbfounded, he looks down at Doyeon, wearing a tiny black nightie and dangling his jacket with one finger. It’s an outfit that leaves nothing to the imagination, and he feels his neck heat up at the feeling he’s encroaching on an intimate moment. 

“You left this,” she says slowly, a tiny smirk on her lips. 

“Uh, thanks,” he says, making sure not to touch her when he grabs his blazer. 

In her other hand she holds up her room’s designated ice bucket. “Could you also get me some ice, please? Namjoon’s fast asleep and I really don’t want to walk out all… exposed.” 

He swallows his sigh, knowing it’s going to take significantly longer to get back to you when Doyeon drawls like this. “Of course,” he replies tersely, “after all, you are the bride.” 

“Thanks, Jungkookie.” 

He makes quick work of getting Doyeon the ice, pumping his long legs down the hall. The ice room is cold and cramped, barely enough for his tall frame to fit in. He jabs the container in the holder, pressing the button ten times per second to get as much ice out as possible. 

As soon as he turns around with the ice, he drops the whole bucket. 

Like glass, it shatters onto the ground, hundreds of little clear pebbles skimming across the floor like marbles. Doyeon’s pushing Jungkook against the ice machine, freshly manicured hands splayed across his chest. Her body is flush against his, making sure that he feels all of her with her thin silk gown. 

“What the fuck, Doyeon get off of me!” a little part of him hopes she’ll come to her senses on her own so he doesn’t have to put his hands on her. 

“C’mon, Kookie,” her voice is a sickly candy sweet, her eyes wide with hunger as she takes in his form, “just one more night, you and me. Like old times. One more night before I tie the knot.” 

“You’re crazy,” he balks, running his hand through his hair, “this is sexual harassment, do you know that?” 

“You don’t mean that, Kookie,” Doyeon dips a red-tipped nail down his chest, “why settle for someone like y/n when I’m right here?” 

He grabs her wrists, firm. She winces at the contact, but doesn’t say anything when Jungkook delivers her a scary glare. It gets her quiet, fearful of this version of Jungkook. Doyeon’s never seen Jungkook like this before, so unwilling to bend at her whim and emanating all his power against her. 

“Why settle for your cousin?” he whispers like it’s the most obvious thing in the world, “because, I love her.” 

Her lip curls in disgust, nails digging into the palm of his hand. “But you loved me first.”

“And I’ll love her last,” he spits pack, letting go of her. His anger splits for a brief second, regarding Doyeon with sorrow, “this is low, even for you.”

Jungkook pushes past the ice, wobbling out of the ice room. He doesn’t look back, he just knows that he needs you right now. He needs to tell you everything, figure out a plan to cancel the wedding or something. 

But when he crashes inside the room, you’re dead asleep. He can’t find the courage to wake up Seokjin as well, who returned and is sleeping in his club outfit. He groans, feeling useless as he stares at the two of you, ignorant of what just conspired ten minutes ago. 

And Namjoon, what is he going to tell Namjoon? Poor guy doesn’t deserve any of this. 

Walking up to your side of the bed, he tucks your loose hair behind your ear. You look so peaceful now, so beautiful. 

It’s just going to have to wait until the morning. 

The morning of the wedding, you wake up alone. 

The first thought that runs through your head is that Jungkook has rejected you. The little, insecure bug that will never go away in your brain fills you with rash thoughts. He’s on a flight half way back home and he regrets this whole week. 

But after that exaggeration, you notice two aspirin and a bottle of water on your nightstand, along with your phone that’s fully charged. 

You pull up the screen to check the dozens of messages that flood your app. 

Jeon Jung-boo-thang: morning babe, im sorry i had to leave early. Namjoon showed up at our door freaking out that his suit is the wrong fit and shade. Now im running around vegas trying to find a replacement that doesn’t look like an elvis presley extra

Jeon Jung-boo-thang: but i didn’t forget what you said last night, i promise! Just go get ready and i’ll meet u at the chapel outside the resort. 

Jeon Jung-boo-thang: i also have something to say to you

Jeon Jung-boo-thang: wow i didn’t realize how ominous that sounds. Dw, everything will be fine

When someone tells you something will be fine, it’s a universal agreement that no, things will not be fine. 

So you get dressed, and put on your makeup mindlessly. You don’t really know what to make of Jungkook’s cryptic message, but you decide to leave those thoughts in the back of your mind as you go to the other rooms to help your family get ready. 

Seokjin is busy tying the ring bearer’s tie, looking handsome with his slicked back hair and polished grey suit. “Morning, cousin,” he sing-songs, “you look beautiful today!”

You smooth out your dress, a cascading silver number with starry sparkles. You feel like you’re living out your magical girl fantasies, wrapped up in layers of tulle and a sparkly sweetheart bodice.

“Right back at you. Say, you didn’t see Jungkook this morning, did you?” 

“No, but I heard he’s with Namjoon hunting for a new suit. Why?” 

“Nothing,” you lean against the guest table, “he just said something really ominous over text.” 

“I will never get a peaceful day so long as I’m in this family,” he says this directly to the ring bearer, a toddler who’s obviously confused at his uncle’s weird sayings. 

Your phone beeps conveniently, displaying Jungkook’s name. 

Jeon Jung-boo-thang: just got his suit. We’ll be there in fifteen. Meet me at the garden behind the chapel, please. It’s urgent 

Now you’re just worried. So you tell Seokjin your sentiments, and that he should have his phone on hand in case you needed him. With a confused nod, you leave him to go down to the garden.  

The groomsmen and bridesmaids are already at the chapel taking pictures. Only the wedding party is really allowed at this time, but you manage your way through the gardens virtually undetected. Jungkook’s already waiting for you, hiding under a white gazebo overlooking the hotel’s fountain. 

He looks gorgeous in his all black pinstripe suit, hair pushed back and pants fitted perfectly around his waist and thighs. When he sees you he gets up, full of skittish energy. You note that his hair isn’t even styled, only washed and curling slightly at the ends, as if he’s in a rush.

“W-wow,” he marvels when you rush up to him, “you look gorgeous.” 

You drop the handful of silver tulle, letting it fall to the floor. “Jungkook,” you clasp his hand in both of his, guilt flooding your eyes. You’ve been thinking about this all morning, and you need to cut to the chase. Jungkook tries to open his mouth but you silence him with a finger on his lips. “I can’t—I can’t do this. I know this sounds really stupid and you probably don’t want anything to do with me after this, but I shouldn’t have made this elaborate scheme,” you bite your lip, feeling even more antsy as Jungkook squirms in his grip. He however, is trying very hard to focus with his eyes, confused at your sudden confession. “I like you, Jungkook. I don’t want to parade you around like a revenge plot anymore, it isn’t fair and it’s wrong in so many ways—” 

“That’s great,” he says simply, brown eyes swirling with thoughts, “um, ditto. But—”

“Wow,” you frown, “I pour my heart out to you and this is what I get?” 

“It’s great that you want to be selfless right now,” Jungkook takes your hand, firm and tight, “but without this elaborate scheme, we wouldn’t be saving asses like we are right now.”

“What are you talking about?” You thought Jungkook rushed you down here so you could talk about each other’s feelings before the wedding. 

“Doyeon just threw herself on me last night. I got her ice and she took that as an invitation to seduce me like an episode of Sex and the City. Namjoon needs to divorce her, like yesterday.” 

Your face then morphs into something dark and ugly, and you fling your whole confession out the window. The thought of Doyeon going as far as throwing herself on Jungkook as a last ditch attempt to get back at you, has you seeing blood red. “What? Why didn’t you tell me this sooner!”

“You were asleep!” he shoots back, putting his hands on your shoulders. He rubs warm strokes up and down your bare arms, “please relax. You’re shaking.” 

“And why didn’t you tell Namjoon when you were driving around all morning?”

“I tried to!” he retorts, hands swinging in the air. You huff when his hands land back on your shoulders, preventing you from running to the chapel to extract Doyeon out yourself, “but he just kept talking shit about how much he loves Doyeon and he can’t imagine being together with anyone but her and I felt so bad! I’m sorry I chickened out. I really don’t wanna be the one to break Namjoon’s heart. I’m just the plus one!” 

You pinch your brows, mulling it over. “Fuck it, let’s crash a wedding,” you declare, “where’s Namjoon and how can we get him alone?” 

Jungkook exhales, a hand carding up to loosen his thin silver tie. “He’s taking pictures with the groomsmen right now. It’s gonna be awhile before we get a chance to talk.” 

“Fuck,” you curse, sitting down on the white bench. Jungkook presses soothing circles on your back. “We have no choice, we have to get to him before the ceremony starts.” 

“You’ll have to get through me, first.” 

Doyeon’s not even in her wedding dress when she strides up to the two of you. She’s in ballet flats with her hair and makeup done, but the only thing she’s wearing is the thin underdress of her actual ball gown, a simple silk negligee that reaches her ankles. You don’t even know how she’s managed to escape the bridal party, especially without her dress. 

Feeling protective, you step in front of Jungkook. “Before you say anything,” you murmur, “I’m not ruining your wedding, and I never wanted to. You’re ruining it because of your mistakes.” 

“Oh, boo-hoo,” Doyeon rolls her eyes, playing with her nails, “I didn’t even do anything wrong, everyone knows that on the bachelorette’s night she can do whatever she wants. Namjoon could’ve fucked whoever too if he wasn’t so faithful.” 

“Namjoon is ten times the partner you are and would never do that,” You’re seeing red, unable to comprehend the complete garbage spilling from Doyeon’s lips. “You touched my boyfriend without his consent, and I will never forgive you for that,” your voice is scarlet, angry and thin. 

“It’s not like he isn’t used to it, I—”

“NO!” the sound that comes out of your mouth has all three of you flinching, and you’re thankful the gazebo is far enough so that the rest of the wedding party is oblivious to your actions. “You’re not allowed to justify yourself anymore, Doyeon. What you did was fucked up, what you’ve done to all of us is fucked up!” You realize now that you didn’t need to get back at Doyeon with a fake date, what you needed was this. You needed a reprieve, a chance to lay down your law. “Jungkook was right all along. You are jealous. You’re jealous and selfish and have no shame. You think you own whatever you set your eyes on, but you’re wrong. We’re not objects, we’re people.” 

You walk up to Doyeon, eye to eye. You jab a hand at her chest, pushing her back slightly. You soak up your cousin’s expression, and you watch as Doyeon’s eyes pop out in surprise at your act of boldness. “So you have a choice here. You can either swallow your pride and leave Namjoon at the aisle quietly and save whatever dignity you have left. Take your pathetic ass on the next flight back home and pack up your apartment. Or, we can start a big scene at your ceremony,” you probably look manic, filled with freshly injected power, “I know Seokin’s always wanted to yell ‘I object!’ at a wedding.” 

“You have no proof,” Doyeon glares right back, taking a step closer to you. Your noses are practically touching, but you dig your heels in the white-stained wood, puffing up your chest and standing your ground. 

“Doesn’t matter,” you bite back, “what matters is that Namjoon will doubt you. Namjoon knows we’d never do anything to sabotage a wedding without a valid reason. Even if you do get married tonight, we have Jungkook’s word and proof of a relationship that overlaps with his. I find this option to be far worse because it’s prolonging the inevitable,” you shrug, “I hope you two didn’t sign a prenup.”  

Hot, angry tears mess up her meticulously done makeup. Black rivers carve through her porcelain skin, showing the feelings that have been dormant since been hidden under a facade. Doyeon’s eyes dart back and forth between the two of you. She’s practically vibrating in combined fear and rage, seeing blurry images and memories and regrets of what could’ve been if not for her self-absorption. And finally, your cousin comes to a decision. 

“I hate you,” she emphasizes each word with the most concentrated of venoms in her tone. WIth one last look at the two of you, she stomps away. Instead of going to the direction of the chapel however, she takes the shortcut back to the hotel. 

Her grave words are unsurprising, but nevertheless disappointing. A thinly veiled smile grazes your lips, sadder than ever as you watch your cousin go. “And I pity you.” 

As soon as she’s gone Jungkook doesn’t hesitate to scoop you up, hugging you tightly as you fight the urge to cry again. “Oh babe, that was really hot. The way you stood your ground? That was amazing!” Jungkook takes out his silver pocket square to wipe the stray tears that threaten to ruin your makeup. “You’re so strong, don’t you know that? You did it and I’m so proud of you.” 

As much as you want to revel in the affection, go back and bed and fall asleep until noon, you can’t.  Grasping Jungkook by the hand, you tug him to the chapel. “C’mon,” you say, “we have to corner Namjoon.”

The groomsmen photos are done by the time you get there. Thankfully, the to-be-groom doesn’t look too occupied. His eyes widen upon seeing you two stumble from the garden of all places.

“Oh, y/n. Jungkook,” Namjoon tilts his head curiously at how winded you two look, equally flushed and out of breath. From your state, Namjoon muses that it must've taken a lot of effort to finally get to the groom unattended, save for a few random family members he’s making small talk with, “The wedding isn’t for another hour but I must say, you two look radiant together. Doyeon always thought you’d end up an old spinster-catlady, but I always told her that you’re too beautiful to be single for long,” he pauses to send the aforementioned man a wink, “Jungkook’s a lucky guy. What were you two doing back there?”

“Uh, things?” Jungkook scratches the back of his head, not wanting to reiterate the fiasco between Doyeon moments before.

Namjoon smirks at the ebony-haired man, “Couple things?”  

You can’t take this needless small talk anymore. With a teary groan, you throw yourself at Namjoon. You hug him tight, and you don’t even care when you feel a slosh of his water bottle sprinkle your hairstyle. 

“Joonie,” you bemoan, “please, please don’t leave me. You’re the best not-cousin ever. I know it’ll be a pain to face Doyeon after today but you’re a strong independent man and when you’re ready Jin is single and ready to mingle—ow! Jungkook! Did you just pinch my ass?” 

“Do you really think setting him up with the next cousin is the best idea right now?”

“I figured a little humor would lighten the blow,” you sulk.

“I’m sorry what—what blow?” Namjoon frowns, pushing you away from him. “Y/n, have you been crying?” 

The tears resurface at that moment, like a kettle on overboil. Namjoon’s face is knitted together, unable to grasp at any conclusion. Namjoon feels something grave is upon the sky as he tenderly brushes away your tears with his thumbs before releasing you. Instantly Jungkook pulls you to his chest, patting you soothingly. As much as you two do not want to be the bearer of bad news, the time is now. 

“Namjoon,” Jungkook says, finding the strength that was previously stuck in his throat, “we have to tell you something.” 

Needless to say, Las Vegas is very forgiving when it comes to last minute wedding cancellations. 

The whole wedding party, both Namjoon and yours, collectively feels like a whole ice bucket has been dumped upon your families. You would like to say that the whole issue was handled mess free, but that would be a bald-faced lie. 

There was screaming, crying, hysterical laughter from all sides. Doyeon’s parents were of course furious, embarrassed, unable to calm down a hysterical Doyeon as they haul her on the next flight home. You have a feeling they won’t be showing up to family events anytime soon. 

Namjoon’s family leaves quietly, frustrated, but classy. After all, they know at the back of their heads they dodged a bullet. Everyone leaves except Namjoon however, who isn’t quite ready to go back to his and Doyeon’s apartment. Namjoon invites Seokjin and some other close cousins to stay in his suite until their flight tomorrow afternoon, wanting to be surrounded by close friends and (almost) family. 

As for your family, they decide to find the silver lining. While the chapel was able to cancel the wedding, the reception wasn’t as easy to sway. At the very last second, your grandparents decided to make use of the reception and renew their Golden Anniversary vows instead. The ceremony will be a quick, sweet affair. At this very moment, your cousin Yoongi is getting officiated online. 

And for you? You’re in the place where you’ve wanted to remain all week. A fluffy hotel bed wrapped up with your not-boyfriend. 

Or? 

Would a not-boyfriend be snuggling against your chest like you’re the softest teddy bear in the toy shop? Would a not-boyfriend be hooking your leg atop his lap, forcing you to latch onto him so his hands can roam freely against your soft thighs? 

“We have to get ready for the wedding,” you whine against his hold, to no avail when he only holds you tighter. 

“But your grandparents are already married,” Jungkook whines right back, nuzzling his nose in your head. “This is like an afterparty fifty years later.” 

“I wanna get dressed,” you insist, pushing yourself up, “and we still need to talk.” 

Without Seokjin staying with you, the hotel room feels much bigger and freer for the two of you. Your clothes are scattered on the floor, uncaring of any wrinkles or smears that would get on the delicate fabric. 

All that matters is that Jungkook is still here with you. Doyeon’s wedding is called off, but he’s still lying in bed with you. You want to burn this image to memory, and keep it forever. Jungkook laying in only his white undershirt and boxers, looking at you dreamily as if he’s still in nap-mode. Hair that was previously windswept and exposing his forehead is now out of place, fluffy and sticking out in all directions. His cheeks are flushed with coral-colored warmth, and a little puffy because you two have been sleeping most of the afternoon. 

“Right, talk,” he repeats, letting you hand him his black button up so he can clothe himself. 

You throw off your shirt somewhere behind you, not wanting to face him as you walk to the full-length mirror. “So, I think my feelings for you are pretty clear and out in the open…” 

“Same, I think I made it pretty clear as well.” 

“What? You turn around, looking at where he’s still half-covered in bed. “You did not. I distinctly remember almost confessing my love to you last night. And then this morning, only for you to cut me off and say ‘that’s great’.” 

“Oh,” he stares at the white sheets that cover his lower half. “I guess I didn’t then.” 

You smile wryly, turning back to face the mirror so you can slip into your dress that’s been pooled around your ankles like a silver halo. “Maybe you thought it in your mind and forgot to tell me.” 

That seems about right. Jungkook has a tendency to be a little too passionate for his own good, windswept in thoughts and feelings until they consume him. He hops out of bed, walking only in his dress shirt and socks as he makes his way to the mirror. “Then let me do all the talking,” he says softly against your neck, hands on your hips. 

You shiver when you feel the cold silver of the zipper whirr up your body, Jungkook’s large hands splaying across your back to smooth out the waistline. 

“You of all people would know that being with Doyeon is a trip,” he chuckles into the crook of your neck, “I thought that was what love felt like. Being codependent, jumping through hurdles, trying so hard to please someone who can’t be pleased.” 

Jungkook’s hands wrap around your waist, hugging you tightly. He squeezes you and holds you like the most precious thing in the entire world. Through the mirror, you two are quite a pair. 

“But with you, I never knew love could be like this, feel like this.” 

“So… are you saying you love me?” you fight the urge to bounce around in his grip, the biggest smile on your face.  

“You really just want me to say ‘I love you’ and be done with it, huh?” 

Within seconds he’s pulling you from behind, whirling you around to the edge of the bed. He manages to flouce up your skirts to billow around his lap, sitting you down on his bare thighs. 

“You look like a cupcake, all sprawled up like this,” Jungkook says cutely, peppering kisses in a trail from your chest all the way to your lips. “You look like a huge, silvery cupcake and I love you. It’s so easy to love you.” 

Maybe it was kismet that Jungkook didn’t get to you first all those years ago. Maybe the right time is right here, right now. 

“I love you, too,” you say happily, dipping down to press a long, passionate kiss to his lips. He tastes like love and a happy future. When you pull away, you encapsulate his face in both your palms, regarding him like the sun and stars. “But you know, if we date you’ll never get away from my crazy family.” 

Jungkook snorts, pressing his forehead to yours, “And miss Yoongi re-marrying off your grandparents tonight, the next year of Seokjin and Namjoon running circles around each other, and a lifetime of happiness?” his hands snake under your dress, finding purchase in your soft skin, “not a chance.” 

[cherthegoddess]

Sneak Peek of His Sunshine

Heyyy guys! Here's a quick sneak peek of something I've been working on called His Sunshine, a Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Reader. It's definitely a Grumpy x Sunshine fic and I've been having dreams about this story! I'm excited for everyone to read it so please enjoy! Oh! And same warnings as my other stories, this is written with a black reader in mind but anyone can read it!

His Sunshine

Bucky was already exhausted from the day and it was barely 11. He did his early morning run with Steve and Sam. He tried to avoid Tony to the best of his ability. Got unfortunately caught, with that one Parker kid. And now some alien losers decided that today was a fantastic day to try to invade the Earth for whatever reason. He just wanted to go back to his bed, read some books, and be away from all people, but luck was not on his side. He dodged the punches being thrown his way landing a few with his metal one. There just seemed to be too many. He watched as Steve killed one with a few more coming behind him. Bucky ran to help him swiftly getting away from the debris of the battle. He pulled a gun out of his holster when he knew he wasn’t going to get there in time, killing two and alarming Steve of their presence. He fought back-to-back with Steve. This battle wouldn’t be over for hours. Every time they killed one another popped up and every Avenger they could gather was there. 

Not long after the brush of defeat was starting to come into the air, a few of the aliens were screaming in pain from suddenly being lit on fire, others having branches growing out of their noses. The UFO that was in the air was being broken down piece by piece. The Avengers searched for their unknown hero. “Heyy guys sorry I’m late” Their heads quickly turned to the sky looking at the woman in the air wearing all blue, her identity hidden with a mask. The woman salutes before finishing off the rest of the aliens with bursts of fire, winds, and poor plants that have seen the back and front ends of the aliens. Bucky watched in awe with the others at her speed and effectiveness, all while not even lifting a finger. The others gathered in a small huddle and the woman began to finally hit the ground in front of them. “Whew! Those aliens were really something huh?” Their eyes train behind her as the city begins to rebuild itself. The woman looks behind her to see what they are staring at. “How in the…” She laughs. Waving her hand. “Oh, that’s me! Just doing a little cleanup!” Bucky looks at Steve confused, Steve shrugs his shoulders in response before stepping up. “Ma’am, who are you and where did you come from?” The woman grins. “Oh, my god. The Captain America is talking to me! Sorry, who am I, was your first question right? I’m Y/n. I don’t exactly have a cool superhero name yet. I didn’t realize how hard it would be to pick one, especially with two powers, you gotta honor both. Sorry, I’m rambling! Second question, I’m from Harlem born and bred. I was actually building up the courage to come to tell you guys about me and hopefully become an Avenger, but then you know aliens! Now I’m here!” The woman, who long-windedly, explained her name to be Y/n finally finished with a proud grin on her face. “Okay, Scrappy doo, how did you do all of this?” Tony motions to the buildings that were freshly repaired. “I would love to explain, but repairing buildings and fighting aliens is kind of a draining task, is it possible we could go to the tower? I can explain everything there especially if you want to test me to see all the cool things I can do as well?” They eyed each other, Bucky more weary of Y/n. She was too… nice. Too happy even after being in the face of danger. And even more worrisome, she was powerful. “Fine kid but you have to stay by Barnes’ side until we get there, we don’t trust you quite yet,” Bucky’s eyes shoot to Tony glaring harshly even after Steve places a hand on him so he doesn’t say anything. Y/n’s eyes for the first time since her appearance, meet his., she grins and waves, making her way over to him. He rolls his eyes.  Tony tells F.R.I.D.A.Y to send a quadjet. 

[crumbledcastle28]

Chapter 1: a tug

Warnings: PTSD, sadness, depression, panic attack, mentions of violence

Author’s note: this is part one of my series called “Burning Red.” This is kind of boring because it is a set up for the main storyline, but I hope you enjoy it! Any constructive criticism and support is greatly appreciated. And if I missed a warning, please let me know!!

After everything you’ve seen, everything you’ve done, everyone you’ve hurt, it felt good to just lay low.

A mechanic on tatooine was not what you imagined, but it did the trick.

No one saw you for who you truly were, and that made you happy.

Well, except for Peli.

You came to her sick and angry and alone, and she nursed you back to health. You would be rotting in the desert if it wasn’t for her, and you felt you owed her a little something.

So, you used your “uncommon” set of abilities to help her with her mechanics in any way she needed.

This included: cooking, cleaning, repairing, negotiating, and most importantly, defending.

Peli was no dummy. She knew you had more experience in that field than she did. So she recruited you, and paid you back with whatever she had laying around. A new outfit once and a while, a warm bed, a hot dinner, and a couple of credits so you could go shopping and get out of her hair.

You couldn’t blame her. You were a hell of a lot of trouble to be around.

Constant nightmares, paranoia, and regret surrounded your aura like a fog. Any normal person wouldn’t notice, but someone like Peli could. And it pissed her off a good majority of the time.

“Stop moping and help me clean this oil off my droid,” and sentences like this one, were said pretty frequently around your place.

Was it even your place? All you did was survive. Is that enough to say you lived there instead of just survived there?

You really liked Peli. She gave you a base. A “home” of sorts, and for that you were forever indebted.

But something in you always called you back to your real home, and that scared you more than Peli’s tough love. More than you could even describe.

~~*~~

It was a pretty normal day on Tatooine. The wind howled, the sand covered everything in its wake, and the heat. You would never get used to it.

You were eating your breakfast when a ship landed on the landing pad, and you could already tell it was a doosey just by the way the left engine was sputtering.

If this ship explodes, we better get a damn good pay, you think to yourself.

The ramp starts to open and you take that as your queue to start the walk to your makeshift room. It was really a storage room, but you didn’t mind.

When you get there, you squat down to the ground behind your door and grab your apron and set of tools. You knew Peli would need some help with this ship.

You hear the ship’s ramp hit he ground and you feel it.

A tug.

Not even a tug, a lurch. It felt like a rope had been tied to your soul and pulled you back into your old self.

This was a tug you hadn’t felt in so long. So long, it almost knocks you off your feet.

I closed myself off from this, you think. I shouldn’t feel this. I don’t want to feel this.

You already feel a headache coming on from the shock and ache in your bones, so you start walking back to the landing pad to tell Peli you aren’t feeling too well.

If I get recognized, we are both dead.

You’d rather get a scolding from Peli than a scolding hot gun wound in your chest.

“Hey,” you hear Peli shout at the client, and you pick up your pace. Your heart is hammering in your chest and you feel the panic ooz through your body.

It’s been so long since you’ve felt this, but you hate how it makes you feel alive.

You finally make it to Peli and you see her speaking very loudly (she doesn’t like to use the word “yelling”) at what seems to be your client.

But this is no ordinary client. This is a Mandalorian.

A very broad Mandalorian who, no offense to Peli, could knock her out in his sleep.

You had heard legends of their kind. But worst of all, you had fought them. And damn were they good.

You hadn’t seen any since the purge. You had heard rumors of them hiding under ground, but they had always been peaceful people. You hated how they got dragged into a war.

“You damage one of my droids, you’ll pay for it,” Peli says, and you really wish she would use a more peaceful tone.

The last thing you want to do right now is fight a very impressive looking Mandalorian covered entirely in beskar while your entire body is tingling.

Is he the one who is force sensitive?

“Just keep them away from my ship” he says, and you are surprised at how well he is taking Peli’s annoyance.

“Yeah? You think that’s a good idea?” Peli responds in a tone dripping with sarcasm and you take this as your moment to try to sneak away.

This however, was unsuccessful.

“Come on y/n. Let’s take a look at his ship,” she says and the Mandalorian turns his helmet towards you.

You probably look like an absolute mess. Your chest is heaving, you are sweating, and you are not at all prepared to do any sort of repairs. You are basically in your pajamas. The Mandalorian’s gaze has you nervous enough, but this familiar feeling in your stomach has you dizzy and nauseous.

Just hold on......

You start to follow Peli to the ship while still looking at the Mandalorian. You learned very early on in your life to never take your eyes off a predator. He follows your form and you try your best to mask his incredibly strong force connection gripping your chest.

This man isn’t even trying to hide it? It’s almost as if he is reaching for me?

You make it to Peli where you finally take your eyes off of him. You can see why Peli was so mad now.

“Oof! Look at that,” she says as she scans the ship with her eyes. “You’ve got a lot of cabron scoring up top. If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were in a shoot out.”

Oh my God, he was in a shoot out.

This is really not good. This man could have been followed and you could be surrounded at this very moment. You were a skilled fighter, but those kinds of odds were almost unbeatable. Especially when you were still trying to hide your identity.

You are so tense you feel like you could snap. You still feel his eyes on you, and you are praying to whatever is out there that you can just stay alive. That’s the only thing you’re good at.

“Name’s Peli Motto. That’s y/n,” she says as she points to you with her wrench.

She did not just tell him your NAME.

“This is my operation. You’re not gonna find a better mechanic on the planet,” she says as she leaned in closer to the engine.

“Yeah, I’m gonna have to rotate that. You’ve got a fuel leak. Look at this, this is a mess. How did you even land?”

All you wanted to do was scream.

He is a MANDALORIAN who was just in a SHOOT OUT. He is probably being FOLLOWED and we could be dead because of ME.

“That’s gonna set you back,” she says.

She is concerned about MONEY right now?

Peli is a smart woman, but she was walking you into a trap. You didn’t want her blood on your hands. You didn’t need any more of that.

All of this is happening while you are still on the verge of a panic attack.

This Mandalorian is strong with the force. It is squeezing your lungs and your feet and your hands and your brain. All rational thinking is out the window. You had to get out of here before he manages to suffocate you.

God you hate this feeling. A few years ago you lived with this constantly. It became a part of you. Something you enjoyed. But now...

“I’ve got five hundred imperial credits,” the Mandalorian says.

Imperial credits. Great. How did he get his hands on those?

“That’s all you got? Well..” she says and looks back at you.

“What do you think,” she asks in a teasing tone.

You try to plead to her with your eyes. You are sweating beyond belief and your brain is about to explode.

She tightens her brows in confusion at your state, but continues to bargain.

“That should at least cover the hanger,” she says and you feel your jaw almost drop to the floor.

How can she not see it?

“I’ll get you your money,” the Mandalorian mumbles and you try to take a deep breath. Passing out in front of one of the fiercest warriors in the galaxy who may be here to kill you would rip off the last bit of pride you had left. If you are going down, you are going down with a fight.

“I’ve heard that before,” Peli responds and looks at you in a joking way. Like she was trying to coax you into laughing with her.

You try to chuckle back, but it just comes out in a low breath.

You sound insane.

“Just remember—,” the Mandalorian starts

“No droids. I heard ya,” Peli finishes.

“Why do you think I keep this girl around,” she says chuckling with a pat on your back.

You muster up the strength to smile and feel holes burning in your head from the Mandalorian’s gaze.

He really knows how to stare.

The Mandalorian leaves the hanger, and it takes everything in you not to pass out right there.

You thought with him leaving it would die down, but it’s only getting worse.

“Are you ok,” Peli asks and helps you lower yourself to the ground.

You are breathing frantically now and your hands are clutched to your chest.

“He has it,” you say and you know Peli knows what you mean.

She looks at you with wide eyes and you see the realization on her face.

“Oh my god.... he was in a shootout,” she says.

“Uh huh,” you breathe out. The desperate force connection is starting to fade and you feel your lungs fill up with air once more.

“He could have been followed! Or he could be here to—“

“Kill us,” you say. Peli hates when you finish her sentences, but there was no point in caring right now.

“Ok. Get inside. If I need you I will call for you,” she says and you nod, slowly getting to your feet.

You start to walk back to your room, with Peli’s arms guiding you, while taking deep breaths, but you freeze when you sense something else coming out of the ship and you snap your head to the ramp.

“What,” Peli says as she follows your gaze.

Your heart flutters. The force is slowly starting to ease its nasty grip on you.

If you didn’t sense the creature, you would miss it.

A little green baby, wrapped in what looked like a potato sack, was strolling down the ramp, looking directly at you.

“It’s him,” you say.

“He has it.”

[rcksmith]

Just let me love you — Five Hargreeves

Request: “Hi. Could you possibly write about Five and reader taking a shower together and he's like so whipped for her and her body and (if it's not much) #38, #18 e #5 from your fluff prompt and #56 and #98 from your smut prompt (maybe not a too rough smut, just they both doing love and realizing how much in love they're with the other). THANK YOU ❤❤❤❤️ (sorry i'm not a native english speaker)”

Fluff prompts:

5. ”Don’t smile at me like that. You know it drives me crazy.”

18. “Enjoying the view, beautiful?”

38. “You say you hate it but your red face is telling me otherwise.”

Smut prompts:

56. “Do you know how beautiful you are? It’s truly distracting.”

98. “Just let me finish this and I swear I will go down on your and make you cum three times.”

A/N: We not tolerate any pedophilia here !!

I write about Five with their 20s. I write the same about the characters of Harry Potter.

Thank you, love💖. I did not do anything heavy or gross, it's just a cute love, I hope you like.

English is not my first language, so I so sorry if have a mistake.

Requests are open. Love you ❤️

Couple: Five Hargreeves / Fem! Reader.

Warnings: explicit smut, swearing, but just cute smut and fluff.

— — — — —

Five Hargreeves was not known for being kind, much less sentimental. He had always been acid, ironic and arrogant, he put himself on a pedestal at levels of intelligence, ability, and always had the last word. Five did not belong to the category of men who were influenced by emotions, nor did snatched up when he saw a beautiful woman. He had always had an iron control by imposing on his feelings, like controlling his own breathing.

Then, being known for this exasperating personality, the uproar was Homeric when, for the first time, Five Hargreeves fell to his knees by a woman. In a deep and abysmal drop.

He was frighteningly in love with you. Body and soul. And the Hargreeves brothers were shocked, to say the least, when they realized all the care Five had for you, all the bright and passionate look, the easy smile whenever you also smiled too. They could see that Five saw you as an exorbitantly rare tropical treasure, something he could never miss.

No one had thought Five was the type who needed something to keep breathing, for his world to keep spinning; an object or a person. But everyone saw that if there was something, it would be you. None of the Hargreeves know how Five became so dependent, so addicted, but they were content with the joyful gleam in their brother's eyes whenever you showed up.

Five Hargreeves was not known for being sentimental, but if you asked him to jump, he’ll aks ‘how right?’.

And perhaps it was because of all this, and more, that after a particularly dangerous mission that yielded some scratches, Five went to your apartment, not to his own home.

“Oh my God!” You exclaimed, throwing the book you were reading on the bed and running to where the blue flash left your boyfriend's figure. Bruised and bloody. “Honey, are you okay?”

As soon as your hands, worried and trembling, touched Five's skin to remove the mask, he let out a low, satisfied sigh, as if your touch was the medicine for all him pains. That mission took the best of him, and Five just needed you, to feel better.

Always you.

“Some terrorists insisted on fighting.” Five rolled his eyes, now without the mask “What is it about these motherfuckers wanting to fight even when they know they are going to lose? It's fucking annoying.”

You laughed softly, your hands still working to remove him suit, tie and unbutton stained shirt.

“I was so worried.” You sighed, scanning every bit of it with agitated eyes, seeing if nothing was out of place or worrying.

“Oh, were you?”

You didn't have to look him in the eye to know that Five gave you a smug expression. The whole voice was charged with malice and arrogance, and you contained a little smile.

“Of course. I always stay when you go on these missions.” You came closer, resting your hands on him abdomen, tilting your lips in the direction of him and giving a small and loving kiss.

Five hummed contentedly, bringing his hands to your hips and giving an annoyed sigh when you walked away, clearly wanting more.

“Let's go to the bath, you need to take all that blood and relax a little.”

“Is this an invitation?” He arched his left eyebrow in a suggestive gesture, with a sly smile and a smug look.

You rolled your eyes and laughed, taking you to the bathroom of your apartment. “Not. You need to relax.”

You opened the bathroom door and turned on the shower, while Five started to undress, the blood dripping on the bathroom floor.

“I was thinking that...” Your sentence was lost in the air when you turned around and found Five completely undress.

You looked down at the blood-spattered neck, the broad shoulders that went down to a broad chest. Him skin was prickly from the cold breeze and the blood that was already drying, giving a sinister and exciting tone to the scene. You swallowed, something starting to vibrate in your core, the atmosphere becoming caustic. But your eyes continued to drop, memorizing every inch of skin, making way to his V line and…

“Enjoying the view, beautiful?”

You looked up into the green eyes, finding a smirk.

“I-I j-jus…” Suddenly, you didn't know what to do with your hands, what to say or how to act.

You had seen Five naked several times, but always... always took your breath away. He was frighteningly gorgeous. That left you with not axis, with the rotation of the Earth stopped, with reason itself running away. It was a sin like him beautiful, the blood droplets spattered on the snow-white skin, attracted you even more.

“No... actually, I'm seeing the blood you're leaving on the floor, you know?” You made up an excuse, blinking assiduously “I hate it.”

But it was only logical that he did not believer. The malicious smile widened and gained an arrogant and convinced touch, while Five approached in calm and dangerous steps, like a hunter to its prey.

Him long fingers touched your cheek, while Five leaned over and whispered in your ear:

“You say you hate it but your red face is telling me otherwise.”

You felt the heat build up in your cheeks even more, you let out a nervous little laugh as you rested both hands on him chest and looked up at his.

“Do you know how beautiful you are? It’s truly distracting.” You confessed.

Five laughed, a laugh from one who knows he is beautiful and one who is pleased to please the only person who matters. It was a beautiful, true sound. His touch on your skin became sweeter, and he leaned towards your mouth and captured you in a soft kiss.

This time, it was you who sighed. An involuntary sigh of full satisfaction and delight. As if Five were your oasis in the desert.

You two haven't had that kind of contact in a few days. Five was having missions that demanded a lot of attention and care, and the exam week at your college had arrived. The two of you said on the phone that everything was fine, that you both were going to be fine these days, but the truth was that you missed him so much.

“I missed you.” You sighed on him lips, giving him another chaste kiss just because you could.

“Me too.” Him fingers caressed your cheek, moving away afterwards so you don’t get bloody too.

Suddenly, your whole line of reasoning has so far melted away like sand in the wind, like a broken violin string. You just felt your heart racing, your body heating up and the atmosphere becoming lyrical and stuffy.

“I think...” You sighed, your hands still on him chest. “That this is an invitation yes.” You agreed with his joke from seconds ago.

Hargreeves laughed, shaking his head and leaving a kiss on your neck.

“I was kidding, I don't want you to end up getting soiled with all that blood, too." He pointed to the small blood marks that remained on your cheek because of his touch.

Truth be told, you weren't worried. The longing hit you like a wave that was too strong and dragged you to the sea, drowning you. You wanted to touch it, kiss it, stick to it as if it were able to stop time. Five noticed the feelings in your eyes, and laughed at how you were as addicted to the love of the two of you as he was. Leaning down once more, Five splashed a kiss on your lips:

“Just let me finish this and I swear I will go down on your and make you cum three times.”

You laughed, stunned by a whirlwind of sensation and emotion at the same time. You agreed, and left the bathroom while Five entered the stall.

As soon as you sat on the bed, trying to process your own reactions, the warm autumn night breeze came in through the big window, carrying a caustic expectation on back and hitting you without mercy. Suddenly, everything became flustered, pulsating, the hemisphere seemed more malicious, with a sensual and romantic tone. If you had to describe that moment with the five senses, you would say that the light of the world has gone down to become the flickering flame of a candle, adorning the world with a red veil of romance.

The showering noise and your heartbeat were the only things you could hear. And when the hot mist of steam started to come out of the bathroom door, it was like a mesmerizing invitation, a call you couldn't refuse. You swallowed, noticing that your hands were shaking softly, as if this were your first time. But your whole body and soul screamed for him name. As the only antidote to your disease.

You stood up, pulled your T-shirt over your head, and got rid of your bra and sleeping shorts, taking your panties to the floor as well. Puffing out the chest of something you didn't know what it was, you went to the bathroom door again, opening it gently. The masculine silhouette blurred by the glass in the shower stoked your heartbeat even more, and suddenly you were burning with a caustic and delicious expectation.

When you opened the glass door and stepped into the shower, Five opened his eyes wider at your presence. There had been no need for condescending and malicious words, phrases or smiles. Five's eyes burned in the same desire and need as you, as if he were burning in the same hell. He looked at you as if he had waited all his life for that moment, as if he had cried out for you and you appeared to him, like a muse in the middle of a wild night.

Five held your face with both hands, leaning over and kissing you with all the devotion in the world. At that moment, the world seemed to have reached its highest note, its climax. You put your arms around him neck, sighing a low moan of satisfaction when he pulled you closer, sticking your whole body in his, being hit by the hot water in the bath.

Five Hargreeves was not known for being sentimental. But, in that second, he kissed you and touched you with all the affection and love that existed in the world. He didn't run, he didn't hurry, he didn't eat you like if last meal. No, he slowly ran his hands over your body, letting his tongue caress yours, enveloped in all the longing and love he felt for you.

You let out a sigh much like him name and a plea, more in need than ever. Five dropped his hands to your thighs, propelling you upwards and making you hook your legs on him hips, being held in him lap.

“I missed you.” Five released it in your mouth, seeking air as turned the two of you around, trapping your body between the wall and his body, kissing you again, giving you no time to respond.

You gasped, pressing your fingers to the black strands at the nape of his neck, wiggling hip gently over him, looking for any friction, any stimulation. But Five was as needy as you are, as needy, so he dropped a hand to him own member and positioned it at the entrance to your dripping center.

At that moment, you looked up at him, and Five fixed the green orbs on you, maintaining intense and fiery eye contact. The second he entered you, and you opened your mouth in a silent, aching groan, Five was still nailed to you, and him expression of pleasure when he hit rock bottom was exorbitantly exciting for you. Five clasped his hands on your hips, pursing his lips and frowning at the pleasure he felt, which reverberated through his veins, making him feel infinitely more alive, more intense. He withdrew and sank again, slowly, eliciting a loud moan in you.

“I love you.” You sighed on him lips, and that was the end for Five.

Everything hit Five in a fierce wave. All desire, passion, pleasure and love. Everything smashed under him with such force that Five wrapped his arms around your waist, steadying himself on you as he sank deeper into your hot and wet core, establishing a slow and intense rhythm. You moaned, gasped and sighed loudly, and Five buried his face in the curve of your neck, beating his own hot moans against your skin.

“God, I love you so fucking much!” He groaned, speeding up his movements even more, delighting in how you felt so good, so perfect. So of him.

You screamed his name softly, squeezing him and moving your hips more at the same pace, swallowing his member as much as you could, pulsing around him. Five let out a loud, broken groan, pinning your shoulder against his teeth, trying to stifle groans as he came in and out of you.

Jesus Christ! You were so tight, so wet, so hot and so fucking fucked up. So perfect for him.

Five removed his face from your neck, pulling head back just far enough to look at your body, with a louder groan escaping at the sight he had. You were fucking beautiful! All the curves in the right places, all the wonderful softness of a woman. Another moan escaped, and his eyes fell to the place where him dick disappeared between your smooth folds, leaving and entering more and more luscious, wetter, more swollen with desire and pleasure.

He wasn't going to wait long. Not with so much time without you, not with how much you were fucking hot, not with the overwhelming pleasure he felt. Five tilted his mouth to your breast, capturing a nipple and sucking, keeping his mouth there while hitting that place that drove you the most crazy.

"F-five!"

You groaned, arching your back to him, your legs closing more around hin waist, your chest rising and falling openly, as the hot water cascaded over you two.

“You are so, so much beautiful!” He groaned against your breast, as if in pain, as if everything was too much for him and he felt he could explode.

His suffering tone and totally submerged in pleasure took you to the limit. You came intensely, throwing your head back and arching your body in him arms, letting out a louder cry as you felt Five's hot liquid fill your walls, stocking both of you as deep as possible inside you.

“I love you, I love you.” You stuck your mouth to his, sighing.

Still breathless, Five admitted: “I'm going to marry you someday.”

You opened a smile that Five considered the most wonderful and beautiful thing he has ever seen.

“Don’t smile at me like that. You know it drives me crazy.” He said and you laughed out loud, pulling Five into a passionate kiss.

[rumblelibrary]

hii!! i saw your requests are open, if you’re not too busy could you write something about Laszlo falling in love with reader (she’s a friend of Sara’s and helping with the case) but he keeps trying to avoid his feelings and remain professional and friendly until then he gets jealous of Marcus (or maybe John whoever you think works best) and starts being mean and pushing her away and then John or Sara are like “really?? can you not see that she likes you?” and he apologizes and it’s all fluffy at the end??

that was a bit long sorry, i hope you’re having a great day💗💗

Worlds Apart [Dr Laszlo Kreizler x Reader]

Word count: 2.5k

Warnings: Laszlo being his usual adorable dumbass

Author’s note: Thank you so much for giving me the chance to write your story, hope you’ll enjoy it 💗💗

The first time your presence graced him was on an infamous rainy day. He didn’t mind rain, but it was the kind of storm that forced kids inside the Institute and some of them really benefitted of the time spent outside. So when you appeared at his doorstep escorted by Cyrus, a little of wetness on your shoulders and your hat, arms tightly grasping a big bunch of paper folders, untouched by the heavy weather clearly at your expenses, you looked like a gift from the above.

“Sara Howard contacted me, My name is Y/N Y/L/N, I work for the Town Hall Archives” you introduced yourself, a polite smile softening him. “It is my pleasure to finally meet you, Dr Kreizler” you added.

He blinked realising he was staring while your words moved past him without affecting him.

“Please, Sara told me you are going to be vital in the unravelling of this case, call me Laszlo”

He opened his arm on side letting you in as Cyrus walked away closing the door behind himself. A sense of guilt creeping over him, he realised how low his mind went to appreciate your physical side first and your sweet smile next, if men were anything different from the beasts, then why indulge still in such raw details. From that moment on, he decided, he would not do you the same disrespect. Little he knew that once he forbid himself to take grace of the sight of you, he would be overwhelmed by your bright mind. As you exposed those files to him you two started working together, day after day, time after time, a little dance of turning pages, soft smile, excited discoveries. Your smile affecting him in unpredicted ways, your good heart weakening his mask, your calm demure forbidding his raging fits. Anything of you made him better, any part of you was loved and worshipped by him, your position quickly transitioning from helpful hand, to admirable being and now to an ideal. A sense of necessity creeping over him every time you closed the space between the two of you to show him something, every time he stared at you wrapped up some archive ladder to find this or that file. Another thing you earned from him with time, the hardest maybe, was the ability to make him chuckle. You weren’t a goofball but you knew when to break down his thought process to bring him back to a quieter state. He liked you, he was even considering to offer you to leave the Town Hall Archives to work as his secretary at the Institute. The benefits of your presence made his work better and your natural tendency to method blessing his day to day activities with balance. Laszlo didn’t like to admit it, but a sense of possessiveness was also growing on him, he knew what was going on in his mind, or to better say it in his heart, but he refused to acknowledge it. The case was on, after the case maybe.

Or maybe never.

That’s what he thought when, after an interview at the house of a potential future patient of the institute, he took a stroll on the main road, his eyes darting on the flower shop only to recognise you there. Your figure associated with the colourful gifts of nature made his heart skip a beat, a sense of joy filled him soon to disappear when Marcus Isaacson figure appeared beside you holding three or four different kind of flowers in large bouquets, all of them meaning something love related: attraction, desire, kinship.

Those meanings pestered his thoughts, your soft laugh hitting his ears like an angel choir. Your hand lifting up as Marcus bowed his head toward you, your bare fingers running through his curls pulling out some wild leaf that got tangled among them.

“Silly me” he chanted like a child that has zero guilt about earning something undeserved “Come on Y/N, pick your favourite, I can’t hold them all forever”.

Laszlo’s eyes narrowed on him, hating the urgency in his voice, before drifting on the big bouquets, the carnations attracting his gaze, the meaning: pure love, faithfulness, also motherly love.

“The carnations” you said without a doubt moving your arms among the flower to pick them, the closeness you shared rubbing Laszlo in the wrong way.

A sudden realisation hitting him, rage boiling as he turned on his heels to rush to the Institute. What a fool he was, mistaking your natural kindness for…what? Interest for a cripple? Tenderness for a lonely angry man? His jaw clenched, rage surging through him, on that day the door of his office slammed so hard nobody dared to call for him, not even for dinner. When the next day you came to bring some papers and revise some new information, he was keeping a two meters distance all the time, if not more. Anything you said was welcomed with sounds the usual good morning disappeared.

“Laszlo” you called him after more than one hour spent welcomed by only silence and grunts “Did something happen? Maybe, I could help..”

“What exactly gives the impression I need your help?” He shot back before you could even mutter another sentence or even conclude the one you just begun.

His eyes raising from the papers he was holding, his hand moved to his glasses taking them off “As far as my knowledge goes, you’re here to support the investigation with documents and research, not to interfere with my personal life or a job like mine that requires not only tact but also a severe respect of the patient’s privacy”

You closed your mouth suddenly as he never reacted in such a way toward you. Usually he seemed to like to engage with you, to hear your thoughts and opinions, now his hard glare was dooming over you like the Judgment Day.

“I apologise” you resumed to say, maybe it was a bad day, those bad days John teased him about so many times, but that you never encountered before.

So you moved back to your spot respecting the distance he wanted, he put his glasses back on the bridge of his nose.

Nothing more was said.

That evening when you were about to leave you thanked him and wished him a good night, as you always did. Silence again, only one hand to be lifted as he didn’t even turn to talk to you. His reaction gutted you and from that day on to visit him turned into the heaviest hours of the day. There was no room for chat, no room for accommodation. You even brought some sweets one day thinking he might like it and he handed those just as quickly to the kids. You even asked him if you wronged him and he said there was nothing wrong.

After two weeks like this, you sat behind your desk at the Town Hall resigned to live with his silence, you stared at a little note he wrote to you once to thank you of your help with some documents titles underneath.

I admire your dedication to the case. Your help is invaluable L.K.

You read, but that didn’t stand anymore, for some reason.

“What’s that long face for?”

Sara asked leaning against your desk as you slipped that piece of paper underneath your notebook. You already gave Laszlo all the documents requested, you could throw that away, but you didn’t.

“I think I upset Dr Kreizler”

Sara looked at you surprised by the way you resumed calling him by his title, like you were trying to gain distance from him. You looked at her incisive look as you quietly explained to her your fears and doubts, what was going on and how you probably should ask John a way to repair the situation, because you were clueless. After your conversation Sara didn’t think about it twice and after concluding her duties she stormed at Laszlo’s office only to find him engaged in the billionth argument with John.

“What have you told to Y/N?”

She asked, a proper mad mama bear as she stared at him mercilessly, she was aiming for the throat and John looked at him puzzled.

“What have you done Laszlo? Having a fine woman interested on you hits so differently?”

Laszlo was about to answer Sara when he suddenly felt attacked on too many fronts.

“Wait, I beg your pardon? I think you have got into some mistake, John”

John looked at him and then at Sara as she shook her head impatiently and already fed up with Laszlo’s ways.

“She does like you Laszlo, where is your problem about it?” She inquired more “Is she not a doctor enough for your likings? Do you want a duchess or something? Because I don’t understand, if you’re not interested to her at least be human”

By this moment Laszlo was still incredule and a chuckle almost left his lips

“I think you are mistaken Sara, Y/N is in a relationship with Marcus Isaacson, I stumbled upon them already”

“Marcus? I thought he was seeing that Esther girl, Lucius complained about his lack of focus more than once, how did you manage to erase her interest that quick Laszlo?” John said surprised and Sara had to hold onto her iron will not to slap the both of them in their faces.

“You two are worse than any little town blabbermouth” she snapped.

John frowned feeling accused and Laszlo was ready to give her a lecture that could last until the end of times when you walked inside in a rush.

“Excuse me” you said out of breath, mud stained your dress as you clearly run your way to her Institute handing them a file “This just came”.

You gulped down as Sara glared at Laszlo while she guided you to have a glass of water.Laszlo studied the document without even acknowledging your presence, another victim served on a plate.

That evening he went to see the body, the Isaacson’s giving a full display of the wounds and marks on the body to him and John. By the rules of the obituary, you and Sara weren’t welcomed inside as they were.  You sat silently, slowly tracing the stain on your skirt thinking how bad Laszlo’s impression of you must be now that you even showed yourself in such an improper manner, such a gentleman like him witnessing you in such a state. When they came out of the obituary Sara stood up as you remained sat, the warm presence of Laszlo now hunting you like a ghost every time he is around.

“The murderer knows we re close” Laszlo stated as he sighed, ashamed that another life was lost “I think that this victim in particular..”

“Y/N!”

Marcus interrupted him rushing out of the obituary with his bloody apron still on, his less than sanitary clean hand on your shoulder as Laszlo was ready to reduce the both of you to dust for interrupting him.

“Excuse me Doctor” Marcus head shot up to him before looking back down at you “Thank you for helping with the gifts, Esther adored them, we are going out again tonight” he said excitedly to you and a big smile, the first of the day, blossomed on your lips.

“I told you, you should trust me more often” you said and he nodded vehemently “If things go this good, I will come to ask you to help me with the ring” he said completely hyped up, bouncing curls everywhere, as you crossed your fingers for him and he repeated the gesture before disappearing again called by his brother who was fed up with his love talks already.

Sara crossed her arms as John’s stare went up to Laszlo’s face, the sudden realisation of his mistake hit him like a bag of bricks. A mix of shame and happiness filling him up. And now the doubt: did he ruined his chances forever? The next morning you came into his office, you never stopped wishing him good morning and being polite, no matter his attitude.

“Y/N” he called you as you were placing your belongings aside. Your surprised look due to his softened tone was unmissable to him.

“Come here, I wish to talk to you”

You grew nervous as he didn’t say much else, so you walked to him sitting on the couch beside him, the one where you shared so many talks not too long before, even if now it felt like an eternity.

“I want to apologise to you” he blurted out all together, no need to move around the topic even though that only affirmation run over you harder than any other phrase.

You didn’t reply, allowing him to proceed.

“I apologise, because I have been selfish and foolish” he said, the fingers of his left hand touching nervously the armchair “I have been mistreating you only because my pride was hurt, I have acted like a man without means and courage.”

You parted your lips but he interrupted you before you could even begin.

“Please, let me finish, I have felt from the beginning a prominent fondness toward you. Your character and your kindness make you a remarkable person, you have the talent of bringing out the best out of most people, me included. But I have misread your ways and pointed your natural disposition to a form of romantic interest directed on me and our common friend Marcus Isaacson”

He was still excluding the possibility of you being attracted to him.

“I thought there was something behind it and I acted like a child instead of asking you directly, and I am ashamed for that”

You stared at him, a little smile creeping onto your lips.

“I think you misread only half of the situation Laszlo, as always you’re too unkind on yourself” you said gathering all the courage you had “because my interest toward you was honest while my relationship with Marcus is nothing by friendly”

Now it was Laszlo’s turn to be silenced, a new realisation creeping into his bones, a hope becoming a possibility.

“And is that honest interest still alive after my despicable ways?”

Your smile grew pulled by the redness spreading on your cheeks.

“Maybe” he interrupted. He didn’t want to wait for your answer, your smile spoke for you “maybe we can further bring this conversation to Delmonico’s, tonight, just the two of us”

Your smile grew bigger, his eyes shining for you.

“It will be my pleasure” you answered only, not knowing a bouquet of carnations was already being delivered at your house to welcome you once you’ll be back.

Tagged @cazzyimagines @lieutenantn @handmaiden-of-mischief@thesunflowersutra @zemomybeloved​ @fictionlandslanddreams @charistory @greeneyedblondie44 @apparrio Let me know if you want to get tagged too <3