#both being /so/ normal about wanting to spend the rest of (searching for one piece/becoming a sword master) their lives togehter

[beaulesbian]

Luffy & Zoro + being so normal about each other

[adiluv-moved]

♡ JOHN DOE + PARENTING HCS. ˚⊹꒷

﹕₊˚ʚ❤️ɞ・[word count] 1268.

﹕₊˚ʚ🐞ɞ・[warnings] yandere character [technically; no yandere behavior demonstrated], not edited/proofread.

﹕₊˚ʚ🖤ɞ・[adi moment] thank you for the request, 🐎 anon!! this was honestly such a cute concept to think about, and i honestly had a lot of fun writing about it!! i hope you enjoy!! +:꒰◍•ᴗ•◍꒱:+

╰₊˚ʚ🔪ɞ・Now, You had never expected to actually have children with Doe. You knew that him being inhuman wouldn’t pair well with actually reproducing, and it was something that you had come to accept. Besides, if the both of you really wanted kids at some point, it would be more than possible to adopt. So, it was pretty shocking when Doe walked up to you one morning with a tiny hairball in his hands, his eyes sparkling as his skin seemed to melt. And it was even more shocking when he set the tiny thing in your hands and started yelling about being a father. 

╰₊˚ʚ🔪ɞ・This was certainly not the first time that Doe had made a tiny hairball during the time of your relationship, with Doe making them fairly often in order to help with menial tasks around the apartment - or just as a way to stay closer to You whenever you two had to be separated. However, it was the first time that he had ever been this excited over one, and it would take you some time to calm him down enough to explain why. Turns out, he had forgotten to reabsorb this particular Doe-ball, meaning that it had already started to develop its own conscience. That is, you two would soon become parents. 

╰₊˚ʚ🔪ɞ・You were somewhat conflicted upon processing Doe’s words. On one hand, you weren’t really opposed to keeping the tiny little thing - though the entire news of this happening was… extremely sudden. And while Doe was extremely excited by the idea of having another addition to the apartment, he did understand if you would rather not keep it around. This would lead to a long talk between the two of you where you would discuss the roles and importance of parenthood, ultimately culminating in the decision of whether or not the Doe-ball would stay.

╰₊˚ʚ🔪ɞ・The two of you would come to your consensus by the time the Sun started setting, in which it was decided that the doe-ball would stay, and that you two would accept the roles of being their parents. The initial happiness of having a new addition to your humble apartment would wear off rather quickly, however, when You realized how shockingly unprepared the place was for a child. You would spend your evening making many Boogle searches, which seemed to be some strange Valley combination of Bing and Google. Doe, however, would spend most of his time outside gathering materials to create a false body for the new addition, a task that he would begin after returning home for the night. 

╰₊˚ʚ🔪ɞ・You would spend the entirety of the next day at home with Doe, waiting for the new ball to gain a full sense of conscience and completely leave Doe’s mind. This was something that took the entire morning, though Doe was quick to alert you when he felt something slip out of his thoughts. Barely a few minutes later, and the eyeball of your new child opened up. You had to stop Doe from squeezing the poor thing to death in his excitement. 

╰₊˚ʚ🔪ɞ・Moving away from an actual scenario to more spread out headcanons, Doe would honestly be a pretty good parent, even though he may not fully understand what he’s doing a lot of the time. He remembers just how tough things were for him when he had slipped away from the motherball, and how scary it was to try and escape its home in one piece. As such, he’d always do his best to make sure that his little Doe-ball is comfortable, especially at home.

╰₊˚ʚ🔪ɞ・Something that he would also strive for is the ability to give your little Doe-ball as normal as a life they can have. And while the standards of normal are incredibly different between the Valley and the rest of the world, You also do your best to help. After learning more about the stages of human aging, Doe would go out of his way to create new faux bodies for the little Doe-ball as they age, and he’d also sacrifice some extra mass to them in order to help them better fit into the new body. This would lead them to age in a very natural fashion, with some of your family and friends outside of the Valley even believing they were a human.

╰₊˚ʚ🔪ɞ・In case it wasn’t already obvious, Doe is absolutely the more lenient parent. He would let his little Doe-ball get away with anything they wanted, even if it’s reckless or otherwise just not a good idea. You’re honestly pretty sure that he would help them cover up a crime if they ended up committing one… which is definitely something You do your best to counteract. It’s pretty difficult, however, when they start to take advantage of Doe’s ability to help them get a lighter punishment from you. 

╰₊˚ʚ🔪ɞ・Would be the classic sentimental and protective father as the Doe-ball continues to get older. He would be melting into a puddle as you both wave them off to their first day of preschool, and practically already one with the floor when it’s time for them to enroll into kindergarten. It would take all of the strength you have to keep him from chasing after the schoolbus on their first day, and you would most definitely have to drag him back to the apartment after it gets out of sight. And trust me when I say that he’ll make that endeavor as hard as it could possibly be as he dramatically blows into a handkerchief that he just managed to find somewhere. 

╰₊˚ʚ🔪ɞ・Doe’s sentimentality and protectiveness wouldn't change much as the Doe-ball continues into being a teenager, which would lead to him being a pretty clingy parent. His protectiveness and clinginess would probably only continue to get worse as they try to become more independent, and you would have to sit Doe down and have a long talk about children needing more space and personal time as they age. Even though it would take him a while to fully accept that your child is getting older, he would do his best to try and give them the space that they want, though he might not always be successful. It's a process, though your child seems more than happy to see him try, and that's honestly all you could ask for.

╰₊˚ʚ🔪ɞ・Doe would absolutely be the type of parent to try and get all of you to wear those sorts of matching clothes and stuff. And although You normally wouldn't be the type to participate in those sorts of things, it's pretty hard to say no when he's showing you all of the things that he found while staring at you with his big doe eyes. [I couldn't resist…] He would continue to buy matching things for the three of you for quite some time, though he'd stop if your Doe-ball felt uncomfortable or embarrassed doing it. 

╰₊˚ʚ🔪ɞ・Doe would also be the type of parent who loves going on field trips. Without fail, the three of you would wind up in some random corner of the valley every weekend, usually with… less than positive results. From somehow sneaking you all into strictly private areas to nearly getting you all eaten by Maison [who, given your last encounter with him, would have certainly taken the opportunity], Doe just doesn’t have the best luck when it comes to selecting a destination. Luckily, you’d eventually manage to convince him to let you choose the places you visit, but there’s pretty much always some random hijink that takes things down a much more hectic path.

[demonsandco]

hi!! i was wondering if you could do a headcannon of the brothers + dia, barb and simeon reacting to mc asking if they could do it in their demon/angel forms?

I sure hope that by “demon form” you meant my version of their forms, because only after I finished writing, did I remember that they have canonical demon forms, too, woops! But Simeon doesn’t have a non-human form in-game so hopefully I was right gjhfkfjh

Lucifer : It’s a rare occurrence to see Lucifer speechless, yet somehow they’ve managed to stun him into silence with a single request. Being intimate in his demon form isn’t something that’s even crossed his mind before, not seeing his true form as anything more than a tool for intimidation. With too many eyes, elongated limbs, and crisscrossing scars highlighted by patches of missing feathers, he truly doesn’t understand what they see in him to pick that over his much more palatable, human form. Yet, despite his initial shock and hesitance, he can’t find it in him to deny their request. If they really want to see his true form, especially in such an intimate setting, then he’ll humor them, but the entire time he’s preparing himself for some sort of rejection, expecting them to flinch away from his touch or to ask him to switch back. He’s astonishingly vulnerable in this form, and craves a positive reaction from them.

(cont under the cut)

Mammon : When he hears their request, Mammon’s relief is palpable. Having sex in his human from has always felt distant to him, as though he were wearing a costume or a skin tight suit. He’s desperate to feel their hands on his demon form, often fantasising about how their hands would feel running across his wings or buried in his feathers, but, while he may have not so subtly hinted at his desires in the past, he’s never had the courage to initiate such a thing himself. He’s immensely excited about their request, so excited in fact that he’s prepared to stop whatever he was doing and drag them off to somewhere private to have his way with them. It also encourages him to spend more time in his demon form around them, now that he knows that it won’t scare them away.

Leviathan : Levi’s knee-jerk reaction is to say no right off the bat. As much as he trusts his partner, he can’t help but think that there’s some sort of ulterior motive behind the request, refusing to believe that anyone would actually want to see his demon form, much less touch it in such an intimate way. While his true form grants him confidence and immeasurable power, in a relationship, it becomes his biggest insecurity. It takes a lot of patience and encouragement to convince him to go through with it, and even then he’s hesitant to even touch them, worried that they’ll think he’s creepy or gross and change their mind. It doesn’t help that he’s practically useless on land and that they’d need to join him in the water to comfortably have sex. He’s understandably nervous, but praise and affection go a long way in easing his worries, and once he gets a taste of how nice it feels, he finds himself asking them to be intimate in his demon form more often.

Satan : Satan isn’t all that surprised by their request. In fact, he’d been expecting it to come up sooner or later. After all, he wants to know every intimate detail about his partner, to see them in their most vulnerable state, so he assumes that they’d eventually want to get to know his true form intimately, as well. He feels some anxiety, of course, his demon form not exactly being human friendly, all rough skin and sharp edges, but he does a good job at keeping his fears at bay and enjoying the moment. It feels freeing, in a way, to have them accept him so readily, to allow something as monstrous as him so close in such a vulnerable moment. With every soft touch of their hands and kiss from their lips, he finds himself falling in love all over again. He craves their acceptance, and the fact that they can see him at his worst and still show him love speaks volumes.

Asmodeus : As much as he wants to tease his partner for having such a lewd suggestion, or to think of it as a chance to introduce them to something new and pleasurable, the only thing Asmo feels at their request is genuine fear. There is very little that he’s afraid of, but the idea of them rejecting him is terrifying, and he’s convinced himself that no one could possibly love him if they saw his true form. He’s very calculated in what parts of his demon form he lets people see, making sure he looks cute and unassuming at all times. He has no problems showing those parts of him to his partner, but the rest of his demon form isn’t anywhere near as cutesy, and he doesn’t want them to associate him with such an “ugly” appearance. Yet at the same time, he wants to be able to be himself around them, to have them see the parts of him that he’s kept hidden. It takes a lot of worry and hesitation, before he finally shows them his true form during sex, the shared lust giving him the push he needed. He’s so prepared for a negative response that their positive reaction is enough to make him melt against them.

Beelzebub : It’s not uncommon for Beel to be seen in a not quite human form around the house, his wings and horns unconsciously coming out while he eats or works out. Knowing this, he’s surprised that his partner has seen those parts of him and instead of being scared, they want to see more. He’s not the type of person to hide who he is to make himself more palatable. He trusts them to know what they want, and he takes their request at face value. At first, he didn’t think too much of it, but the moment he feels them touch his true form, watches them search for his most sensitive areas, he becomes addicted to the feeling. The fact that he’s even bigger than normal in this form excites him more than he thought it would, too, his massive frame making his partner seem tiny in comparison. Needless to say, he finds himself letting his demon form out during sex more often, both because he wants to feel their touch again and because he finds it more comfortable.

Belphegor : Belphie is genuinely surprised that they’d want anything to do with his demon form after how badly things went the first time they saw it. Hearing that they not only want to see it again, but that they want to see it in such a vulnerable moment is a relief to him. He’s always thought that actions speak louder than words, and he sees their request as a sign of trust, something he values greatly. He’s more than happy to show them his demon form, to let them explore his body and create new, much more enjoyable, memories. He also takes it as an invitation to show his demon form more often, taking every opportunity he can to let out his horns as he cuddles up to them or conveniently resting his tail within petting range. Now that he knows they’re not scared of his appearance, he wants them to associate his form with positive and intimate moments.

Diavolo : Diavolo is positively ecstatic to hear their request! He’s wanted to don his true form while being intimate with them since the start of their relationship, but he’s held back out of worry, not wanting to risk frightening them. Truthfully, he’s not too fond of maintaining a human appearance for so long, and he’s almost too excited to let out his demonic features. Hopefully, they had nothing else planned for the day, because he’s already got them wrapped up in his many wings, with his scaly face pressed against their neck. He plans to take his time with them, practically acting as though it was their first time together again, treating them like a priceless treasure in his clawed grasp, showing them everything he can do in his true form that a human could never hope to accomplish.

Barbatos : Barbatos has been waiting for them to ask this for quite a while, and he can’t keep the small smile off his face when they finally do. While he’s perfectly comfortable in his human form, he feels as though it greatly limits his abilities in the bedroom, and he hates to think that he’s not pleasing them to the best of his abilities. He knows that his true form isn’t something a human would be used to, though, so he waited until they were confident enough to bring it up themselves. He sees it as taking the next step in their relationship in a way, knowing that they not only are willing to accept him for what he is, but that they embrace it. With his extra limbs, slick tail and long, powerful tongue, he’s more than happy to show them how much more skilled he is at servicing them in this form, and he’s also surprised to realise just how sensitive his demonic appendages are.

Simeon : It’s rare for Simeon to feel the need to turn his partner down, but he finds himself initially denying their request when they first ask, coming up with some half baked excuses in an attempt to avoid hurting their feelings. Humans never seem to react well to an angel’s true form and he can’t bear to see them regard him with fear, especially not during such an intimate moment. While his angelic appearance may not be as monstrous as a demons, the extra limbs, many eyes and inhumanly tall frame are more than enough to make him look rather disconcerting. Yet at the same time, he doesn’t like the thought of hiding his true form from them, leaving him conflicted. With enough reassurance, he eventually feels comfortable enough showing them bits and pieces of his angel form at a time, and each night they spend together his human form slips away a bit more. At first it’s just his wings, letting his partner run their hands over his sensitive feathers and getting used to the extra limbs, before slowly showing them more of him. Soon enough, he reaches a point where letting out his angel form around them is like a habit, feeling like it makes their time spent together feel more intimate, especially now that he knows his looks alone won’t scare them away.

[bloodycassian]

anon request - READER X AZRIEL - sorry if this wasn’t exactly what you want! I got a bit carried away in my own idea of Azriel being supportive but protective at the same time!

some hurt/comfort with Azriel where he and the reader get in a huge fight over protecting Elain (like they travel to a different court and Azriel is overprotective) and then the reader goes scouting to also cool down a bit and they get ambushed, the reader gets injured and the mating bond snaps. Hope it's not too much trouble!!

Elain was absurdly still as the conversation played out. Conversation being a loose term for the shouting happening around her. You didn’t leave her side though, even though your anger flourished while they spoke as if she wasnt there. Azriel was packing her things, shoving them haphazardly into a bag. The bag that Feyre had given her from their first trip down to the markets after Elain had started acting somewhat normal again. The happy memory seemed so distant now, compared to the anxiety ridden emotions that played about in the room.

“We are not going to the continent.” Az’s tone shift was abrupt, a snap of anger leaning into it. He tied the top of the bag closed and set it roughly atop the living room table. The scattered odds and ends of survival gear and weapons scraped against the wood. You watched the stare down between the high lord and his shadowsinger patiently. Waiting for your moment to speak rationally to them.

Rhys’ power roiled above, his eyes did not hide his frustration with his brother. His gaze was simmering with that dark power he possessed. Azriel did not back down. “The continent is the only place that may be safe. If the King finds out she’s a Seer he will never let her go. We can’t risk losing her as a hostage.”

You knew she would be a hostage too. Feyre would never let her sister be taken without a fight. Rhys knew his mate well enough to know not to risk just Elain, but Feyre too. Cauldron knew what Nesta would do if she were in that room during the conversation. Likely spitting fire and shoving Elain out the door to wherever she seemed to think was safe. Thankfully, both sisters were scouring deep in the library for any way to help win this battle.

Azriel did not break eyecontact with his brother as he made to speak again. You interrupted before he could make the situation worse. “I have somewhere in mind.” You spoke softly, urging the staring contest to end. Azriel looked away first, and you were surprised at that. His eyes met yours with something like relief. “Autumn. We have Eris on our side if we’re caught. I have a spot we can stay until-” Azriels scoff sent anger shooting through you. You clenched your teeth together to keep from lashing out at him as he had been doing just moments before. 

“Autumn is possibly the worst place we could send you right now. We’re on the brink of war with them potentially being on Hyberns side. We would be sending you straight to Hybern himself.” 

“Exactly. It’s stupid and they would never expect it.” 

“You’re not going. Beron exiled you. Don’t you remember what that means?” He looked at you with actual concern now that he knew you were serious. As if you had been injured and you were speaking a different language.

“It means we will be safe from Hybern when they come here to look for Elain. Isn’t that the point?” You wrapped an arm around her small shoulders and pulled her close. Az couldn’t argue with that. The other courts were not an option, as it would be harboring a target against one of the Night court Allies. And Winter court was nowhere to be spending the night. Not many survived the night there without shelter.

Rhys’ sigh was long and exhausted. Left without another option, he nodded to himself. He held out a hand and summoned two necklaces, both with pendants of black onyx that shimmered in the firelight. Az’s brows pinched together at the sight of them. The dull glow behind him shone through his wings, highlighting all the delicate structures there. You found his wings more beautiful than the enchanted stone Rhys handed you.

“Hybern won’t be able to sense your magic. Keep these on.” 

Azriel was already tensing, his fists balling at his sides ready to make it physical if Rhys refused to listen. He knew with his entire being that something was off. Something would go wrong this night. His shadows warned him of something. And he couldn’t shake it no matter how hard he tried. “Rhys-”

“And you will be going with them. Keep them company while Feyre and I investigate just how many ships and forces they plan to bring.” He ordered in that indisputable tone of the high lord. With only a hint of friendliness. He gave Az a long look before turning back to you and Elain. “Do not take those off.” The nodded to the necklaces and started to winnow. Elain stood abruptly, startling you. 

“Thank you.” She said softly to the high lord. He seemed taken aback for a second, before giving her a gracious nod and finally disappearing. You rose to Elain’s height and took her hand in yours. It was warm, welcoming. “We’re going to be fine.” You promised, not caring if Azriel saw the care you gave her. She had been there for you just as you needed to be now. She had practically kept you alive with her soft humming and reading to you when you were at your worst after being exiled. 

 “I know.” She said, voice soft as rose petals. But that dark power within her were the thorns of that pretty, perfect rose. The reason Hybern even knew to look in Velaris for Elain. That cauldron calling power that she couldn’t control to save her life. You grimly smiled at her.

“We need to leave.” Azriel ordered, tone neutral. Just a warrior needing to move troops.

“Let me get your bag.” Elain said, giving you a squeeze of her hand, disappearing up the stairs. Leaving you with the brooding Illyrian. You grimaced in his direction. He ignored you as best he could, hoping that the time for babysitting would pass quickly. He had always found it strange how you and Elain moved like magnets together. Found the soft way you comforted each other somehow upsetting. He paced quietly in front of the fire while you gathered your gear. Two small blades - one for Elain - and your sword. You rubbed at a speck on the hard steel of the sword. 

Perhaps his lack of family had made that rivaling jealousy turn into hatred for the display of affection. He contemplated to himself. Had he become cold to everyone? Too harsh? Had the darkness he possessed taken him over? He tore his eyes from your short sword and locked them with yours. The thrill he felt wasn’t from anger or terror. His cheeks flushed slightly and you fought the grin that you wanted so badly to flaunt at him. The innuendos regarding the sword that you wanted to say were cut off by that look he gave you.

“Do not get into a situation where you have to use that.” He warned with a stern look. You couldn’t help the angelic smile you gave him.

+

The smell of rotting apples and decaying leaves was all you needed to sense to know you were home. You took in the court border slowly, adjusting to your orientation after being winnowed. Elain clutched your hand tightly, the bag in her other hand quivered only slightly from her shaking. Your hands became slick with sweat at the familiar sights and smells of Autumn. You hadn’t been back since being exiled.

“We wont be able to have a fire.” Azriel stated, gazing towards the sky. It was far too clear of a day out to risk it. The slight chill in the air filled your stomach with dread for the night to come. 

“This way.” You pulled Elain along with you, leaves crunching under your feet as you entered Autumn court. She didn’t move. Her eyes were blank, staring lifelessly into the orange and yellow forest. “Elain?” You asked softly.

“Five foxes will die tonight. Three more in the morning.” 

Her words sent a chill down your spine.

Az took the lead, territoriality putting himself a few paces in front of you. He wasn’t subtle about it either, occasionally jogging ahead to scout for any enemies around piles of bramble when you came across it. 

By the time you found your hideout, you were fed up with waiting for him to give you the all clear everywhere you went. You let you go of Elains now calm hand and stormed into the small shack with familiarity. Azriel hissed and seethed when you lit a lantern inside. “Get over yourself, Shadowsinger.” You laughed, taking in the small piece of home you made for yourself long ago. 

It indeed was a long time ago when you’d last been there. But it still felt homey to you. The small space was just big enough for a stove, the table you’d found, and a bed pushed against the far wall. The fireplace hadn’t been used in years. Soot marked small animal prints along the light plank floors.

The dusty blankets on the makeshift bed were pocked with holes from mice and moths. The fireplace was nearly caved in on itself. The bramble covering that acted like a second roof was growing through the actual roof in some places. But it was still home. Your small exit from the world when things got too tough. Even after being exiled Beron hadn’t known about this place. He would have had it destroyed if he did know of it.

Elain pushed in passed Azriel. His shadows went wild. Searching every surface of the cabin. The long beams of the floor were hardly visible through the darkness he brought. 

+

You knew you should have brought more blankets. You held back the teeth chattering as best you could, letting Elain sleep. She would need all the rest she could get. You could tell she’d been tired after the days walk. She rested peacefully under the layers while the wind shuddered the leaves outside. You pulled your coat tighter to your body. 

“This was a stupid idea.” Azriel muttered from the corner. He didn’t seem cold, but the dark curls of shadow wrapped around him protectively. While you were left with nothing more than a coat. Your own magic couldn’t save you from the stormy wind, the necklace Rhys had given you also weakened your power enough that you couldn’t use it. Even in your homeland. It bothered you endlessly, feeling so useless in such a dire situation of needing to help Elain. 

“Then maybe you should just leave.” You barked back simply. He didn’t have to come in the first place if he was going to be so bothered. 

“I just mean-” He sighed, and sat on the creaky old table that took up half the small kitchenette. “We could have done this better. We could have planned… Differently.” 

“We didnt have the time. We’re here now, so we just need to deal-”

“I know that. I’m just bothered that you’re so recklessly looking for danger everywhere we go.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean? I’m from here Azriel. I know what areas are dangerous.” 

“Maybe once.” His eyes were not angry when he said it. They were full of pity and doubt. Your rage spilled over, and you were ready to shout. Ready to scream at him about what a piggish idiot Illrian he was being. But Elain turned over, sighing softly to herself. 

So instead, you clamped down on that burning anger and walked out. And of course he decided to try to follow you. He made it a few steps outside the cabin before you turned on him, ready to roar. “Be safe at least.” He tossed his red jeweled dagger to you. Your heart squeezed, choking you up slightly. You brushed it away as best you could before he could see. You couldn’t yell at him. 

So you took the dagger and walked briskly away, into the brush of autumn forests. Laced with the smell of heavy fruits and warm trees. Leaves fluttering in your wake as the wind tossed with ease. 

You held his knife close at your side the entire aimless walk. Then, the sound of twigs snapping and males laughing heartily made you pause. 

Far to your east was a dull glow beyond a knoll. You backed away slowly. Trying to be as soundless as possible in case they could scent you. The breeze whipped at your skin, blowing in their direction. The trees above you shuddered sharply, and you swore as a heavy weight fell upon your shoulders.

+

Azriel paced in the kitchenette, his shadows swirling around him relentlessly, waiting for a target. It felt wrong letting you go. It felt like letting his hope sink. His shadows even seemed upset about it, as they now whipped around him angrily. 

He swore he was going to run a rut through the plank floor. He sighed, glanced to Elain’s sleeping figure and forced himself to sit. You had the dagger. You were capable. You knew the area and knew what you were doing. He tried his best to soothe himself. It didn’t help much.

The old chair creaked under his weight, and he smiled. For someone who claimed they couldn’t work around the house, you were quite the crafter making such a nice hideaway for yourself. He finally took a moment to pause, and actually look at the cabin.

The stove may have been older than he was. The missing burners on top were replaced with a few forks placed carefully around them. The ancient shelves were dusty, along with all the jars and cups atop them. Cobwebs spotted the entire house, but his shadows had gotten rid of most of them after the first one clung to his face upon walking in. 

Then he came to the table he sat at, the four unmatching chairs circling it. The table itself was solid oak, he could tell that much. But he wondered how you’d gotten it inside at all. Out of curiosity, he pulled on it. It didn’t budge. His eyebrows knitted together, and he stood slowly. The curiosity consumed him. He gave the table another tug. Still, no movement.  

He crouched down, and noticed the planks around the single leg of the table had been cut out. Then he noticed the intricate roots weaving their way up the trunk. The table wasn’t just a table. It was an entire tree - or what was a tree once… And you’d built the entire cabin around it. His awe was quickly quieted by Elain.

“A part of you is missing. The foxes will die.” She muttered sleepily, her eyes blank. And he lay back down as if it hadn’t happened. “Elain?” Azriel called. Dread, cold and stinging coarse through him. “Elain?” He asked quietly, approaching her side. She flung the covers from her lithe body. Azriel jumped back, holding his hands up defensively. “It’s okay, its me.” He calmed her, noting the wild look in her expression. 

“Find yourself.” She breathed, her eyes going wide with concern. Azriel’s heart sped, and he felt like he’d been dunked in a cold ocean of dread. Terror drug him under the deep waves and threatened to drown him the first chance it got. He took Elains hand and started walking the direction you’d left. 

Leaving behind the supplies and the living table that you’d created.

+

A glance at the oversized uniforms told you all you needed to know. The fox sigil pinned to their tunics proved that the uniforms were stolen from Autumn soldiers. Your blood boiled. Elain had been right. But they would die. Five of them, at least. But you had only glimpsed at three so far. You tugged at the ropes that bound you. Firm, and not able to be broken.

Their campsite was large, and full of small boxes of different fruits. Several different types of weapons leaned against their low lying tents. And with how many scars their fae leader had, you knew the rest of their story in an instant. Bandits. Filthy trade merchants that lived for thievery and making a quick gold mark.

And you’d be worth their weight in gold once they turned you in to Beron.

“We’ve got a live one!” The male shouted to his comrades. They cheered drunkenly, their voices carried far by the wind. Their fire sparked and popped against the blue night sky. And you knew that your death may not come in glory of battle, or in the name of your home. But in being stupid enough to be caught by bandits. You could have died that instant if it would mean you didn’t have to feel that kind of shame.

The male cut the opal from your neck, and you felt your magic explode from you. Your thoughts were racing, searching. Finding something cold and dark in the depths of your mind and tugging on it. Then, it was a live beast beneath your mental hands. It coiled and rose, ready to strike. 

The same one cut a long line down your cheek with the blade that had just cut your only protection against Hybern from you. You prayed to the mother that Hybern was too busy to notice a small blip of magic from an Autumn fae like you. You hissed in pain as the blade stung its way down to your neck, stopping at your collarbone. 

You pulled on that coiling beast that called to you. Beckoned it to find you, to help you from this pain. Maybe you were begging for death, or at least unconsciousness so you wouldnt have to feel the pain anymore. The male stood back to let another scaled lower fae get a look at you. His tongue lashed out over your bloodied neck. He hummed in approval, letting his forked wetness slither across your wounds.

You felt them seal and itch with every pass as he took your blood. “Good.” the one with the blade ordered, then… to your dread, he pulled a glowing rod from the fire. They would brand you. Then take you to the high lord. Only after they’d humiliated you though. The males clucked at your involuntary reaction. They huddled close around, waiting for the screaming to start. Their excitement coated the air with a tangy adrenaline filled scent. 

You reared away from the burning metal as best as you could. The ropes around you seemed weaker now that you had your weak magic back, but still too constricting to do much with. 

You closed your eyes as the glow approached your chest. It warmed your face with the heat. They were going slow on purpose. Wanting to savor your reaction. It made your stomach go queasy. You hoped you would pass out. Better yet, just die of the agony. That way Beron wouldn’t have the satisfaction of killing you himself. 

There was a thump, and sizzling. You cracked open your eyes, waiting that searing pain to hit you. But it didnt. The males stood back, bewildered. Across the camp in the dull glow of the fire as the one that had been lowering the branding stick to you. It was speared through his chest, pinning him to a tree. His mouth gasped, eyes wide and glowing a haunting orange from the fire. You would never forget the sight of it. The smoldering that came from the tree behind him as the hot iron burned into it. The wet sounds of his mouth opening and closing. 

Then, the gasp and thump each male that Azriel incapacitated before you. Elain stood at the edge of the trees, her eyes still puffy from sleep. Azriel kept the kills quiet and concise. None resembled the one pinned to the tree, now sagging under the weight of death. No, the rest of them had easy deaths at the hands of one skilled at dealing killing blows. The wet splatter of blood leaving a body pulled you back to the scene in front of you. Az’s scowl as he cleaned his blade was that of a warrior who had seen much worse. Done much worse. 

“I told you not to fucking-” He snarled, his hands on the rope at your wrists. He stopped though, and stared. The shadowed light of his eyes seemed to be blooming with awe. You couldn’t look away. The beauty in the deep irises, the way small freckles played about his dark skin. All new and exciting things you’d never noticed before. His scent alone was like a punch to the gut. 

Him. Azriel. It had been him to find you. Him to respond to that silent plea that you so badly needed to be heard. He was that coiling darkness that had saved you. Your breath was a gasp, and you nearly fell to your knees before him. 

+

His hands didn’t work anymore. The world stopped turning all together. His heart was no longer his own and his soul belonged wherever you were. It didn’t matter that you were in the middle of a foreign court’s borders. It didn’t matter that Elain trembled in the corner of the clearing. He was yours, and you were his. 

He vowed it, for eternity that was how it would stay. He’d never leave your side again. Never choose to be without you for as long as he may be alive. His very being was now shared. With you. His soul intertwined your yours, wrapping delicately around your earthy light that contrasted his darkness so perfectly. If you were the sun he was the moon, always chasing, always following and living in your light. 

The words weren’t needed but he managed to utter them. Around a shuddering breath and a shattering explosion of love he managed it. “My mate.”

[4dtk]

NCT127 falling in love with a s/o with a time-consuming job like a lawyer or a doctor

NCT 127 with an s/o who has a time-consuming job

this is so cute, thanks for requesting! i made this in a format in the ways that the boys might show their care when you’re so busy with your job :) long as hell LOL enjoy!!

brief spoilers for shang-chi if you haven’t watched! i just watched it this week lol it was really good

→ TAEIL would direct conversations to a more neutral stance. it’s not that he wants to talk about himself, but sometimes if you don’t want to talk about your case or patients, he easily slips into conversation about theories or his favourite tv show or your rundown of what groceries to take for the next time you head to the supermarket. just really normal small things that take your mind off the stress, especially at night when you’re laying in bed and just before you’re drifting off to sleep, the two of you would engage in a topic that you both know fairly well about and then you’re usually the first to succumb to sleep. taeil purposely picks out topic he knows will excite you (and bc he knows you’re passionate about it, he reads up on it which allows a well-balanced convo). if you’re rambling on about a topic, then he’ll occasionally play the guitar while laying down, just simple melodies that bring a lot of peace to the room.

“wait- how d’you like this melody?” taeil softly says, changing it instantly when you commented on the previous, discordant one. your nod encourages him to carry on with the plucking of his fingers while you yourself continue with your rambles. “so i’m saying right, it seems totally unfair for him, and you’d think that, right? but all he ever does is whine and moan about his misfortunes, plus his character is so terribly written i kinda feel sorry for-“

the halted melody prompts a sharp turn of your turn to the guitar, which you almost collide with, “what?” taeil only shrugs. “nothin’. just like how passionate you get about the show, it’s cute.” your boyfriend smiles after, ignoring how his words affect you and how your cheeks heat up at it.

→ JOHNNY is one to take you out after your work. it’s not to a super intense, high-energy place like a club or anything, but small little dates that won’t take up much time. eating dinner at a restaurant, walk in the park, small cafe trip, strolling through supermarket to make fun of brand names. if you’re too tired that day, he always finds a way to make your time at home fun. from setting up a small karaoke session, to maybe making a pillow fort, to trying out new cuddling positions, he has everything on his mind. always showing you things to cheer you up if you happen, from memes to funny videos. is low-key down for you to review crime/doctor shows too, just to see how accurate they nail it. your time at home is consuming endless pieces of media until your tummies hurt or you’re sniffling at a movie together.

“hold on- lemme show you this video,” johnny’s hand is outstretched to you once he finds the video and your spoon full of food is left near your mouth. you proceed to watch the low quality video which your boyfriend claims to be the funniest video on earth.

W-HOR? WAH? the girl’s finger in the video traces over the word “who” as she struggles to pronounce it, with presumably her sister in the background prompting her. the repeated pronunciation of the word makes you snort, while the wheezing and the loud NO in the background causes you to fully erupt into laughter. johnny simply smiles at another successful attempt to make you smile.

→ YUTA always has a hand on you when you return home. he brings you into a hug, he guides you by your back, you have to eat with one hand bc he can’t keep his hand off of you. he hopes his little touches will ease your tiredness even by a bit and if you don’t want it, he’ll stop, but it’s yuta’s way of showing he cares without words. busy days with yuta usually involve just sitting in silence as you catch up on a show or a series, or even listening to a song in silence and enjoying each other’s company. he will talk if you want to, but if not that’s fine too, preferring more to stroke your hair in silence and think about how much he loves you. becomes very sappy when you’re in the quiet of your room and generally is very fond of the small pockets of time you get to spend before you two fall asleep. likes that you’re so resolute in your job but can be soft around him behind closed doors.

“you comfortable?” yuta calls out, barely above a whisper as he wraps an arm tighter around you. there’s comfortable ministrations that his does with his fingers, massaging the skin under your pajamas while you snuggle deeper into his chest. humming, you tighten your hold around his top.

“i am, yeah,” you can’t care much for the tv show on the screen now, with empty takeout boxes and tissues littering the coffee table. you feel the gentle kiss of yuta on your head before you’re drifting off to dreamland to a scratchy, 60s jazz song playing through the speakers.

→ TAEYONG would always welcome you back with a table set and food ready, always. he knows that food is the way to someone’s heart and you eating his food always makes him happy and offers to clean-up. lets you shower first if you come back together, puts you before himself very often that sometimes you have to tell him to tone it down because you don’t want him ending up more tired than he already is. following up on this, taeyong would show his love by cooking your lunches for you. when he has the time he makes the effort to put it in a nice bento or box for you to eat. he also does the general chores around the house (assuming the two of you live together) so the bed will be a little less messy when you come back, the floor’s cleaner, the countertops aren’t so cluttered with stuff. even if there’s nothing to clean up, he always these small little things before you come back, and even if you don’t notice it, he sees the way you’re able to navigate the space or when you’re more at ease and it makes him smile.

“do you want to shower first?” taeyong calls out softly, admiring the clean house he’s managed to do up before he went to meet you, “i’ll just hang around until you’re done.”

“you need to prioritise yourself too, yong,” you pout, rubbing a hand up and down his forehead as you toe off your shoes, “how ‘bout we shower together? you did clean the house up pretty nicely.” that earns a grin and a kiss from taeyong, who goes straight the prepare the bath. you chuckle, “he’s already forgotten what i’ve told him.”

→ DOYOUNG supports you silently and listens to your day when you return home and talk about your patient or a case you’re working on. he gives you his own input when he sees fit but other than that he wants you to explain the details. being a doctor and lawyer is crazy and hectic and just wants you to know that you’re appreciated in the workforce. the way he might show his love when caring for a busy s/o like you is when he brings you stuff that you might’ve forgotten like an umbrella or your lunch since you were rushing out of the house earlier. he doesn’t mind going the extra mile to you literally bc it’s a win-win! you get your food, he gets to see you, etc. if not he’ll send someone over to pass it to the receptionist, or he’ll make up for it by meeting you outside the office to apologise and then ask you what you wanna do so he can make it up to you.

“did you manage to get the bento i bought you?” doyoung asks worriedly through the phone, holding up a hand to the staff member who was beckoning him to his photoshoot. “you bought so much!” you exclaim, with a shoulder to your ear, phone perched in between, “thank you doyoung.”

“’m sorry i couldn’t come over to give you your lunch today, angel. i’ll see you after you’re done with work, okay?” you smile at that, shooting a quick reply before you delved into your food.

→ JAEHYUN would honestly serve you once you come back from a busy day tbh. where taeyong does the chores around the house, jaehyun helps by doing the chores on YOU and only you. giving you massages, bringing you dinner on a tray, other unsaid things… and maybe even carrying you from room to room lol he’s relentless and just goes you need to rest, lemme help. big gentleman even when you reject him, doing smaller things like constantly checking up on you, pulling the blanket higher onto your body, cuddling you closer to his body when it’s cold. on top of that jaehyun also one that would meet you at your workplace and take you out like johnny, but those dates are extremely chill. he lets you choose, and when you’re not sure, he takes you on a night picnic at the field or a rooftop, just dinner, but outside bc the view is really nice and he likes the way you look even after a long day of working.

“where should we park our mats?” your head moves from left to right, looking for a suitable spot while you tug on jaehyun’s hand. he hums at it, searching for a spot just like you are. the wind’s blowing gently when you settle near a tree, mat occasionally flying up which you counter with your heavy laptop bag.

“any idea where we can get desserts later?” you call out as a half-joke, not expecting jaehyun to pull up his phone to instantly search for a baskin robbins. “there’s one close-by, wait here for a minute and i’ll go get one for you-“ you laugh before pulling him back down, “don’t worry! we’ll go together, plus i don’t want to be left alone.” jaehyun softly smiles, nodding along as he takes out the food he packed.

→ JUNGWOO has similar intentions like johnny, except he would just wanna stay home. where johnny’s goal is to make you laugh, jungwoo just likes doing things together at home. playing board games, folding the clothes together, making dinner together. it’s not that he doesn’t want to do it, but when he’s given free time he sometimes just likes to laze at home and rest from schedules. he sometimes takes himself out of bed to help before you come back but he’s lazy lolol. loves it when you’re both equally tired and living off 5h of sleep. it’s not romanticising the lack of sleep but your schedules just don’t allow you to sleep equal amounts of hours of sleep. through that, you’re at least able to connect over sleepy talk and droopy smiles while you make the bed or assemble a lego piece or playing video games. if jungwoo’s energetic enough he doesn’t mind doing the crazier activities but he generally prefers those activities done in semi-silence while you exchange jokes and funny videos.

“noooo- no! you only need to move three times, you’re cheating-“ jungwoo pouts and moves back your playing avatar back three spaces on the board game. you purse your lips, not expecting him to see it since he was particularly invested in the movie playing on the screen. knowing it was a shitty film, you tried to talk him out of it, but he insisted. with eyes glued to the screen a few seconds earlier, you took your chance to move down one more space in order to get the benefit on the game board.

“you’ll get to buy a house soon, honey,” jungwoo grins cheekily, laughing even more when he’s able to move four steps, landing on the square that you wanted. now it was your turn to pout as he flips the card for property purchases, happily placing it next to his five other houses. “you’re so annoying!” you say as you fall back on the bean bag, but jungwoo doesn’t believe it when he sees a smile poking out from behind the hands shielding your face..

→ MARK sends you a looooot of texts. your convos with him are just him spamming questions or sending you memes. on every platform LMAO he has tweets sent, ig dm’s are blowing up from the weirdass nct memes that some of the fans make, he uses the official nct tiktok account to send you viral trending videos and he’s like we should try this!!!! and it’s a couple doing acrobatics or some shit. he’s crazy. anyway, he just likes to share things with you, from songs, to playlists, to youtube videos or interesting topics like crime psychology or movie theories etc. he knows that you’re hardly going to see it in your job but he sees the way you react across the room when he sends you stuff so he’s sure that you’ll like it after you get off work. sometimes likes to rickroll you, he knows it’s an old trend/troll thing but the thrill of seeing your frustrated replies always make him laugh out loud. when you’re back home, the both of you review whatever you send each other and then laugh together at them.

“hey, babe, check out this video,” mark says in a text, pasting a twitter link to a video. the video starts out interesting enough, mentioning something about a fun fact with stunning visuals has you wanting to learn more. when the guy in the video starts on his first word, the video immediately changes to rick astley with never gonna give you up. you mutter a small fuck under your breath, gaining a bit of attention from your colleagues during lunch break.

under the table, you flip him off in a picture, which he responds with a big smile of his that’s obviously teasing you for falling for it. you’re going to get it when i get back home!!!!! on a new high, you text the message and set your phone down, already excited for the evening where’d you be able to spend your time with him.

→ HAECHAN is a mix of everything kinda. he’d bring you out after work sometimes and other times likes to stay at home, mainly takes you out to eat after work, but that’s the extent of his after-work-escapades, he doesn’t want to tire you out too much. i think one prominent things he likes to do to is vlog to you, send you videos of what he’s doing on set or at home and just treats your convo like a bank for endless videos. y’know how there’s this video feature in telegram? he sends sooo many of those that you have the time of your life watching those on the ride back home. if you have time, you HAVE to facetime him during your lunch break and tell him how you’re doing and how’s your work coming along. do i have to kick someone’s ass for making you feel uncomfortable? is that patient being creepy again? and you have to explain that haechan, no, that patient is an elderly you cannot beat his ass. he’s like i don’t care, creepy dudes are not excused!!! and you can’t help but smile at that. always wants to be talking to you, close to you. if one day, you’re able to bring him to your job, this man follows you around like a lost puppy and just admires what you do, it’s endearing.

“ah, wait- you know how the sister, xia ling was sent to shut down the ten rings army? well… i just reviewed some of the articles and-“ the video cuts into the next one, haechan’s face zoomed in as he looks straight into the camera, “y’know, she might become a villain one day, i don’t know. maybe i should review some of the comics too?”

“anyway! come look at our set for the music video! it’s sexy, outfits are fire, sets are so good, the choreo this time isn’t too hard, either.” haechan asks the other members to wave as he passes them by, no doubt going his own make-up and hair after the others were already done, “okay, gotta go- love you bye!” you smile at that, texting a quick reply before you open up a video of your own, whispering through the speaker with a promise that you’d see him tonight.

[sweetaesuga]

in your eyes | m

pairing: jungkook x female reader!

genre: smut, fluff, angst, college au, fratboy jk! ex-fuckboy jk! bookworm reader! friends to lovers!

warnings: language, insecurity, drinking, dom jungkook! fingering in public, exhibitionism, female masturbation, grinding, oral (m), dirty talk, light choking, degrading (slut/whore), squirting, creampie, unprotected sex (both are clean but stay safe), bathroom sex, riding, pinning.

word count: 10.6k+

synopsis: jungkook always sees you like the only girl in the world, and you just see him as a fuckboy. OR jungkook just wants a chance🥺

↳ a/n: first time i ever write a fic or smut please enjoy🤧 

You were only sixteen when you met him. He stepped into the classroom in all dark baggy clothes in an uneasy walk. At first glance you would of thought he was a timid person. Wrong, under all of that bullshit you see an egoistic and self-assured asshole that you're somehow happy to call your friend. You even learned that it was facade. Jungkook was a boy with a good heart who always remained loyal to all of his friends.

Jungkook just turned seventeen when he met you, noticing you straight away when you had a nice sense of fashion. You always had on an accessory that matched with the color of your shirt or jeans. You also always wore a bit of bright colors in your outfits. The bright unique makeup is what caught his attention too. He was proud to call you his friend.

When you both happily entered the same college along with your best friend Hayoon, everything changed. He began hanging out with a new group of friends, they were all older than them and deeply influenced him. He joined a fraternity then and began spending less time with you. He only came over to study or celebrate your birthday. His busyness merely reminded you how he preferred to spend his time hooking up with random girls every week rather than play board games with you or rant to him about your new book you were reading.

You don't exactly remember when he started but you do remember all the girls that talked about how amazing he was in bed which solely added more uncertainty on you. You even walked in on him and a freshman girl going at it in one of the sorority’s room at a party you were both attending.

The memory of when he started crushing on you was foggy to you but he always remembered it in a flash. It was when he had a taekwondo match, where circumstantially Jungkook's girlfriend, who wasn't really his girlfriend, at the time couldn't make it. His hopes were put down by the thought of someone not supporting him, since he always tried his best with his own cheerleader being there.

In the middle of the match, his eyes scanned the bleachers, wishing for someone to be there. His wishes were granted as he saw you there. Standing awkwardly, you gave him a little wave with a smile. His chest heaved in glee, sending you a quick smile before he returned to his match.

The sound of you screaming his name when he won, put a enormous smile on his face. Jungkook watched you run down the bleachers, apologizing to all the people you were bumping through. You leaped into his arms easily.

Your next words to him were a blur since Jungkook was too focused on just having you in his arms. He was grinning happily at you, hair sticking to his forehead. His heart heaved with warmth as you hugged him tightly.

He was twenty-one and you were twenty when he realized he had a crush on you.

You were seventeen when you realized you liked him.

But you were nineteen when you realized you would never be good enough for him.

"He then had the audacity to ask me if I slept with anyone else! The nerve of that guy," you felt like your ear was going to bleed out just by listening to your best friend blabber about her ex-boyfriend.

"Why don't you just stop talking to him? I don't know...block his number or something?" you suggested, very uninterested in this conversation about her ex-boyfriend contacting her. She could simply just block him out her life and be done with him. 

You stared at the worn out rubber of the tip of your black converse. She popped the gum in her mouth, the sound became annoying to you. Hayoon squinted her eyes at you, trying to find something to say to argue back to you. She instead changed the subject. "Where were you on Saturday?"

"Studying like the rest of the students here," you moved to rest your weight onto your right leg. "I just can't seem to understand how finals are coming up and some people are out here partying? The library was packed when I got there."

"Yeah well I wouldn't know because I didn't go," she grinned at you. "Instead I went to a party because I'm not a loser like you!" Hayoon giggled to herself and you rolled your eyes. "Also," she popped the gum loudly. "Jungkook was asking for you. Calling for his dream girl. . .or something like that—I don't know can't remember—too drunk you know?"

Your ears perked up to that. "Really?" you tucked a piece of hair behind your ear that got in the way and leaned forward. "Did you remember why he was looking for me?"

Hayoon grinned again. "Even if I do know why would you care? Don't you hate him or something?" she smiled evilly and threw her head back.

You froze and leaned back to your seat. You know what she was trying to do and it was never going to happen.

You were never going to give Jeon Jungkook a chance.

Jungkook stumbled into the library, eyes searching for you immediately. There was nearly a crowd of students that were preparing for finals. "Hey have you guys seen Y/N?" he asked a study group. A girl in your class answered him, telling him that you were somewhere by the windows.

Of course you were, he thought to himself. You would be seated at your usual spot. He walked over to the windows and spotted you straight away. Watching your figure become closer as he walked further, he took the sandwich out of his bag. "Hey Y/N!" you already knew that voice. You looked up at Jungkook. As usual he looked drop-dead gorgeous. He wore his usual dark baggy outfit, a black cargo jogger and a much darker hoodie with some black combat boots. He was showing off his helix piercing and his fresh new haircut.

"Nice haircut," you referred to his undercut and the fact that he was showing forehead. "Seems like you spent a lot of time on it."

"Yeah! Just for you," he smiled, his cheeks being pushed up. You let out a heavy sigh, clearly not in the mood for his flirtatiousness. "Got you a sandwich, by the way," he laid it in front of you.

You let out a small smile and took it from him, trying not to show how your mouth got watery so quickly. "Thanks, you didn't have to though," he shook his head.

"I don't want you starving to death," he sat down next to you, shoulder pressing against yours. "What are you studying for?" his nose nuzzled your ear. You rolled your eyes and shoved him away, ignoring the goosebumps his warm breath caused.

"Just getting my notes ready. Wanna highlight or color code it but feel like it's going to fuck up everything. Also don't wanna be those fucking girls that always have to make their fucking notes pretty. Also, do I look tired?" he studied your face for any features that made you seem exhausted. "I was up till two in morning watching these two Indian guys build a pool."

His eyes lit up. "Oh my god, I come across from those too."

"I know they came up all over my fucking Youtube recommendations. I got sucked into binge watching them. It makes me feel fucking lazy to be honest, the amount of fucking water they carry back and forth. I wouldn’t be able to do that.”

Jungkook snickered and made a note of how much you swore. "I need to make a swear jar for you. You swear too much."

"Not even," you laughed back at him and nudged his shoulder. "I'm just a little frustrated and stressed right now," his gaze dropped on the purple pins in your hair, holding each side of your hair. "I called my mom and she said to not stress over this, but you know how I get," you frowned and turned to him. He finally took in your appearance. Your bright purple eyeshadow with purple gems adorning the top of it. You wore a purple flare pants and a white long sleeved, deep v-line crop top. His eyes dropped down to your cleavage, trying to see if you had a bra on.

"Holy shit Y/N!" the students around him shushed him. He burned up and muttered a sorry to them, you giggled at how embarrassed he looked. "You look amazing. What's the special occasion?"

"Nothing," you shook your head, a smile still on your face. "Can't I dress up once in awhile?" Jungkook raised an eyebrow at you, knowing that you normally only wear outfits like this when they’re new or it’s the first week of school. "Okay," you dragged your word out. "I got this outfit last week and really wanted to use it today. It's cute right?"

"Yeah, really cute," he toyed with your hair pins, messing up your hair.

Neglecting his comment, you carried on. "I even got up in early in the morning to do my makeup. If I'm gonna show up wearing a new outfit, I might as well have a cute ass face to go with it," you frowned when you remembered something. "And I realized I don't have different color hair pins, they're all purple so thank fuck the fucking pants are purple."

"Well I think you look very cute, Y/N. Boop!" he poked your nose gently. You swatted his hand away, warning him to stop but all you're given is a large bunny smile. "Come on, eat your sandwich. I didn't just come all the way over here searching for you just to talk to you."

"Actually you did bitch."

"Oof, swear jar," he rested his palm out in front you. You took a bite out of the sandwich, placing a quarter on his palm. "No a dollar, Y/N."

"No! What the fuck—wait!" he held out his palm again. "That's not fucki—hold up, you can't just say a dollar," you whined and grabbed your bag. "I don't have money growing out of my ass."

"I don't know that yet. I'm gonna have to check to make sure," you threw a dollar at him. He laughed and picked it up.

"I know your kind," you spatted at him and tossed the other two dollars at him which he easily caught. "Wanna drain my f-freaking bank account."

"Oh come on, I want you to be my sugar mama," he jested, leaning forward to give you a huge smug.

"Sucks to be you actually. I'm looking to be a sugar baby, not a sugar mama," you glanced over your shoulder towards him. His laugh echoed and you watched as students gave him a dirty look from how loud it was.

"Of course. You're the brokest bitch in the city no one actually wants you to be their sugar mama," you gasped at his words.

"Am not!"

"Are so!" you both laughed at each other. His hand searched for yours underneath the table. He must've noticed how tensed up you had gotten when he found it, managing to wrap your smaller fingers into his. "I've been meaning to talk to you by the way."

You groaned, knowing where this will be going. "Jungkook, stop I'm not in the mood," you caught a quick glimpse of the time. "Look, I have to go, my bus will be coming soon." You don't let him mention anything else. Bolting out of the library, you leave a crestfallen Jungkook behind.

He shook his head and took the half eaten sandwich you also left behind. He trailed behind you, backpack threatening to fall down his arm. You proceeded to walk to the bus stop, Jungkook just close behind. "Didn't see you at the party on Saturday?" the voice came from behind you. You opt to ignore it but by the sound of his voice it was easy to tell that he has been dying to ask this question. When you didn't answer him, he tried again. "Seriously where were you on Saturday?"

You sunk down on the bench. "None of your business."

"Well, I was kind of worried about you. I thought you were going to be there so that's why I came," he took a seat right besides you. "Once I saw you weren't there, I left."

"I was at the library studying for finals," you weren't sure why you were telling him this.  After his little confession your heart felt weird. If you hadn't told him though, he probably would've guessed it. Still, he needed confirmation.

"What? Why didn't you tell me? We could’ve studied together!" he complained, nudging his shoulder with yours.

"Jungkook stop, I know what you're doing," you glared at him, wanting to get away. He frowned and reached over to hold you. "I already told you no," you hissed, disregarding the way his eyes appeared sunken at your response.

"Why not? I already told you, I'm not messing around anymore. I genuinely want to settle down with someone," he stared into your eyes with such intensity you felt like your brain was going to explode. Your ears took in his words slowly. "I want to be with you."

"Jungkook, please—"

"Come on, one date. I swear to god I've changed," he ranted. He's always been very keen on having a chance with you, but with all those girls that he used to take home you felt otherwise. You would listen to the girls on how good Jungkook was. How good he looked at night in the dark moonlight. How he would manhandle them in random places. How his muscles would appear every time he flexed them. How those hips of his were a miracle. You would be lying to yourself if you said you didn't ever want to see him that way too.

"I'm flattered, I really am—I just really don't want to be with someone like you. I'm sorry," you apologized, brushing a piece of hair behind your ear.

He blinked then squinted his eyes at you. "What do you mean someone like me?" He sounded somewhat offended at your words.

"You used to fuck around!" you fumed and threw your hands up. The bus was coming down the road towards the two of you. "I don't like that."

"Why not?" He's way too stubborn to let you go, you forgot.

"Because...I just don't okay? Lets leave it there," you stood up and walked over to the bus once it opened its doors. He followed close behind. Before you can enter your dollar into the machine, he does it for you.

The bus driver smiled at him while you glared at him. You walked to the back of the bus, smiling to all the other passengers but secretly upset. Jungkook still followed you like a lost puppy. You slid down in the seat. Your left arm feeling the side of the bus once you properly sat down. "Here, I'll pay you back," you hold out the dollar bill but he sat still in his seat.

"Well shit, sugar mama not right now," You sighed and put it back in your bag. You heard him snort.

"Come on, tell me why you won't give me a chance and I'll leave you alone," he offered. He held your eyes for a moment before you let out a breath of air and looked away.

If he’ll leave you alone, then you must have to say why you won’t grant him a chance with you, a chance for him to become your boyfriend.

"I'm too insecure for you," he opened his mouth but you shushed him. "I'm not...how do I put this? I'm not like them?" you questioned and glanced over at him. He had a look of worry washed all over his face. "The girls that you were with are those who are all popular, party all day, and are very attractive. They all do casual sex, and I don't want be that type of person, I want something serious. Like you have dated Soojin! She's really pretty, makes me gay even," you chuckled at yourself. "That's not the point though. If I'm with you, all I could ever think about is the girls you were with and how different I am from them. I just can't be with someone when all I'll ever think about are my insecurities with them. So how could I possibly ever be good enough for you?" you don't look at him after that.

He sighed and gripped your small hand into his. You almost cringed when you remembered how sweaty your hands were. "That's why I'm after you though. You're not like them. I wanted a change. You are good enough, you'll always be good enough for me. Hell, I feel like I’m not good enough for you. And I really don't care if you're any of that other stuff. I still want to have a shot with you." you don't realize how long you both were holding eye contact. The two of you don't look away from each other however. You don’t even comprehend how close you two have gotten. He reached over to push back a strand of your hair behind your ear. Your breath hitched.

"I don't know Jungkook, I'm just really unsure," you admitted and leaned back in your seat to create some distance between you two. "My mind isn't clear right now but I highly doubt I would want to give you a chance."

"Really? You don't want me?" he bit his lip and glanced over at you. "How can I change your mind?" you stopped functioning when he reached over to press up against your thigh. His fingers travelled over to your inner thigh. He kept rubbing circles around there for a few minutes, hand drawing closer each time. Your cheeks grew crimson once you wrapped your mind around on how wet you become so quickly, and he barely even touched you what an embarrassment.

You were only getting aroused quickly because of how long your dry spell was. You haven’t being touched in so long that you craved it so much, no matter who it was with.

"What are you doing?" you hated how you felt so hot under his eyes at the moment. He brushed you aside until you repeated your question again.

"Nothing," his lips curved upwards. He faced forward, ignoring the fact that his hand was practically between your legs.

"Jungkook, stop that!" you hissed and whacked his hand away. He withdrew his hand from your inner thigh but still kept it at the top of your thigh. His thumb gently tracing circles into your skin.

"Bet you're fucking wet under that," he commented. You caught his stare, watching his eyes fixed on your cleavage. A smile forms across his face when he takes notice of how you're rubbing your thighs together. "Don't be scared, I'll go easy on you. You wearing those pink panties that I love on you?"

You knew what he was referring to. Leaving your laundry on your bed wasn't a good idea especially when an excited Jungkook was coming over to watch a new episode of You, but he didn't give you time to pick it up so your baby pink lace underwear was out on the sheets. "Shut up. I'm not going to let you do shit," you furiously crossed your arms over your chest. His eyes flickered back down to your breasts that were shoved up into a tighter position.

"Really? You say that but you're on the verge of asking me to touch you. I know it, Y/N," you bit your lip hard to avoid saying something. You heard him laugh. "It's okay, no one will notice, if you're a good slut and keep your mouth shut." Your eyes widened at his words.

You’ve never been called a degrading name in bed. With the two boyfriends you’ve been with, they always called you loving names that had gotten boring quick as well as their vanilla sex. Yet somehow it stirred you up at the thought of being called a slut, especially Jungkook calling you that.

But it was almost like a completely different Jungkook had surfaced. You knew he was some sort of sex god but didn't expect him to have such a dirty mouth. You decided to test the waters. A little fun wouldn’t hurt.

You spread your legs a little wider, inviting him to get closer. He stared into your eyes as you stared down at his hand. "Unbutton your pants," he demanded. Your eyes expanded even more at his words. You were just thinking of getting him eager not to do something here.

You looked around to see if anyone could see or hear you two but they were all facing forward and minding their own business. Your hands went to unbutton your pants, pushing your zipper down. "Open your legs," you did as you were told. "Wider, wider," your right leg rested on top of his muscular thigh. "You wet enough?" he asked, reaching down to your core. You shivered when his hand entered your underwear. He sinks his two fingers in and you whined. He took his fingers out, gazing on the glistening wetness on it.

"Dirty fucking slut," he murmured and dig his fingers back into you. You gripped his wrist harshly but encouraged him to add more fingers. He complied and proceeded to finger you in the back of the bus. "Never thought I would finger the girl of my dreams in the back of the bus," he chuckled as he heard you calling out his name. "You gotta be quiet if you don't wanna get caught." he teased softly. He pounded his fingers into you faster. His eyes laying upon your furrowed eyebrows and bitten lip. You began to nudge into his fingers, meeting him halfway with the movement of your hips. Your grip on his wrist tightened as he touched your clit with the tip of his finger. He snorted and proceeded to move against you, ignoring his hardness that was forming in his pants. You threw your head back and stared up at the ceiling. You bit your lip hard, almost drawing blood.

Jungkook clutched your knee, forcing you to open wider. You raked over the passengers in the seat, who are still unaware of you getting fingered at the back of the bus. You moaned into his hoodie. You let go of his wrist to hold his bicep. He looked down at you. He reached over to cup your face, bringing your lips to meet his. You’re taken back a little but nonetheless you open your mouth to tempt him to slid his mouth in. He fulfilled your craving. The two of you looked like random teenagers making out in the back but what they couldn't see was his fingers stuck up your wet core.

"Jesus fucking Christ," you said under your breath, pulling away from his redden lips. His fingers pounded brutally into you. He showed no sign of slowing down.

"You make a fucking noise and I swear to god I will take you on this bus full of people. I don't give a fuck, Y/N," your pussy quenched around him at that. Your wetness glimmered on his fingers.

"Oh my god, Jungkook, oh my god," you moaned against his neck. Hiding your face from him, you picked up the pace of your hips. "Uh—fuck, holy shit do that again," you referred to him touching your clit. He does that again. "Oh fuck," you whimpered when you felt an uneasy feeling building up within you. "I'm gonna fucking cum."

"Yeah? That fucking early? I knew your little pussy wouldn't be able to take it," Jungkook's lips formed a smirk. "And this is just with my fingers babe. Bet you can't handle my dick," you ignored him. You sobbed into his neck and leaned up to kiss him in efforts to silence your moans, cumming hard all over his fingers. It takes two minutes before you released Jungkook from the kiss. He drew his hand away from your skirt and made sure you were holding eye contact with him when he cleaned his fingers with his tongue.

You gulped. Reality finally hit you. You had let Jungkook finger you in the back of the bus. 

You pushed back against your seat and looked around to see if anyone was looking. Everyone on the bus was still unaware and you felt like you can breathe again. "Holy shit I can not believe we just did that," you brushed your hair back, somewhat disappointed at yourself for not stopping him.

Jungkook's smile surfaced. "I can't believe you just let me do that. Wanna return the favor?" he asks jokingly but watched your face to see if you were willing to suck him off. His hopes are put down when a frown appeared on your face and he could tell you wouldn't feel comfortable with that. "Joking babe."

"Don't call me that, please," you stressed. "This was a mistake, seriously don't ever speak of this with any of your friends. We're not going to speak of it either."

"I wasn't even going to," he muttered and looked away. "Funny how it's a mistake, Y/N, when you were over here telling me to keep going."

You fanned yourself, flapping your hand back and forth in front of your face. Jungkook looked at the layer of sweat near your hairline that glistened under the sunlight. "Stop, it was in the heat of the moment. It seriously was a mistake," he opened his mouth but you carried on. "Especially in the back of the bus, oh god, I'm really disappointed in myself," you zipped up your flare pants, not minding that your underwear is sticking to you.

"And I'm really disappointed in you too, for not giving me a chance," Jungkook said with knitted eyebrows. You sit away from him, making sure there was a good amount of space between the two of you. "Oh are you just going to ignore me now?" he isn't given a response, your tongue knotted together in your mouth. "So that's how it's gonna be now?"

You gathered your bag. The bus curving towards the upcoming bus stop. "This is my stop," you disclosed. He captured your forearm which quickly caught your attention.

"Don't be like this, Y/N." You shrug him off and walked out of the bus, leaving Jungkook and his gloomy thoughts behind.

"Shut up, stop playing with me!" Hayoon exclaimed, her eyes glimmered with interest as you filled her in on the day before. "You did not let Jungkook finger you on the back of the bus," she laughed out loud at her sentence, still not believing the words coming out of your mouth. You groaned and sunk your head back down on the table. "I mean gross, but hey, you're catching dick."

"I'm not catching dick, and stop saying it's gross it makes me even more disappointed in myself."

"I just don't understand how you can tell him you don't want him and tell him the reasons why and then let him finger you at the back of the bus?!" your face scrunched up at her words. "I seriously don't get it Y/N. It's like you're provoking the guy that's going after you and that's pretty fucked up. Play with his dick, not his emotions, oh wait—”

"I told him no multiple times."

"Then why the fuck would you let him finger you in the back of a bus?" Hayoon rubbed her temple before munching on a fry. "I think you do have a crush on him, you just don't want to date him because of all the girls he’s been with.”

You let her words settle in your mind for a moment, not even realizing that she held your hand in hers. "But baby, that's called the past. It's the least thing you got to worry about since you already know it. Take a risk, go out with him. He's ready to be in a serious relationship with you, he's been telling me this since Friday."

You sighed, lips forming a pout. "I don't know."

"Well make up your mind quick cause' he's coming this way," her words are rushed as she glanced over at Jungkook, who's heading over your way.

"What?!" you're just about to turn your head his direction when Hayoon grabbed your jaw.

"What are you doing you stupid bitch?! Don't look—okay, pretend like I'm not here, pretend like I'm not here!" she turned away from you and placed her earbuds in her ears.

"Wait does my hair look good?!" you caught her by the arm before she can leave.

"For who?"

You snapped her head towards Jungkook, who's already smiling at you. His black cap floated over his eyes as he dug his fingers into the pockets of his jogger pants. You coughed when you perceived that you were checking him out. "Um, no one. Just wanted to see if it's messy," you don't know why but your cheeks burned so hard, maybe at the fact that you know it is messy.

His hand came in contact with your head before he moved a strand of your hair that looked out of place before pushing your baby hairs down. You swatted his hands away, ignoring how your warm ears were tingling. "There, it's not that messy anymore. I brought something."

He sat down besides you. You eyes fluttered over to Hayoon. She spread a smirk out on her lips. While Jungkook continued finding the item he wanted to show you, something along the words that it was a jar. Her fist comes up besides her mouth, opening it slightly. Your cheeks become crimson when she began to push her left fist towards her mouth while her tongue kept knocking into her right cheek.

"Here," Jungkook placed a jar in front of you, the bright glittery letters mocking you. Swear Jar, it read at the front. "Every time you cuss, it's more money to my bank account."

Your lips loop downwards into a frown. Your eyebrows furrowed together in the progress. "Not fair, I told you I didn't want to be a sugar mama."

"Fine, this is both of our swear jar."

"Deal."

"Okay, now that that's out of the way, we can talk about yesterday," he put the glittery jar, he decorated last night for you, back in his backpack. A sudden weight pressed down on your shoulders at the thought of him bringing up what happened yesterday.

"Jesus Christ, what do you carry in there?" Hayoon added unintentionally and you're thankful for that. As much as she wanted to know about the encounter between the two of you, she also wanted to know what Jungkook carried in that big bag of his.

"Dildos."

"Wait, deadass?" she jumped up in her seat. I snorted at her, earning a glare. Jungkook's lips formed a line, specifying that he was joking. "Well fuck, it just looks like it's gonna break your back. Dude you know what that reminds me of?" she asked you. Your mind doesn't come across anything so you shook your head. "The Rosie girl? She was giving dildos out at this campus cause' she wanted to, quote, fight absurdity with absurdity. All over Twitter. Wish I could be there to get one."

Jungkook's eyes crinkled up as he laughed at her. The sound ringing through your ears, only to devaste you even more. "Can we talk about yesterday?" he leaned over and whispered to you.

You swore you felt his lips brushing against your ear. It stirred up your brain. "What about yesterday?" your hands started shaking and you hoped he didn't see how anxious you have become.

Luck wasn't on your side today however, his upcoming question boosting your anxiety even more. "Why are your hands shaking so much?" he grasped his bigger hand in yours.

You are quick to take it out of his. "We agreed that we wouldn't talk about what happened yesterday. It was a mistake I didn't—"

"No, you agreed that we wouldn't talk about it," his voice raised slightly to get your attention. Your mouth snapped shut. "We need to talk about it. How the fuck can you be playing with my feelings like this?" Hayoon whistled, mentally seeing eye to eye with Jungkook. "I want to have a chance with you, a shot at us. You give me all these mixed signals and then when I try to make a move on you, all of the sudden you act like a bitch Y/N."

"Well what do you want me to say? That I fucking like you back too?" you challenged and stood up from your chair. The students around you turned their heads over to you, watching the scene in front of them unfold. "How the fuck am I even playing with your feelings? I said I wanted to just be friends! I'm sorry that you're misinterpreted our friendship but that's not my problem!" you wished you could've shut your mouth but all you could see was red. Perhaps you were letting go of all the rage you’ve ever resented over him for the past months.

For ditching you to attend parties or being with other girls. For not always being there for you.

"What the fuck do you mean that's not my problem?!" he mimicked you, staring up at you. "You let me finger you and you expect me to believe that you just wanna be friends? Are you even listening to yourself?! You felt something back there."

Hayoon stepped in, walking over to the two of you. "Okay, I think you guys should just shut up," your eyes wandered around the room, where everyone was watching your interaction.

"Whatever," Jungkook's chair scraped the floor harshly as he pushed it back. He dug into his backpack before placing the jar in front of you. "You can keep that and this," he put down a package full of glittery hair pins, all different colors. Your heart wrenched as you watched him walk away, sullen. His steps are quick so he can take the attention off of him.

You turned the jar and saw that the top had words on it. Splattered in messy pink glitter, Sugar Mama's Swear Jar :D.

Jungkook was avoiding you. You could tell because he stopped coming after school to study with you, which was okay at first until you found yourself yearning for him.

It was stupid, really. After all that debate on how you two should just stay friends, you can't just tell him how much you miss him. That'll make you seem like an ass.

And trust me that's the last thing you want.

Your day was going bad, your professor yelled at you for not paying attention and put you in the spot, embarrassing you in front of the class. You were okay until a girl gave you a look of pity and you had a breakdown in the bathroom right after.

When you went to go meet up with Hayoon, it'll only got worse. She cancelled on you after forcing you to wait for her for thirty minutes. Just as you're leaving a group of middle schoolers thought it would be funny to step on a ketchup packet and let splatter everywhere, resulting in the back of your white top covered in dots of ketchup.

You swore you almost hit the kid who came up with it, even thought about running him over when you saw that the stains were everywhere and even in your hair.

After showering and getting the ketchup out of your hair, you went to work that ensued in you coming home with mascara practically running down your eyes, that were ready to pour out tears if something else happened to you, due to you wrongly mixing up orders and getting yelled out by a customer.

Now here you were, sitting on the living room floor with wet hair after taking another shower which mainly just involved you sitting on the tile floor and crying. You ate the Chinese takeout you have gotten during the way, ignoring the way people were staring at you, with sympathy.

It was the last thing you needed. Maybe karma was coming to get you for saying those things to Jungkook. But at this point all you wanted was some reassurance, a shoulder to cry on, someone to be there for you.

Jungkook.

You couldn't sleep. No matter how hard you tried you just couldn't. Hell, you even closed your eyes for a solid thirty minutes yet you were not able to drift off into slumber. Maybe it had to due with the weather? It was freezing, if you stepped a foot outside you would become an ice sculpture in an instant.

Or maybe, the most logical one compared to all the others, was Jungkook fingering you on the bus. You can't seem to get that scene off your mind. Your brain kept drifting over on how stunning he appeared, his dark eyes staring straight at yours as he watched your mouth form an O shape. He only ever broke eye contact when he snuck a look of how his fingers vanished into your pants.

Then your mind would stumble onto the memory of you yelling at him, telling him how his feelings for you were not your fault. You despised yourself at that moment. You sighed and laid back into your pillow, staring up into the ceiling. "I can't believe I am even having these types of thoughts," you slowly opened your legs while shutting your eyes. As long as you don't think about him, it'll be okay.

But you do. Sliding off your underwear, the first thing you thought about was Jungkook. His bunny smile rested on his face. You opened your eyes to get him off your mind and closed them again. You let out a gentle moan when you feel how wet you are.

He came back again. This time he settled right besides you on the bed. His hand is shoved between your legs. You moaned when he buried his head in your neck and kissed your skin there. "You like that, princess?"

You frowned immediately, he didn't call you any pet names. From what you can remember, he called you a degrading name.

"You like that dirty slut?" you mewled at him. He moved his fingers ceaselessly inside of you whilst breathing down your neck.

The sound of a zipper being undone makes your eyes crack open. You took a glimpse of Jungkook, his hand disappearing inside his jeans that displayed his muscular thighs.

You whined at him and he hovered on top of you. Your breathing got heavier as his cock sprung out of his jeans. "Oh god," you moaned as he slid himself inside of you so effortlessly. Your hands moved quicker inside of you. Feeling your wetness spill out of you and onto the mattress underneath you, you imagined him pounding into you. Your hands clamped on his long hair with your legs in the air as his hips furiously snapping into you.

It doesn't take you long to cum, given the fact at Jungkook's pace it seemed like he wasn't going to stop. He disappeared, leaving you sweaty and tired on the bed with your fingers stuck inside you. "Holy shit, I can not believe I just did that.

Recalling your words that were thrown at Jungkook, a heavy weight on your shoulder returned heavier as ever, reminding you how you practically lost your shot with him.

Shame on you for not giving Jeon Jungkook a chance.

"I think I was too harsh on him."

"You think? Don't lie to me bitch, you know you were fucking harsh on him," Hayoon stood in the middle of your room, scanning your closet for a dress she can wear to a party.

It was almost three days since your argument with Jungkook in front of everyone. You expected to make up with him on Thursday but Jungkook avoided you like you were the plague. He didn't text you for any notes he needed to borrow, nor did he usually come to study with you or leave you a sandwich. You never realized how apart of your life he became, especially when he didn't sit next to you for one of your shared classes. Instead, he chose to sit next to Taehyung, his best friend. It was Friday now and to be quite honest, you missed him.

"Don't trip about it. He could be at the party tonight, getting over you and possibly getting himself a girlfriend so you don't have to worry about him pinning over you. Now what the fuck should I wear?"

You didn't like the sound of that. Jungkook possibly finding another girl. Your consciousness settled back in your mind. How can you even say shit like that? You rejected him, you have no right to tell him not to move on. You sighed to yourself and laid back into the bed. "Maybe I shouldn't go. I don't wanna see him."

"I don't wanna see him." she dragged the straps of your orange dress up her figure. "Shut up because on Wednesday you kept asking why he wouldn't talk to you, like bitch I wouldn't talk to you either with that shit you pulled back there."

"Why not?"

"You're not serious right?" she turned back to you. She raised her eyebrow, challenging you. You groaned and followed her out of the room when she didn't receive an answer. "That's what I thought," you heard her under her breath.

"Not gonna lie, I think I'm gonna break my ankle with these bitches," you pointed down at your high heels, slowing down. You stopped to fix them. Hayoon carried on walking to her car, leaving you behind.

"You wanted to wear them. Now get in," she honked her horn. You hissed at her, reminding her that the neighbors are going to complain. "Don't give a fuck, get in loser we're going to party!" she honked her horn longer.

You ran to her car when you realized she wasn't going to stop. "You need the swear jar, you stupid bitch."

"Not even," before you could say something back, her music blasts through the car. She screamed out the lyrics, encouraging you to join along. "In your eyes! You lie but I don't let it define you—oh define you!"

"You sound like a dying cat."

"I tried to find—fuck you then."

Along the way you started to wonder how she even got her driver's license. Hayoon almost went on the sidewalk when she was tried to park which forced you to get out of the car and direct her.

"Keep going, keep going."

"Fuck, bitch you sure? I don't want another ticket for being on the red line," her head stuck out to make sure she wasn't going to hit the car behind her.

"Yes I'm sure—okay stop!" Hayoon shuts off the engine, stumbling out of the car. She laughed to herself before walking up to the fraternity house with you. "Okay, I forgot what it was like coming here."

The first smell that filled your nostrils was vomit. You glanced down towards the ground and saw a distraught girl on the front lawn throwing up while her friend rubbed her back. Hayoon advised you not to look, to give the poor girl some pity. Reluctantly, you entered the house with a clumsy walk. Hayoon noticed and suggested that you go have a drink. You at first declined but once your eyes scanned the room and landed on Jungkook leaning against a wall with a redhead clinging onto him. You made your way to the open kitchen. Unknown to you, jealousy boiled in your stomach.

So that's how you end up on your first shot of a tequila with a cup of vodka already resting in your liver. You weren't drunk, still you were not far from being tipsy. Conscious enough to see that Jungkook's eyes were on you while you downed the shot. Eyes focused on your throat as you swallowed. He exhaled, watching you pull out your phone and tap away. The red head girl right besides him, tried calling his name out to hook his attention. He brushed her off, muttering something to her that he didn't sleep around anymore.

His frustration grew even more when he saw you wandering over to the middle of the room where sweaty bodies were grinding on each other. Your flimsy black silky dress was not doing him justice either, seeing how tight it was on your figure. It showed off your curves well; he hated how good you looked. There was a big opening in the back that stopped near your hips. Should be a crime to look that good, he thought to himself while trying to keep his eyes on you.

Your hips swayed to the music blasting throughout the house. You opened your eyes, landing on Jungkook immediately. His eyes devouring you as he took a sip of his beer, eyes locked on your hips. You tried not to look at him again but still wondered what was going in that mind of his. You raised your hands up in the air, dress threatening to rise up.

Your curiosity got the best of you. Squinting one eye open to take a peek of Jungkook but you failed to locate him.

A gasp left your mouth as someone pressed their front on your back, rubbing their crotch on your ass. A whiff of the sweet scented Victoria Secret perfume gave the identity away. You tilted your head so that it laid on his chest. Confirming your thought, Jungkook stared down at you with dark eyes. His arm muffled around your waist to press you further into his chest. He felt his body go ease when he saw your lips bunch up into a smile. Your hips rocked from side to side on him. Jungkook held his hand on your waist, encouraging you to continue. You willingly do so arms flinging on his neck as you dragged yourself down his chest. His growing bulge poked your ass as you grind yourself on him. Your head laid back on him. Jungkook leaned down to meet your lips. His mouth entwined with yours, lip gloss rubbing off onto his mouth. You moaned into his mouth and sensed that his hand was harshly holding one of your ass cheeks.

"You wanna go upstairs?" He was somewhat taken back at your suggestion but agreed nonetheless. With his fingers keeping a firm grip on yours, the two of you went upstairs.

He guided you towards the room, which all winded up preoccupied due to freshman trying to lose their virginities. You cringed when you come face to face with someone's bare ass pushing against the lanky girl. Jungkook pushed you into the bathroom, telling a man to fuck off when he tried getting in.

"Hey," you glanced up from the floor onto Jungkook's eyes. He offered you a small awkward smile, warming your heart as if he wasn't rubbing his dick on your ass a few minutes ago.

"Hi," your voice sounded very small and Jungkook wanted to reach out and reassure you that he only came up to you to apologize, not to have you grind on him in the middle of the room. "I'm sorry," you began, eyes fixed to the ground. "Everything I said on that day was really fucked up. I care about your feelings. I care about you and I was giving you mixed signals and it's not okay."

"I'll be fine," his hand held your arm, rubbing it slightly. "It's okay if you don't return my feelings, I'll get over it—"

"But that's the thing I don't want you to get over it."

Jungkook blinked once, twice, and then another third time. Trying to comprehend your words while also trying to figure out what he was going to say was hard.

Your glossy lips moved. "I'm really willing to give you a chance and I'm so sorry for being such a cunt about it. I just—I needed some realization to understand my feelings. Truth is I've had a crush on you, but every time I saw you with these girls I always told myself I'm not good enough for you and that I'll never be. I’m also mad at the fact that you’re barely realizing your feelings towards me just now.”

He doesn't say anything which doesn't help your anxious state at the moment. Your gut scolded you, reminding you that you probably lost your chance and now you look like an idiot to him right now, confessing your feelings.

Jungkook sighed before embracing you. You stand still in shock from his sudden movements but chose to hug him back. His chin dropped down onto your head. "You're good enough for me, Y/N. You always have been and I'm sorry that it took me all these years for me to realize that."

"I couldn't stop thinking of you and all the shit I said. I'm really sorry from the bottom of my heart," you admitted.

His bulge pushed against you and your cheeks flushed warm. Jungkook didn't say anything but bent down to kiss you. His lips moved roughly against yours. Your fingers coming up towards his hair to run through them. His hands digging harshly into your ass, possibly leaving small bruises behind but you're unbothered by it.

You pulled away, enough to stare up at his eyes. "I seriously couldn't stop thinking about you. I fucking masturbated to you, just by thinking of the bus shit," you confessed, watching his face lit up in surprise.

"Yeah? What was going on in that head of yours?" he encouraged you. You giggled at him, his thigh coming between your thighs.

"Your fingers in my pussy," your cheeks burned pink as he coaxed you to go on. "Your big dick pounding in me."

The look on his face is priceless but it just stayed there for a mere second as Jungkook recollected himself. He couldn't believe what was coming out of your mouth, never in a million years would he ever imagine you of all people saying this. The warmth travelled towards his crotch as he hardened at your words. His friend of seven years, his crush for almost two years was here in front of him, revealing that she touched herself to the thought of him. A blissful comfort spread all over his body.

"Don't you want that to happen?" he didn't even realize how close you were, he was too caught up in his thoughts. "You don't want to fuck my brains out?"

Your thighs closed around his thick ones. You reached up to kiss his neck, pecking his soft skin. Jungkook grunted as you left open mouth kisses behind, gripping his hand and directing it near your hips.

"I can't do it here," Jungkook whispered to you once he grasped the circumstances. In a fraternity bathroom with people out there that can possibly hear you two? Jungkook would never allow himself to touch you here the first time you two have sex. You whined against him, rubbing your crotch on his thigh. "Shit, seriously Y/N? You're making this hard for me."

"What your dick? Why? I don't care where we do it. I just—I need it to happen—come on Jungkook fuck me," if your mind wasn't clouded by lust you would been very disappointed at yourself for what you were saying, but you could care less. He closed his eyes and tilted his head towards the ceiling. He was fighting with himself.

The only sound in the bathroom was the loud heavy bass music playing and the two of you heavily breathing. "Do you want me to go find another guy out there that can do the job for you or what?" you tried riling him up and it worked cause Jungkook was staring at you with dark hooded eyes. "Cause' I could walk out there and take any guy home with me do you want that?" you both know deep down you wouldn’t be able to do that. You’re too shy.

Jungkook came across as if something possessed him suddenly. His hair falling over his eyes slightly. His tongue came out of his mouth to moisten his lips. "Get on your fucking knees," Jungkook snapped, a hand going back to get tangled in your hair. You dropped down to the ground. "I wanna see your pretty tits," you pulled down the straps of your dress and got rid of your strapless bra, throwing it aside. "Well aren't you a desperate cock sucking whore?" you whined at him with your dress bunched up around your waist. "What don't tell me you like being called that?" he chuckled. Your cheeks flushed in humiliation.

You reached over to unzip his jeans. He merely let out a chuckle, extremely satisfied with your avidity. As you rolled down his boxers, his hand wrapped around your hair. "Look up at me, whore," your eyes jerked up to him. "Open your mouth," you gulped at the size, wondering if it was even going to fit in your poor mouth. He teased, rubbing the head of his cock on your lips when you did. Your jaw ached as you tried opening as wide as you can to please him. You looked up at him as he slid his cock in your mouth. He groaned, loving the warmth and wetness of your mouth surrounding him. He maintained the eye contact between you two whilst he carried on shoving his dick in your throat. You moaned and moved back once it hit your throat. But before you can, he gripped the back of your hair firmly and thrusted his hips forward. You gagged around him, tears brewing and ready to burst out. You extended your hands out to his thighs. He held your head in place, his cock shoving down your throat at an animalistic speed. "What a good little slut," he eventually praised you. "Letting me fuck her throat hard and shit," you shut your eyes.

You regret doing so. Feeling a tug to your hair, your eyes snap open and look up. "You get praised like a good bitch once and you think you can be a bad girl? I don't think so, whore," he stared straight into your eyes with his dark orbs devouring you. Your drool slithering down your chin. You peer up at him with desperation written all over your face. Your fingers glided down to your dress. You kept your gaze on him when your fingers entered your pussy, feeling how wet you are. "Are you seriously touching yourself?" he sounded thrilled at the idea. Jungkook stopped moving for a second, allowing you to suck on the head of his cock. He watched mascara run down your cheeks, feeling some sort of ego boost that he was making you look this way.

You nodded frantically, moving your fingers faster. You sucked him harder, your jaw throbbing as you attempted to deep throat him. He forced your head deeper so that your nose was touching his pubic hair. "I didn't give you permission, disobedient slut. You got three seconds to finish," he finished with a sullen laugh, knowing you weren't. "One, two–" Jungkook watched your eyes become watery as you hopelessly tried to get yourself to cum in just three seconds. "—three, take your fingers out whore."

You obeyed and showed him your fingers, glittering under the bathroom light, even though on the inside you were begging to be touched again. You thought of going against him. Jungkook let a cackle escape from his mouth. "Fuck, you're so fucking wet I bet you're fucking leaking out onto the floor."

You mewled, bobbing your head up and down. Releasing his cock out of your mouth with a lewd pop, you batted your eyelashes up at him. "I'm so fucking wet for you," he flashed you a quick grin, obviously content with your answer. He brought your fingers up to his mouth, sucking them off while maintaining eye contact with you. His tongue swirled around your finger as you repeat the same motion on his cock. He released your finger.

"You can use your hands," you pull away right after he said that. You pumped him rapidly, your hand moving back and forth. Your ears took in his grunts, feeling some pride for causing him to make those noises. He almost came when he felt your warm, wet mouth around one of his balls.

"I want you to cum on my tits." he agreed, staring down at you. Tension builds within his stomach as he groaned out loud. You gaped at him when his cum shoots towards your neck, aiming towards your breasts.

Jungkook's breathing became heavier as he came back down from his blissful state that he was in. He grew hard in a instant when he saw how fucked you looked. Your mascara running down your eyes, leaving a trail of black ink behind. Your hair was tangled together into a mess due to him gripping it so tightly. With saliva dripping down your red swollen smeared lips, his eyes drifted further down. The straps of the dress you were wearing were rolled out into your stomach, exhibiting your perky breasts that are smeared with his cum.

"You look like a fucked whore," he smiled at you with satisfaction resting in his mind.

You giggled at him, tucking your hair behind your ear. "Yeah, not just for you," you gazed up at him, a small smile on your lips.

He helped you get off the floor. His facial expression is now serious, indicating that he wasn't happy with your answer. Jungkook's fingers tapped the cold surface of the sink, indicating to sit down on it. You do so, opening your legs slowly.

He watched, eyes strictly locked in between your legs. "Who are you so wet for?" he asked.

You snorted and shrugged which only grew him more frustrated.

Jungkook growled and flipped you over. He bended you over the bathroom sink and bore his eyes into you by the mirror. "You wanna keep acting like a slut, you're might as well be fucked like one," you silently squealed in excitement. Jungkook lifted your dress up in one go. He pulled your underwear down, making you step out of them. "Put your leg on the counter," he commanded and you do as you're told. Lifting your right leg on the counter while the other one remained on the ground. You heard him frantically pull down his jeans. You gasped when you feel the tip on your entrance. He reached over for the condom on the counter.

"No!" you exclaimed. Jungkook stopped and looked down at your worriedly, wondering if you wanted to stop now. You gulped, feeling your cheeks burned in embarrassment. "Don't use one please." you whined. "I want to feel you raw."

You heard Jungkook chuckle from behind you. He felt like he was on cloud nine, he was fucking thriving. "Yeah? My fucking slut wants me to do her raw?" he started pushing himself. You held your breath as your walls allowed him to enter, tightening around his big shaft. His cock rimmed inside of you

"Y-yeah," you manage to choke out, staring at him through the mirror. He maintained eye contact to where your bodies connected, watching his cock sink into you as he held your hips in place. 

"Has any other guy fucked you raw, slut?" Jungkook brought his hand around your throat. You sensed that you could orgasm right there. You shook your head as he finally is inside of you fully. "What was that? Use your words, come on you're a big girl," he gripped your inner right thigh with so much strength, he could break it off if he tried. I mean those biceps.

"N-no only you. Just for you," he grinned at that.

"Good," you let out a loud moan when he started finally moving. His hips rutted into yours at an animalistic speed. He stared at you through the mirror, watching how your mouth opens and your breasts jiggle. He pressed your throat a little harder. "Bet no guy ever made you feel this way."

"Only you, Jungkook! Only you!" you manage to breath out. Your knuckles are almost white by how hard you're holding onto the counter. He lowers himself so his face is near your ear.

"Yeah? Look at you, telling me how I'll never have you yet you're over here drooling over my dick. Fucking whore." you whined harder as he breathed down your neck. You feel yourself began getting more wetter at his words. "Imagine what your family and friends will say when they find out you're letting me fuck you in the ass in a dirty bathroom at a frat party."

You shut your eyes, your pussy swallowing him back in. His hand squeezed your throat a little tighter. "Fucking slut," he snapped his hips at you. You moaned out loud, shamelessly. "On the dance floor dancing like one."

"Because I am one," he chuckled at that, fingers coming up to pinch your nipple.

"Yeah? Who do you belong to? Whose slut are you?" the grip on your throat tightened, not enough to block your airway however. Jungkook kept his eye on you through the mirror, your lips molding into an oval shape. His palm came down to meet one of your asscheeks. You jumped forward, Jungkook pulling you back onto his cock. He stopped moving to lock eyes with you through the mirror, his lips hovering over your ear. "When I ask you a question, I expect a fucking answer," you tried to move your hips a bit but he caught you before you can. "Now," his voice deepened. "Whose slut are you?"

"Your slut! I'm your slut! Jungkook, please—"

"Yeah? Scream when I fuck you so that everyone knows who your pussy belongs to," his hips rammed into you again. You swore you can feel him fucking into your cervix. You let a loud moan break free from your mouth, his hot breath fanned your ear.

A roaring pounding on the door snapped his head away. You whimpered and become aware that his pace was reducing as his attention was now on the other man trying to get in. Jungkook yelled out words that sounded fuzzy to your ears considering all you could hear is your heartbeat.

"No, no, Jungkook don't stop," you pleaded with him, twisting yourself to look at his lust filled eyes. "I'm almost there please!"

You almost screamed at him when he pulled out. He sat on the toilet lid, tapping his thighs that were spread out in front of him. "Ride me," he demanded. You're somehow quick on your wobbly legs, getting on top of him. You grasped his swollen red cock, lining it up with your entrance before sinking down.

Jungkook's hand went towards your hip to support you while the other one went further down to touch your swollen clit. His mouth came near your ear as you cried out his name. "If you don't come in the next minute, you're not cumming tonight, got it slut?" you panted but nonetheless nodded frantically.

And with that Jungkook sat back, watching you fuck yourself on his cock, you were basically using him as a toy and Jungkook loved that. The desperation look on your face was amusing and Jungkook stored in in his memories.

"Oh shit! Fuck I'm almost there," his palm travelled further down to rub your ass.

"Time's almost up," he wasn't actually keeping track but your determination to cum on such a short amount of time was adorable to him. Your thighs smacked his, bouncing on his cock faster. Jungkook's finger carried on rubbing against your clit, his eyes trailing down from your face to your bouncing breasts.

Your eyes rolled back as you heaved up. Your mouth opened wide, feeling your orgasm wash over you. Jungkook heard his name leave your mouth, panting. He almost came when he felt something warm soak into his jeans. Looking down, he became aware of what just happened.

"Fucking dirty slut," he hissed and allowed you to relax your head on his shoulder as your whole weight sunk down on him. His ears took in your sniffles. "Look what you did, squirted all over me slut."

Your cheeks burned in humiliation, nuzzling your nose into his shoulder.

You gasped when he lifted his hips up to meet yours. You cried out to him to stop but Jungkook's quick to silence you with his fingers stuffed in your mouth. Your tears threatened to spill. "You're so tight, fuck! Need to fuck you more, whore,"

It doesn't take long for him to sprout into you, judging the way you tightened around him and how fucked your face look when he looked down to meet your eyes. With his cum coating your walls, he slid out of you. A bit of cum came out and dropped down to his black pants leaving a white stain behind.

You attempted to stand out on your own but failed due to you not being able to feel your legs for a second. Luckily, Jungkook is there to help you. He bent down to help you put on your underwear.

"Are you on birth control?" he asked while zipping up his pants. You checked your face in the mirror, noticing the hickeys all over your neck and the mascara smothered down your cheeks.

You turned to look at him, pulling your dress down."Are you really asking me after we just had sex? Where's my bra by the way?" your face is met with your bra when he flung it at you.

He laughed, watching you put it on. "Yeah, seriously though are you?"

"Why? If I'm going to be your sugar mama I might as well be your baby mama." Jungkook looked stricken and you snickered, bringing your hand up to hide your mouth. "I'm joking," you wiped your face with some wet wipes you found in the drawers.

"Not funny, was ready to fucking make a run for it."

It was your turn to look stricken as Jungkook laughed. You frowned and slapped his chest.

It goes quiet, the loud bass music now coming back to fill your ears instead of Jungkook's moans. He stood awkwardly near the corner while you threw away the wipes you used to remove your makeup. Running your fingers through your hair, you turned towards him.

"So, does this mean that you're going to give me a chance?" the man in front of you standing like an anime character asked, as if he wasn't calling you degrading names a few minutes ago.

You smiled at him and lunged forward to kiss him. "Yes, I'll give you a chance Jungkook."

↳ in your heart; drabble collection

[taeescript]

29+1 (Part One)

𝔰𝔶𝔫𝔬𝔭𝔰𝔦𝔰: In which Seokjin is the Devil from The Devil Wears Prada, Taehyung is your work Jesus and Jimin is your handsome successful brother. 

𝔭𝔞𝔦𝔯𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔰: seokjin x reader (taehyung x reader if you squint real hard) 

𝔤𝔢𝔫𝔯𝔢: slice of life; ceo!seokjin (diva!seokjin)

𝔴𝔠: 3.6k

𝔴𝔞𝔯𝔫𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔰: heavy use of alcohol as a coping mechanism, a plethora of sarcasm (please don’t be offended) and a sprinkle of softness (is that a warning?). 

𝔞/𝔫: this sat in my unwritten folder since 2017 no lie. I wrote the premise and a singular paragraph at that time, then just gave up. I opened it a few days ago, got inspired again and this word vomit came out (heavily influenced by a midnight Zoom call with my friends). Ngl this was so much fun to write, and I hope you all enjoy it as much as I did. This will probably be in three parts.  𝔡𝔦𝔰𝔠𝔩𝔞𝔦𝔪𝔢𝔯: I did not know that DailyHive is an actual online news source when writing. This work is purely fictional and has absolutely nothing to do with the real DailyHive. 

part two

Your friends have a saying: After 29, nobody shares their age until they’ve accomplished something. 

In the past, you didn’t understand it. What’s so bad about saying you’re 30 or you’re 32? That’s still a young age! Sure, you’re not exactly in your prime anymore but you’re not old, right?

So, you continue in your own wondrous world of naïveté until that fateful day at your class reunion. You had simply been walking around, minding your own business when you had been stopped by an old colleague.

“Hey, Y/N, right?” she waves you down. 

You smile kindly, not even bothering to try and remember her name (you sucked at names, what could you say). 

“Hey…you!” you chuckle lightly, “How have you been doing?” 

An everyday question leading to catastrophic effects. 

“Oh you know,” she says and rolls her eyes as if you truly did know, “I’ve just been out and about. Did I tell you though? I got married last year!” She holds out her hand in which a giant diamond adorns her finger. “Wow!” you gasp, feigning interest. It’s not that you aren’t happy for her, but you are reminded of just how single you are currently. When was the last time you felt another human’s touch? Does kissing come back as easily as riding a bicycle? “Hey!” she says suddenly, “I’m actually meeting with a couple of friends from our class. You should come join! I’m sure they’d be happy to see you again!” You want to wave her off, but against your better judgment, you find yourself following in her footsteps and listening to her speak about wedding venues and honeymoon destinations.

“Oh my god!” another female voice filters in.

The “couple of friends” this old classmate had mentioned is in fact a fairly impressive size of twenty. This is also the third time the wedding announcement has been made. 

“Last year?” the female continues, “Weren’t you young?”

Yes, you want to respond. Yes she was young. A full 365 days younger than she is now.

Your classmate, Sooyoung (or Kiko as she insists going by now) titters in front of you. “I mean, you can sort of say I’m a late bloomer. I got married when I was 31.”

Her words unintentionally cut into you. Here you are at 29 without a beau in sight. You take a fast swig of your beer and end up hitting the empty glass with a clink to your teeth. Nobody notices.

“Enough about me, however, how about you?”

“I started my own business actually. It’s been doing really well and it’s been a crazy mind. Imagine me, my own boss at only 33!”

You nervously join them when they suddenly laugh together.  

“Hi, can I get another pint please? Actually add a tequila shot to that,” you whisper the last part to the waitress you had just stopped.

And that was how the rest of the night went. People asking one another what they had accomplished. Any moment in time after 30 would not be mentioned until somebody travelled to Uganda to build houses at 31 or another gave birth at the same age. Below 30, anything would be attributed to luck or in your case…

“What are you doing currently?” somebody asks you, “The little baby of our class.”

Swallowing your third tequila shot of the night, you wonder for the umpteenth time how you had become a part of this giant sharing circle. You wonder if it’s a blessing or a curse that you had graduated a little early and thus was younger than most of your peers.

“Well,” you start, “I’m currently working at DailyHive.”

“Ohh!” a man gushes. You recognize him as the once-upon-a-time science partner you used to cheat notes off of. “I use DailyHive nearly as much as Instagram these days. You guys cover everything from news to sports to fashion.”

You shrug. “Yeah. It’s, uh… it’s a pretty big company!”

“What are you doing there?”

Kiko-ex-Sooyoung hits the man teasingly on the shoulder. “Y/N is probably the Director of Marketing or something. Remember how she used to spend all class doodling in her notebook?”

“Or sleeping!” someone quips.

You don’t join in when they all laugh.

“I’m…an intern,” you say with as much pride as you can in a group of established professionals ranging from dermatologists to that one guy who had flown around the world as a TedTalk guest speaker.

A hushed silence befalls everyone.

“That’s…cool!” the same man encourages you, “Interns are totally rad! Everyone wants an intern spot these days.”

His girlfriend pats your arm, almost empathetically. “Yeah. I know a bunch of people who first start off as interns and then they shoot up the ladder quick enough. As long as you’re no longer an intern at 30, you’re golden!”

Once again, the entire group laughs as if she has said the most hilarious of jokes.

She composes herself and says to you, “Because after that, you should have accomplished something.”

Her words still ring in your ears as you sit at your desk this morning.

Yeah…something. All you need to do is accomplish something in the next three months before you are officially, 29 + 1.

Your fingers tap against your thighs silently while you observe the current debate that is occurring in the conference room. You barely have time to sweep the falling hair back behind your ear as your fingers ferociously fly across the keyboard to keep in track with the meeting.

Fei is arguing that the implement of a new search word system would boost users while Daniel says that it is a waste of resources. Instead, everything should be put into updating the entire system as a whole. You have long since lost track of their words as neither pertain to what you do as an intern.

“Enough,” the CEO of DailyHive holds up a hand. His one word causes the entire room to hush over – truly, the words of a god.

And that might as well be what he is. With his hair swept back and a lone tendril curling perfectly above his brow, Kim Seokjin is legitimately a walking god. Off his broad shoulders hang an expensive white linen suit bought with his pocket change and your yearly salary. A pair of sunglasses hangs in the V of the collared shirt dipping low enough to blur the lines between being fashionably professional and just downright sexy.

The snap of his fingers brings you back to the present.

He dramatically rolls his eyes and accepts that you are an incompetent minute-taker.  

“I have to remember that the world just doesn’t move as fast as I do.”  

                                                            - Quote: Rolling Stones 2019 Kim Seokjin.

Now if only he’d remember he had once said that.

He points at each of them with one finger, then swipes to the left. “Both of you, solve this outside. I don’t want to hear your voices any longer. You two from the marketing team, Ungroomed Stache and Acne Chin, create me a report if we are to implement Ms. Song’s idea. The two of you from…” he takes a pause here clearly having forgotten who his employees are, “The two of you do the same thing but for Mr. Hwang.”

The pair from accounting open their mouth to protest that they are in charge of only numbers, but they are ignored.

“All of you out now. Except you,” he points his finger directly at you, “Stay.”

Nobody utters a single word until they have all left and you are left alone with him. Standing before him with your hands folded nicely in front of you, you blink and wait.

He stares right back at you, picks up his coffee mug and drops it. The clatter of ceramic smashing against the ground causes a pause in the loud buzz outside the room. You know everybody’s focus has been shifted into the room.

“Do you want to kill me?” he drawls.

You take a long inhale. “No,” you say.

“No?” he repeats the word, “Well I think you do. Did you check this coffee before you brought it to me? I tasted cinnamon in it. You know how I’m allergic to cinnamon. Get me a new cup. And this mess, get somebody to clean it. I don’t want the smell of coffee in this room when I have my next meeting here in twenty. I’m taking a smoke a break.”

He stands up and brushes past you without saying anything else.

Nobody can be allergic to cinnamon. Besides if he had actually tasted cinnamon and was that sensitive, he would be dead. And good riddance to that.

Of course, you say none of this and wordlessly begin to pick up the broken ceramic pieces of the dead mug. The bustling outside the meeting room has returned back to its normal state of chaos. Seeing the ugly stain of coffee on the once pristine carpet causes you to swear beneath your breath.

“Who the fuck is allergic to cinnamon?” a new voice says, sliding up beside you.  

The second god in DailyHive; the much nicer and evidently preferred Kim; Taehyung takes the mug pieces from you and drops it into the garbage bin.

Blessed with not only intelligence but devilishly model-like features, he is your desk buddy in the small space allotted for interns and your sole friend in the company.

“Tae,” you sigh with exasperation upon seeing your lifesaver, “What am I going to do about this stain? He’s going to return in fifteen and there’s no way I can get a coffee stain out of this expensive-ass carpet.”

Taehyung taps a long finger to his lips, leaves the room briefly, and returns with a roll of Bounty sheets and a can of Febreze. He promptly blots as much of the coffee off from the carpet then proceeds to pull the meeting table.

“C’mon, Y/N, don’t just stand there. Help me! Time is of the essence!”

You laugh and join him in moving the table so that one of the legs cover the stain 80% of the way. Once he is satisfied, he takes the Febreze and sprays until the whole room smells like “Hawaiian Aloha”.

“You’re welcome.” He gives an extravagant bow, the motion popping open the top button of his shirt to expose a surprisingly chiseled chest.

Fei returns back into the room holding a phone to her ear and a clipboard in her left hand. “What the hell? It smells like a Bath & Body Works in here. Intern, aren’t you supposed to be filing or something? Stop standing around and be useful.” She grips Taehyung’s arm and drags him out of the room. “Button up. This is a professional workplace.”

You give him a tiny wave as Taehyung is steered away by his girlfriend and back to the cubicles.

Taehyung may be your saviour at work, but outside, it cannot be denied that your brother is the true Fountain of Life.

A week has passed since the coffee incident (you suspect a cleaning personnel had found the stain and cleaned up after your improv as aforementioned stain can no longer be found), but Jimin still brings it up.

“I still can’t believe that he said he was allergic to cinnamon. I’ve never heard of such bullshit before,” your brother says over the phone. You can practically hear his eyeroll from across the world.

As a renowned ophthalmologist, you have not seen Jimin for close to a year as he has been initiating his new clinic, a flying eye hospital.

“You should hear his Starbucks order. I always feel like I’m ready to launch my next EP whenever I’m at the counter,” you say.

Jimin laughs. There is the muffled sounds of voices as his never-ending flow of patients have arrived for the day.

“I shouldn’t keep you,” you say upon hearing that, “You’re probably really busy.”

“No,” he says, “I’ve got a few minutes if you’ve got a few. I miss talking to my baby sister.”

“I’m not a baby anymore, Jiminie,” you say using the nickname he hated.

“Oh that’s right. Your birthday’s in a little under three months, right? My baby sister is turning the big three-oh.”

“God, don’t remind me.”

“Want me to come visit you?”

You contemplate the idea once, having not seen Jimin in quite a while.

“Only if you have time. But I feel like Mom and Dad would probably want to see you more. Speaking of which, um… How are Mom and Dad?”

“They’re good. I hear Dad is finally going to retire this year. He’s giving his practice to Kibum, you remember him? Mom will probably start pestering us about what to do for his retirement party.”

There is a pause.

“You know, it wouldn’t hurt to say hi to them once in a while.”

You sigh. “And say what? Hey, it’s me. The child that ran away from home at 18? Yeah, I’m not a doctor like everybody else in the family but a 29 year old intern at a popular app company. Whassuuup?”

“Y/N, that’s not what I – ”

“It’s okay, Jimin. I’ve come to accept that not everybody is cut out to be a doctor. I just wish Mom and Dad could realize that.”

Jimin sighs on your behalf. There is the sound of a crying child coming through the earphone. “Well, your contract expires a few weeks after your birthday, right? Who knows, you might be the next Mark Zuckerberg.”

He has never explicitly inquired about your life plan and you know this is as much as he is willing to push without asking, “What’s next after this intern hiccup?” At least he had the decency to compare you to a controversial Internet entrepreneur.

The child is crying much louder now.

“Again with my birthday. But I’ll let you know,” is the only reply you can come up with at the moment. “Okay, brother, go forth and heal the blind. I bless thee in the name of the Holy Spirit, Son and Ghost.”

There is true laughter that rings from Jimin as he ends the call. “It’s Father, Son and Holy Ghost you dweeb. I love you sis.”

“You too.” You hang up first before he can add anything else.

With that, you enter into the 7am Starbucks queue and prepare yourself in running the first single of your long overdue EP.

Seokjin leans back in his chair, watching you from inside his office. Today he has chosen a black turtleneck and a brazen maroon-nearly purple suit jacket to complete the outfit. For once, there is an empty mug of coffee beside him and his morning headache has been appeased.

He knew he had given you an impossible task.

“Compile all the troubleshooting errors we have received since the launch of DailyHive. Organize it in a manner that allows me to identify the most prominent problem. Run it through whomever you please before giving it to me. I don’t need to waste my time correcting your mistakes.”

There is an amused smile that bubbles beneath his otherwise stoic features. He cannot deny that there is, might he dare say, a cute quality about you as you manually scan through the received concerns on your laptop dating back to the initial beta tests – the ones that were lost in a data crash and only backed up with unintelligible scribblings of previous interns.

The moment you had been introduced as the new intern, you had caught his eye. You are exquisitely mundane, and perhaps the reason you had even caught him the first time was due to solely to the fact that you were older than most interns – himself even. Nevertheless, you continue to present him small surprises in your tenacity and capability to tackle challenges.

“Mr. Kim.”

His intercom comes alive with the voice of his secretary.

Seokjin’s eyes do not leave you as he answers.

“Mr. Hwang is on line two. Would you like me to defer him to a later time if you are currently busy?”

Seokjin cannot help but sigh. Hwang Junho, his co-founder, while a genius in international business is also a notorious chatterbox and gossip. There is seldom a reason for Junho to call him except to relay the cover titles of E!Magazine.

“Did he mention a reason for calling?” Seokjin inquires.

His secretary seems to be reading from a note. “He says it’s to do with the company. Something he read from Cosmopolitan this morning.”

So not E! but another sister celebrity gossip blog. He checks his watch and duly notes that he certainly has no meetings scheduled until later in the afternoon where your report would be needed to run a preliminary analysis.

“Sir?”

“Yes, put him through. But tell him I’ve got only five minutes, so he’s better give me the Cliffnotes version,” Seokjin sighs again.

Before he can be connected, Seokjin quickly says, “What’s the name of that intern again?”

“Who?” his secretary asks, “We’ve hired four since the beginning of the year.”

“The one who keeps wanting to poison me.”

“I’m sorry, Sir?” she sounds concerned.

“The one who keeps forgetting that I despise cinnamon.”

There is no response.

“The older one. Spilled coffee a while ago but still has enough coordination to pull together a decent report.”

“Ah,” she says.

He waits patiently as she searches through the database, eventually giving him your name. He gives a slight pause and then says, “Good. Now patch me with Junho.”

There is a momentary buzz as the call becomes connected in which Seokjin turns over the syllables of your name wordlessly.

“Mr. Kim. The man of the hour. How are you, my brother?” Junho’s baritone fills the office in a manner of seconds.

Despite the little annoying quirks, Seokjin cannot help but smile when hearing the voice of his best friend.

“You’ve got three minutes, Junho.”

Junho grumbles. “That’s not my fault. You were the one still on the line with your secretary. Is it still Yerin? ‘Cuz I won’t blame you if that’s the case. Did I catch you doing some naughty phone sex during office hours?”

“Two.”

“Holy hell. Fine. It’s always business with you. That’s why the tabloids are always writing you as an uptight asshole.”

This shifts Seokjin’s attention to the phone. His name is seldomly mentioned except for the features in business columns. He prefers to stay out of the limelight.

“What?”

“Put your name on Google.”

Seokjin does as he is told.

There are millions of results, but the first few pages share the same headline. He clicks on the first one with a grimace.

“Kim Seokjin. Mr. Worldwide Handsome as noted by his fans, has recently sparked Internet outrage.”

A quick skim of the otherwise trashy article brought to the surface a summary: his last dating scandal had ended badly and the repercussions of blowing off a famous celebrity’s daughter had finally caught up with him. The Internet was calling him arrogant, narrow-minded, and even greedy. “The young Chief Executive Officer of booming social media app DailyHive has been accused of using his relationship with actress XYZ to further his own business. Once he gained recognition from aforementioned relationship, he has cold-heartedly cast her away to pursue his next.” “You’re calling me for this bullshit?” Seokjin scoffs. Junho tuts his tongue loudly. “This is not bullshit. It’s affecting the image of your company. Do you think people want to download and support an app that is run by somebody who is being called cruel and dishonest? You’ve got to address this soon before it gets out of control. You’re lucky I have alerts set for these type of things. I caught it for you just in the nick of time.” Seokjin inhales deeply. “You’re also lucky that I’ve got the perfect solution in mind.” “That is?” “The Silver Gala,” Junho references the prestigious event. The Silver Gala is hosted annually and attended by the largest celebrities as well as other wealthy investors and guests. Those in the social circle shared between Seokjin and Junho often yearned for tickets to attend events such as this, as they serve as excellent networking opportunities. Besides the above, such events are circled by reporters and writers of gossip columns to get the exclusive scoop on any eyebrow-raising rumours. “The solution lies in such an event,” Junho continues, “You know how many people will be there. All you’ve got to do is show up with your average girl-next-door type and it’ll show how you’re actually really humble and down to earth. Kim Seokjin is perfectly capable of dating like any regular human being. He doesn’t use “love” or whatever to further his business. Love is the connection between two souls; two individuals who – ” “Beep. Your time has run out Junho. I’ve got another meeting scheduled right this moment,” Seokjin interrupts. “Dude, seriously. Think about it. You could bring Yerin. Everbody loves a good CEO and his secretary affair. And if that’s too juicy for you, I can introduce you to some girls. Or maybe we could go back to our university days and hit a bar, y’know?” Junho tries his best to persuade. “Fuck!” you swear beneath your breath right as you walk into Kim Seokjin’s office. His door had been open and, in your excitement to show your completed report, you had dropped all the loose papers on the ground. Four hours of organization gone, just like that. You hope that at least Seokjin hasn’t heard or noticed you as he had been engrossed in his phone call. Seokjin had in fact noticed you. He can’t help himself but follow the curvature of your bare shoulder as your bangs escape the hold of your scrunchie and sweep across your skin. “Don’t worry, Junho, I’ve just thought about it,” he says with a smile.

[alaskasmonsters]

Chapped lips | Shigaraki Tomura

after that night, the night he'd first reached out for your hand, you and shigaraki had gotten a lot closer, even if that only meant you were holding hands a lot. or did it?

part 1

pairing: shigaraki tomura x gn!reader

w.c: 2.651

warnings: head empty just tooth-rotting fluff, also shigs being insecure about his skin, he’s still touch-starved :c

a.n: @hufflefluffslytherin​ asked for a part two and i really really really adore touch-starved shigaraki (and writing him) so i just had to comply!🥰🥰 (also if you’ve never seen fanart of shigaraki with his hair tied back i am so sorry, but you’ve been deprived)

Holding hands had become somehow normal between Tomura and you, although it usually ended up being in the privacy of his room. If Kurogiri noticed how close you’d gotten after he sent you to his room that one time he didn’t mention it. He’d only smile gently at you when you caught his...floating orbs. You weren’t sure if you could call it a smile when the guy didn’t have a mouth, or eyes….or a face. It was more like a vibe that you got from him.

The rest of the league had noticed the two of you had gotten closer, too. They were not stupid, after all. Well, they were all idiots, but they were smart idiots. You’d spent a lot more time at their lair now in consequence of you spending more time with Tomura. And of course every one of them had to give their two cents to the situation.

Toga would beam at you, teeth flashing and eyes sparkling with excitement, whenever the both of you were in the same room. When Tomura wasn’t present the girl would dreamily stare into the air, planning your wedding in detail. It was cute, almost endearing, if it wasn’t so embarrassing. You’d turn red as a beat and Toga would giggle at your flustered state.

Dabi turned to relentless teasing, constantly making jokes, some of which were so beyond inappropriate you’d loved to wash his mouth and your memory out with soap.

Compress was surprisingly soft on you, never once mentioning the new undetermined relationship between you and the boss, although you were certain he sent you winks from beneath that mask of his.

Spinner was being a little shit like always.

Tomura and you had grown closer in the process of your occurring hand holding sessions. Often you just sat next to him on the bed (yes, you’d gotten the privilege of being allowed on there), you would scroll through your various social media while Tomura explored the skin of your arms and your hands with his fingers.

You would have never expected he could be so...soft...quiet...calm...innocent. Just silently sitting next to you, staring at the ceiling or somewhere else (anything but you) while he let his fingers gently glide over your hands until you’d end up with your fingers intertwined.

He didn’t like talking a lot, you realized. Still private, still unrelentless.

It had taken weeks between then and now before you’d even gotten to this point. A point where Tomura felt comfortable enough to request your touch whenever he felt like it. Sometimes he just sent you the blank faced cat emoji and you knew that your presence was requested. You didn’t comment on it, just silently complied, sitting next to him in silence until he initiated the contact.

You knew he was still in disbelief about your nonchalance whenever he did reach out to touch you. He always did it so carefully, barely gracing your skin. As if he wanted to leave you enough time to react and pull back.

It was endearing.

Sometimes he tested you, brushing his fingers over parts of your upper arms, shoulder, leg, stomach, watching you out of calculating eyes, expecting, awaiting you to flinch back. You never did. Like you said, you didn't have it in you to mistrust Shigaraki in that way. All remaining resolve had crumbled the moment he’d first reached out for your hand.

When you knocked on his door that night, you were already buzzing with excitement, clenching the little item in your palms, something you’d brought for Tomura. You didn’t wait for his answer, already opening the door and slipping a moment later since he had sent the cat emoji earlier.

Tomura was sitting on his bed, game controller in his hand, the screen of his tv showing a shooter game was the only light that illuminated the room.

You had quickly realized Tomura enjoyed quiet and dark places.

He didn't look up, just glanced at you from the corner of his eyes, as you approached him and sat down next to him, already smiling. The item you brought was securely hidden in your palms.

The man hummed in greeting, scooting closer until your legs were touching slightly, barely brushing.

That was another thing you had noticed about him. Tomura wasn’t only enamored by holding your hand, but he craved the simplest of touches. It didn’t come as a surprise to you, considering most of his life everyone had been avoidant of him. You had figured he must be incredibly touch-starved, searching your warmth now that you’d willingly given it to him already, taking whatever he’d get.

It was cute.

You watched him play for a little while, supporting your weight on your hands as you leaned back onto your palms. But quickly your attention shifted, your eyes settling on the side of Shigafaki’s face. Eyes wandering from the scars around his eyes, to his dry lips and then to the sensitive skin on his neck...you could imagine it must hurt a lot.

You were a little familiar with impulsive behaviour like that, you’d bitten your fingernails for years, picked at the skin around them, too. It was a bad habit, one fueled by stress. Something you sometimes went back to whenever it would get too much. But you knew that was hardly comparable.

“Why are you staring at me?”

You were pulled from your thoughts by his hoarse voice, soft despite the scratchiness of it. You didn’t reply immediately, watching the ways the shadows danced across his features.

“Does it hurt?”

You didn’t have to point out what exactly you meant, he understood immediately.

“I’m used to it,” his answer was curt and you noticed how he lowered his head to let more of his hair fall into his face.

You hummed, not mentioned how tragic that truly was or how badly you wanted to hug him. He probably didn’t want your sympathy, perhaps even mistake it for pity.

You sat up instead, smiling widely in hope to ease the sullen mood as you raised your hand to finally uncover what you’ve been hiding all along.

“I’ve brought something,” you declared proudly.

Tomura glanced at the little item you held up to his face, eyes narrowing to read the name of the product. When he recognized what it was, he glanced up at your face, eyebrows furrowed in scepticism.

“Don’t tell me you want me to put that on my face.”

You laughed at the look of disgust in his eyes.

“It’s just ointment, don’t be so dramatic.”

He didn’t seem all too convinced by your words, face settled into a scowl.

“It’s really good, if you want to know my expert opinion,” you ignored the amused snort, “It’s moisturizing and helps with itches as well.”

He glanced at the object again, not very enthusiastic about the idea of it, you noticed, his face still purposefully lowered, his red eyes peeking out from beneath his white strands.

You cocked your head to the side.

“I could heal some of it, too, if it bothers you,” you suggested, although you knew you could really only do something against the recently damaged skin, nothing against the several small scars collected at the corner of his eyes or the base of his neck.

“Why, does it bother you?” he murmured, a sudden edge to his voice.

The grip around the game controller had tightened, although his pinkies were still skillfully spread to avoid disintegrating the piece of plastic.

“No,” you replied sternly.

Tomura hesitated for a moment, eyes darting between the tub of ointment and your face a few times before he made a choice. He paused the game and carefully placed the controller on the nightstand.

“Fine,” he mumbled, head angles towards you, “You can put that shit on me.”

You raised your eyebrows in surprise, itching to ask him to repeat himself, because you weren’t sure if you understood him correctly, if he really just agreed you could put ointment on his face. You. Not him, you.

But then he turned, until he was facing you completely, his legs crossed, knees bumping against the side of your legs and he watched you expectantly. You turned, too, positioning yourself so you were cross-legged as well and directly in front of him, trying to ignore the tingling in your stomach at being so intensely stared at by Tomura. You inched closer, bumping your knees more and the man leaned forward, almost expectantly, awaiting.

You stopped him with a raise of your hand and Tomura halted in his movements, squinting at the small object that you were now holding into his face. His forehead scrunched up at the sight of the hair tie in between your fingers and he gave you a sceptical look.

“Tie your hair back, Tomura.”

He grumbled, but complied to your request, lazily binding his hair together. A few strands fell out and back into his face and you softly pushed them behind his ears, not commenting on the way Tomura stilled at your touch.

Opening the tub of ointment, you put some of the substance on your fingers, glancing up at the man in front of you for approval. He was already looking at you with awaiting eyes.

Okay, if he didn’t make it weird you shouldn’t make it weird either.

You reached out to hold his face in place, cupping his left cheek gently. Tomura closed his eyes at your touch, leaning into your hand a little. You smiled slightly, raising your fingers with the ointment to the area around his eyes and started to carefully apply it to the skin.

The skin was rough under the pads of your fingers as you moved them over his face. He let you work in silence, the only sounds coming from him was the occasional hum whenever the cool ointment touched a specific sensitive area.

You moved on to the other side quickly, switching hands to apply the ointment with your left hand and hold Shigaraki’s face with your right, instead, to accommodate.

“Do you feel a difference?”, you asked softly, massaging the substance into his cheek.

He hummed.

“It’s nice.”

You smiled softly.

“Is it itching?”

He shook his head.

You moved on to his neck, occasionally glancing up at his face. It was relaxed, his eyes still closed, the corners of his lips slack. You smiled at the smoothened out features, your eyes getting stuck on the way down until you were staring at his lips. Dry and chapped but still kissable.

You froze in your movements.

Hold on, what.

Tomura had noticed you had stopped moving and cracked his eyes open, watching the expression on your face with interest.

“Why are you staring at me?”

You shook your head, desperately fighting the blush on your cheeks.

“Just thought you might wanna put lip balm on as well,” you replied calmly.

Good save.

The man scrunched up his face.

“You’ve brought that, too?”

You shrugged, spreading the last bit of ointment across his neck before you pulled back, massaging the leftovers of the substance into your hands.

“Well, i’ve got some with me,” you suggested, pulling it out of the back pocket of your pants.

Shigaraki eyed it suspiciously, raising his hand towards his neck before he halted in his movement, as he remembered your treatment, before he let it sink back into his lap.

“Don’t look so sceptical. It’s just a chapstick,” you laughed at the way he scrunched up his face in disgust.

To demonstrate you opened up the cap and rolled it up. Lifting it up to emphasize the plainness of your action before putting the lip balm on your lips. Smacking them together when you were done, presenting them with a grin.

Tomura looked thoughtful before he suddenly started smirking, his eyes gleaming with mischief as he gave a nod of approval. You frowned in confusion but didn’t get the chance to ask him what he was being so cocky about before he suddenly leaned in and caught your lips gently between his.

Despite the tenderness behind his touch you felt like the air was just punched out of your lungs. You were completely frozen against him, not moving, not knowing how to move. The line connecting your brains and limbs, the one that was supposed to exchange signals had been cut off the second Tomura’s mouth had touched yours. The man’s lips moved against yours just before he pulled back again.

You blinked up at him, mouth agape in shock as a warmth, a burning heat, spread through your skin, your face turning red.

He watched you in amusement before he smacked his lips together, loudly, a wide grin spreading over his features when he saw your eyes widen in shock.

“Like this?” he asked innocently.

You choked on your spit at the boldness of...literally everything.

“You! I...” you stuttered helplessly.

He chuckled slightly, strands of his bangs falling back into his eyes, which made him look even better than before. You huffed in mock offence.

“I can’t believe you, Tomura,” you grumbled, playfully hitting his knee as you tried to calm down your fluttering heartbeat.

The man just cocked his head at you, calculating eyes trained on your features. His stare was so intense you felt your face heat up again, just as you had started to calm down again.

He chuckled slightly, slowly leaning forward again, which led you to stop breathing for a second or two...or longer. He came to a halt right before your lips would have touched again, innocently glancing up at you through his lashes.

“Why? Do you want to kiss me?” His voice was deep and alluring.

You didn’t answer, the words got caught in your throat, the trust in your own voice vanished.

How could he turn from an innocent touch-starved gamer boy into this in a matter of seconds? It didn’t seem very fair to you. Especially when you were the one on the receiving end of this behaviour. Worse of all, Tomura seemed to enjoy your sudden speechlessness greatly, eyes drilling into yours as he inched even closer, the look in his eyes dared you to make a move.

He was close enough so you could feel his hot breath on your lips, so close the fruity smell of the ointment (you’d chosen a peach scent) assaulted your nose. All you could think was “Fuck it.” and throw caution out of the window.

You closed the remaining distance, planting your mouth on his and gained a satisfied hum in response. You smiled at the reaction, grabbing his face and pulling him more into you.

Tomura gave into your touch with ease, leaning in even more, searching your touch. He held your wrist, his pinky spread.

His lips were chapped and felt rough against yours, but you didn’t mind, not even a little bit. The kiss was heated, both of you getting more passionate as you deepened the kiss, the feeling indescribable. Your whole skin was tingling, your brain surely turned into mush.

Tomura wasn’t allowed to be this good at kissing, you thought. Did he kiss someone before or was this his first kiss? It couldn’t be...or?

The two of you parted when you ran out of air, both of you breathing heavily into the small space you’ve left between you. Tomura squeezed your wrist and chuckled breathlessly, shaking his head in disbelief as he stared you down. His eyes were sparkling with an emotion you couldn’t quite pin down but knew enough about for you to feel a little dizzy being looked at with.

“You really are crazy, you know that,” he whispered, a tone close to astonishment in his voice.

You just smiled, thumb brushing over the warm skin of his cheek.

Crazy for you, Tomura.

Taglist: @crystal-lilac​  @hufflefluffslytherin​  @duf3h6237​  @chucky-26o1​

[fairyhee]

Chocolate eclairs (pt.2)

{Part 1}

🍫 optional bias x reader

🍫 ~5.6k words

🍫 smut, enemies to lovers, slight dom/sub themes, praise kink, some dirty talk, oral (both receiving), face sitting (whew), reader has a thing for hands

(I might have dragged everything out for too long? I’m not sure, you tell me, but I just love thinking about all the details so I went with it. Also while I was writing, at some point I lost half of it and had to re-write it because the damn app didn’t save my changes to the draft 🙃 anyways thank you for reading!)

So far, nothing was going as planned today, but somehow you didn’t mind it anymore. At first you were extremely annoyed to say the least, but you slowly started to think having a tall and ridiculously handsome guy follow you around wasn’t so bad after all. Even though he was purposely being irritating, as always, just to get reactions out of you, it was worth enduring for the random flirty remarks he spat out every once in a while. Was he always like this? Did you only realize it now because you were too busy thinking how obnoxiously confident he was, or did he really also dislike you before? You were quite confused, but you at least thought you should enjoy the moment.

After buying those damn chocolate eclairs that you had been craving for a week, and after he insisted to pay, all while poking fun at how you were gonna die at a young age from how much sugar you consume, your next stop would have been the lingerie store. Except now you had him coming along with you, so you weren’t very sure what you should do. To buy some time, you pretended to look at all the stereotypically “romantic” objects that people usually gifted each other on Valentine’s day. Just for fun, you weren’t planning on hinting at anything, but you just wanted to see what he’d be like. Not to mention window shopping was one of your favorite activities when you had nothing else better to do. He, on the other hand, had his mind fixed on one thing solely.

“Y/n, aren’t we eating those eclairs? You didn’t want them just to carry them around, did you?” he asked with a pout.

“Excuse me, since when is there a ‘we’? They’re my eclairs, and I’m saving them for later. I told you I have plans, were you even listening to me?”

“You have plans, right. Well you should be careful then, that boyfriend you have plans with might get jealous if he sees you walking around with a guy like me. I honestly wouldn’t blame him if he felt threatened, after all, you just let the most handsome dude around here buy you coffee and sweets...oh wait, I forgot. You actually don’t have a boyfriend, do you now?” he said in a sarcastic tone. 

“It’s extremely funny that you think I need a man in order to have plans on Valentine’s day. I can very well take care of myself, thank you very much.”

“You can take care of yourself in what way exactly? Because if it’s what I’m thinking of, I bet I can do it better.”

“Thank you for your concern, h/n, but if you think you can buy your way into my pants with some sweets, then you have a very low and unrealistic expectation of me. If you want to impress me, try harder.”

“Oh don’t worry, this is far from my best shot. You just look so hot when you’re mad at me, I can’t stop myself.” he said with a sheepish laugh.

You blushed slightly, both at his words and from seeing him grinning so cutely. He had no business looking all cute like that after he had just literally suggested you sleep with him. How could he switch from being so cocky to getting shy for you in just a matter of seconds? You couldn’t help but wonder what he’d actually be like in bed. Especially since he had just showed a new side of him, a particular image of him being submissive to you was stuck on your brain. You could feel your face heating up, and you hoped he didn’t notice how red your cheeks had probably become.

Brushing it off, you entered a random toy store, feigning interest in some plushies. As you were admiring the various teddy bears that came in all shapes and colors, you noticed he had been surprisingly silent since your last exchange. You threw a glance at him and he seemed to have found some games he was interested in, as he had his eyebrows furrowed, trying to read the instructions on the back of some boxes. Perfect, you thought to yourself, now that he’s distracted, you could think of a plan. What the hell were you gonna do about the lingerie? You didn’t want to give up on buying it, you had wanted it for a long time and now was the perfect occasion. Did you want to go with him? Would he want to even enter the store with you? Would he become flustered and make things awkward? Would it be weird if you suddenly told him to leave you alone for a couple of minutes and meet you later? Or should you just end your meeting right there? You weren’t even sure how you wanted to spend the rest of the day anymore, but you for sure didn’t intend to abandon your plans completely for this man that barged into your solo Valentine’s day like that, despite the fact that you were starting to get interested in him.

While you were definitely overthinking the situation, h/n had long finished browsing the board games section. Suddenly, you felt someone’s hot breath near the side of your neck. 

“Y/n. You’ve been staring at that teddy bear for 3 minutes now. Did you not have any as a child, or do you want me to buy it for you that bad? You could just ask, you know.” 

Startled by the proximity of his voice, you turned your head to him and took a few steps away. “Wow, you sure have a talent for being rude. You’re still annoying even when you’re trying to hit on me.” you said trying to seem unaffected. However, you would lie if you said that feeling his breath on your skin didn’t send shivers down your spine. 

He chuckled at your reaction and slid his hands into the pockets of his jeans. 

“So? Do you want it or not?”

“With that sort of attitude, I shouldn’t even answer. So what if I wanted it, what would you do? There’s nothing between us, so why would you buy it for me?” you taunted. You knew he was trying to make you soften up, but you weren’t falling for it just yet.

“Who said I’d buy it for you? If I did and you ended up sleeping with a stuffed toy every night, that would just be unfair.” he pouted. Why was he acting this cute now? This man was so confusing.

“What the hell does that even mean?”

“I don’t wanna be jealous of a teddy bear. I’d rather you would sleep with me instead.”

You stared at his triumphant smile for a few seconds, at a loss for words. He looked like he just made the best pick-up line ever. It was so bad, yet you wanted to accept his wish and take him home. What was wrong with you? 

“You’re absolutely obnoxious, did you know that? Wipe that smirk off your face, you look like an idiot.”

He laughed. “But somehow you’re still putting up with me. I’d say you’re doing a great job enduring me. Unless...you’re actually enjoying my company, which I suspect you do.”

“Yeah, whatever. Come on, I have one more thing to get before I can finally go home and get rid of you.”

You had made up your mind. You weren’t letting any man interfere with your plans.

Walking in the most confident way possible, you entered the lingerie store. You didn’t even spare him a glance as you looked through the pieces, searching for something that would match your taste. You were dying to know what his reaction was, what he was thinking, but you weren’t giving in. Suddenly, you had an idea. Acting like what you were doing was the most normal thing, you picked out two options, pretending you couldn’t decide between them. One was a black see-through set adorned with velvet hearts, while the other was made out of red lace and a bunch of straps that looked like a harness. Either way, both were made more to reveal rather than cover you up. Holding one in each hand, you turned to look at him with an unfazed expression plastered on your face.

“Make yourself useful for once and help me decide. Which one do I get?”

Seeing the way he was looking at you made a flush of heat spread across your face. His eyes were dark and he looked like he would have devoured you right then and there. You didn’t know what you expected, but this look was definitely not it.

He took a few seconds to respond, during which his gaze on you only seemed to intensify. He almost looked angry, clenching his jaw and eyeing you so strongly.

“You’d look great in both, but I’d take the red one.”

Hearing his choice, you immediately hung it back on the rack and took your other option to the cash register. 

You heard him scoff behind you. “Why bother asking me if you were gonna pick that one anyway?”. He was smiling, but it was clear that he was trying to control his frustration. 

You gave him the sweetest smile in the world. “I liked both equally and couldn’t decide, so I’m getting the one you like less. Since you’re never gonna see me wearing it anyway.”

“You drive me insane. That makes absolutely no sense.”

“Really? But you’re the one that’s been following me around all day. Now you’re angry with me, how come?” you said innocently.

He smirked and took a few steps until he was so close, you could feel his hot breath on your face, but you didn’t back away and maintained his gaze. His scent was intoxicating, and you were trying your best to not show how into him you were already.

“If you want to make me angry, you’ll have to try harder, babygirl.” you clenched your thighs hearing that word escape his lips. “I like your teasing a little too much, actually. But making me imagine you wearing all these pretty things only to point out that I can’t have you the way I want? I have to admit, that was pretty mean.”

“Are you challenging me? Then I guess I need to step up my game to really get back at you.”

“Alright then, let’s make a deal. If you fail to make me angry by tonight, you have to go on a date with me. What do you say?”

You couldn’t stop the smirk forming on the corner of your lips. “Deal. You know, now I kinda understand why you keep bothering me. It’s actually fun trying to get you annoyed.” This time you weren’t lying.

He smiled back at you. “Glad we’re on the same page about one thing at least. So, any other torturous shopping that we need to do today? An adult store, maybe, since you said you like to take care of things yourself?”

“Nice try. I actually have a table reserved for later today, so I’m gonna have to go home and get ready. I wanted to go alone and have some me-time, but since I don’t plan on losing that challenge, I guess now you gotta come with me.”

He stopped in his tracks. “Wait a second,”he said and put the back of his palm on your forehead as if checking for a fever, “now it sounds like you’re the one asking me out. What happened? Are you okay?” he asked in an overly dramatic way. Oh great, now he was back to being the town circus. 

“It’s not a date, silly. Hopefully, it’s gonna be the worst dinner of your life, so I won’t have to see your face ever again.”

“You do know that I could just not show up and make you lose the bet, right?”

“If you do that, you won’t get my number. So no way to receive your prize.” Besides, you thought to yourself, wasn’t tonight already a date in itself? There was no way he would skip on that, or at least so you hoped. “See you at 6.” you said as you walked away, leaving him behind. 

By now your only desire was to get him totally whipped for you. He might have seen through your intentions already, but you couldn’t care less. The fights and arguments that were real in the beginning had now become an act, some sort of game to see which one of you would give in first. And you weren’t backing down until you had him completely wrapped around your finger. This year’s V-day turned out to be a lot more fun than you initially thought. 

After getting home, you took your sweet time showering and making yourself as pretty as possible. Having drenched yourself in perfume and strawberry scented body lotion, you put on the new lingerie and a red dress that complimented your figure. You did some minimal, but flattering make-up and took a good look in the mirror. You looked good enough to eat. Exactly what you wanted.

By the time you arrived at the restaurant, he was already waiting for you, and you realized he had probably tried just as hard as you to look hot. And he had definitely done a great job. His hair was pushed back and the suit jacket he was wearing highlighted his broad shoulders and tall figure. You wanted him to push you against a wall right then and there.

“Are you sure you’re not made out of sugar? You look so good, I’m afraid that if I touch you, you’d melt under my fingers.”

“You wish. I don’t even get a hi, you start our conversation with a lame pick-up line? This evening is going to be even more boring than I thought.” you said rolling your eyes.

“It’s good to see you again too. Come on, let’s order quickly, I’m starving.” he said as he was already looking through the menu.

After this first exchange, the rest of the dinner actually went on pretty normally. Without realizing, you had gotten comfortable with each other and stopped arguing altogether. Now you were just chatting about whatever came to mind, enjoying your meals and each other’s company. However, you did notice his eyes lingering a little too long on your exposed neck and chest, which you did your best to bring forward as much as you could when you moved around. You were hyper aware of his gaze on every move you made and you loved the attention he was giving you. You felt like you were the only woman in the room for him, the only one that deserved his attention. You suddenly remembered you were supposed to get him angry, but you weren’t sure you didn’t want a second date after all. However, you felt the need to say something about it.

“Look at all these couples enjoying their romantic dinner, and then there’s us. Here for the sole purpose of annoying each other.”

“If that was the purpose, I’d call this an epic fail.” he said with a smile and took a sip of his gin tonic,”So you still don’t want to admit that this is, in fact, a date?”

“Why would it be one, when we haven’t done anything out of the ordinary? We are just two people eating out together.”

“Good thing the evening isn’t over, then. Great choice of restaurant, by the way. But even though the food was amazing, I’d still prefer eating you out.” 

His bluntness caught you off guard, and you let the glass you were previously holding down on the table with a little more force than intended. From the impact, your drink splashed everywhere, including on yourself.

You moved a bit of the fabric of your dress away so you could wipe the martini drops that had just spilled on your chest, which uncovered the strap and the top part of your bra for a few seconds. You didn’t think much of it, but heard him swallow loudly. When you raised your eyes back to meet his, he was looking at you like he wanted to undress you with his eyes.

“You did that on purpose, didn’t you?”

“Did what on purpose?” you asked confused.

“Don’t act so innocent, you know exactly what I’m saying.”

“No idea what you’re talking about. Anyway, care for dessert? You need some sugar in your system, you seem to be turning grim again.”

“If by dessert you mean you, then I’ll gladly accept. You have enough sugar to keep me up for a long time.” he said with a smirk.

“Oh god, can you cut the disgusting jokes out? You make me sick.” 

“You’ll be even more disappointed to find out they’re not jokes. By the way,” he leaned over the table so he could bring his face a little closer to yours, “we’ve almost finished our drinks and you still haven’t made me angry. Time is ticking.” 

You fell silent for a couple of seconds, and played with your necklace while deep in thought. You were done playing this game. You wanted him, and you wanted him tonight. You wanted to blame it on the alcohol, but ever since you stepped foot in that place all you had been imagining were his veiny hands all over your body, how pretty his long fingers were and how much you wanted them inside you. He hadn’t even touched you once, but your panties were feeling damp already just by staring at his hands or seeing him clenching his jaw. You hadn’t noticed that your fidgeting with your necklace had caught his attention and he was now practically staring at your boobs without any hint of shame in his eyes. Your chest was heaving up and down as his eyes set your skin ablaze and your thoughts ran wild. Of course his gaze didn’t miss your heavy breathing. His fist was clenched on his glass and the veins on his arm protruded even more than usual. Your brain was so intoxicated with him that it completely forgot how to form sentences, leaving him without a reply. He leaned closer to you over the table and all but whispered.

“Just say the words, and I’ll give you whatever you want. All you have to do is say it.”

You hesitated, questioning whether you should swallow your pride or not. You stared into his deep brown eyes, glistening with lust, and admired his plump, slightly parted lips, silently pleading for you to stop this stupid game and finally admit what you’re feeling for each other. He was done playing, and so were you.

“It’s finally time for those eclairs.” 

A knowing smile spread on his face, as if he had just won the lottery.

The ride to your place was awfully silent. You felt like you could cut the tension in the atmosphere with a knife. Sitting near him in the back of the cab and just feeling his presence so close to you kept your skin burning up during the entire ride. He still hadn't touched you in the slightest, not even on your hand, and at this point you thought it was intentional just so you'd become desperate for him. It was working. It felt like the drive was taking ages, so you decided to have some fun and tease him a little.

You slowly slid your hand over your legs, starting from your knees and going up towards the hem of your dress, pulling it up ever so slightly. He noticed your movements instantly, and his eyes snapped to you. Now that you were assured he was watching, your hand traveled further under your dress, carefully so it doesn't reveal too much, and started running your own fingers across your damp panties.

His eyes widened, and you saw his adam's apple move when he swallowed a lump in his throat. "What do you think you're doing?" he whispered.

"What does it look like to you? I am an independent woman. Since you have not laid a hand on me all day, I'm doing it myself."

"You're an impatient one, aren't you?" you maintained his gaze but didn't stop your actions, slipping a finger underneath your underwear and whimpering ever so quietly, enough for only him to hear. You were determined to bring him down.

Like you had just pressed a button, his body reacted to your sounds faster than expected. The vein on his hand twitched as he quickly grabbed your wrist and held it in place.

"If you don't stop that, I’ll make sure you have trouble walking tomorrow." his words sent a shiver down your spine. With that, he firmly pulled your hand away and intertwined his fingers with yours, as if preventing you from causing more trouble. You decided to obey him, for now.

After a couple of minutes, you were arriving at your place. He followed you silently into the building and into the small elevator, where you were met with another crisis. He looked like he tried really hard to restrain himself as he leaned with his back and head against the mirror. He was looking at you through furrowed brows and hooded eyes, and you wondered why did he put himself through this struggle, when he could’ve had you right then and there. Pretending to check your mascara in the mirror behind him, you placed one hand on his chest and leaned over him, your face dangerously close to his neck, making sure your exposed cleavage pressed against him in the process. You didn’t care how obvious it was, he was clearly enjoying it. He did nothing but watch you, but his sigh and accelerating breath rate were giving him away. As soon as you reached your level, you instantly shot out of the elevator and got to your door in record time. 

The moment you set foot into the apartment and closer the door behind you, any control that you had before, just vanished into thin air. 

“Fucking finally”. He wasted no time in pressing you against the wall, both hands holding the sides of your face while he kissed you with all the pent up frustration from that day. You could feel his whole body onto you and yet you wanted more, your hands grabbing fistfuls of his shirt and tugging at it in an attempt to bring him even closer. His lips were soft but aggressive at the same time, the kiss neither too intense nor too slow, earning chills all over your spine the first time his warm tongue entered your mouth. It was still not enough, so you took over and laced your fingers at the back of his head, pulling on his hair while pushing yourself into him. His hands started traveling down your body, gripping your waist and hips with force as he pulled you even closer, making you feel his erection against you in the process. 

Out of breath, you broke the kiss to take a good look at him in this state. He was looking at you through glossy, hooded eyes, with his plump lips parted and glistening from the intensity of your kiss. He looked so hot, you realized you might not make it to the bedroom. 

Closing in the distance once again, his hands went to squeeze your ass through your dress as he started placing wet kisses down the side of your neck, painfully slowly, sending shivers all over your spine. You lifted a leg up to snake around his own, as if to invite his hands to stop wasting time and get under your skirt already.

“You’re surprisingly gentle for someone who’s been trying to get into my pants all day.” you felt him squeeze your ass harder, and he suddenly bit the soft skin under your ear and sucked on it, earning a gasp from you.

He didn’t reply, but instead slid his hand up your thigh and ran his fingers over your soaking panties.

“And you’re surprisingly wet for someone who supposedly hates me.” he teasingly rubbed the tip of his finger on your clothed clit, making you whine in response. It was almost as if the fabric wasn’t there at all, given how thin it was in the first place. “What did you buy this pretty underwear for, just to ruin it later?”

“Since when do you care about my lingerie?”

“I thought you wanted me to, since you brought me with you to that store and even asked for my opinion.” He pushed your panties to the side and properly coated his fingers with your juices. “You were such a dirty little slut for doing that to me.” his words shot straight to your core.

“Me, dirty? That little head of yours has a lot of issues. It’s your own fault for liking me in the first place.” you teased.

Hearing that, he pushed two fingers into your hole and you moaned. “You can talk shit all you want, but your body can’t lie about how much you want me, princess.” He pulled his hand away from your core, and took his own fingers, now coated with your essence, into his mouth, licking them clean. “Now be a good girl and take this dress off for me.” he said, pulling away from you. 

Not wanting to torture yourself any longer, you obeyed him, getting rid of your dress as quickly as possible. As he finally fully saw you in the pretty underwear, he eyed you from head to toe, as if he was looking at his prey, swallowing loudly. “Y/n, you’re so fucking gorgeous.” 

You pushed him back and led him to the couch, making him sit down. You quickly straddled his lap, making sure your boobs were right in his face as you grabbed the hair at the back of his head and brought your mouth to his ear, licking a stripe up from the side of his neck, reaching his earlobe. He shivered under you, and you started unbuttoning his shirt, while both his hands stroked over your boobs, touching your nipples and lightly pinching and twisting them over the thin material of the bra. The sensation was spreading into your entire body, making you moan right into his ear. You nibbled onto his earlobe, and he sighed loudly, grabbing your ass and pulling you on top of his dick, grinding into you. Your fingers ran over his now exposed chest and down to his belt, trying to get it undone. He grabbed your hands and undid it himself, and you stood up so he could get rid of his pants. 

Instead of sitting back on his lap, you dropped to your knees in between his legs and pulled his underwear down. His cock looked so red and hard, it seemed almost painful, and made your mouth water. You wanted to torture him some more though, so you stuck your tongue out and slowly ran it up from the base to his swollen tip, all while looking directly into his eyes. His eyebrows were furrowed and he was biting his lower lip so hard, as if to keep him from making any sound. You were going to change that. You swirled your tongue around the tip, collecting the drops of precum, before taking him whole into your mouth. As you started bobbing your head, you made sure to take a little more of him each time, pushing your own limit gradually, looking up at him from time to time. “Fuck, you look so pretty like this. You’re taking me so well.” he said, trying to keep himself from forming any other sounds, and you wondered why wasn’t he letting go already. You wanted to make him a moaning mess. One of your free hands started playing with his balls, as you ran your nails across his thigh with the other one. Going a little deeper, his cock hit the back of your throat, and you paused for a second, swallowing around him, which earned a long, breathy moan from him. There, that was your reward. You continued taking him as deep as you could, looking up at him with wide eyes. This was his breaking point, as he couldn’t control his sounds anymore, his mouth was agape, letting out small grunts and whimpers now and then, and you felt his hips struggling to keep still. As the ache in your pussy was getting unbearable because of your actions, your own hand came to play with your clit to get some sort of release, moaning around his cock. 

He didn’t miss this, as suddenly, his hand flew to your hair and he held you still. “Don’t you dare touch yourself. Get up” he said in a demanding voice. He followed you up himself, and completely slid his shirt and underwear off of him, then laid down on the carpet. “I want you to sit on my face. Let me have my dessert and enjoy you like you deserve.”

You didn’t need to be told twice. After discarding your panties, you placed your knees on either side of his head and carefully lowered your cunt closer to him, but he grabbed your ass and aggressively pulled you onto his mouth, making you gasp and grip the couch beside you for support. The feeling of his wet and warm tongue against you was making your thighs weak. He started by licking a long stripe across your folds, then alternated between sucking at your clit, drawing patterns with his tongue across your sensitive spot at different paces and intensities. Your sounds and whimpers were a mess, and you could feel your orgasm building with each second. He was eating you out like a starved man, face buried completely under your pussy, and the view was only contributing to your arousal. One of his hands snaked up to your nipple and started playing with it, adding to the sensation. When he suddenly applied more pressure to a certain angle, you thought you were gonna lose your mind. “Fuck, h/n, right there, please, don’t stop” was what you wanted to say, but you weren’t sure your words came out coherently. Either way, he got the message, and a few seconds later, you were coming undone on his tongue, letting out a few high-pitched moans as he helped you ride out your high.

After regaining composure, you stood up to let him breathe. His lips and chin were glistening from your juices, and he wiped them off with the back of his hand. “That was delicious. You’re a fucking goddess, did you know that?” he said as he stood himself up, grabbed your face and kissed you with force.

“Just fuck me already.”

“You don’t need to tell me twice.” he said as he pushed you against your table, having you lie down on it. He quickly grabbed a condom from his jeans and rolled it on his still painfully hard cock. Grabbing your legs and holding them on each side of him, he rubbed the tip of his member over your clit a few times before fully pushing it into your tight hole, swearing in the process. He wasted no time before moving, slowly at first to let you adjust, then suddenly slammed his hips into you with force, earning a loud moan from you. “Fuck, do that again, please” you said, already feeling your second orgasm starting to build up. He thrusted into you harder and deeper, filling the room with your sounds everytime his skin met yours. The way he filled you up was absolutely delicious, clouding your vision and making you lose yourself in your pleasure as he was hitting all the right spots inside you. 

“Ever since your brought me into that store, all I could think of was fucking you in your pretty lingerie, imagining how your boobs would bounce up and down while I pound into you like this.” you took his hand and brought it to your lips, silently asking him to let you suck onto his fingers. “You don’t know how much of a torture that wa- fuck” you took his long and pretty fingers into your mouth and swirled your tongue around them, mimicking the way you sucked him off earlier and watching him lose his ability to speak as his mouth hung open. “H/n, harder, don’t stop, I’m going to come.” you said in a desperate attempt to get him to shut up and concentrate. Motivated by your words, he increased his pace, and after a few more hard and sloppy thrusts, you reached your second orgasm, soon followed by his own. His whole body twitched as he came down from his high, both of you panting, and exhausted.

Pulling out of you, he quickly discarded the condom and took you into his arms to place both you and him comfortably on the couch.

“That was fucking hot” he said, still holding you in his arms while you were catching your breaths. 

“Yeah. I think I might hate you a little less after this.” you said and you both laughed.

After coming back to your senses, you got up and went straight to the kitchen. A few seconds later, you came back holding the box he bought you from the french bakery, handing him an eclair.

“I knew why I saved those chocolate eclairs for later. They taste better after you’ve been craving them all day, don’t you think?”

He just smiled in response. “You might be right. By the way, I won. It seems like you’ll be drinking ice americanos again, after all.”

[whereistheonepiece]

Missing You

Quick summary: Sanji misses Zoro.

Note: I haven’t outright stated it before, but my collection of short Zosan oneshots is connected to my fic “To Run.” This one makes a few references to it.

-

Sanji woke up to the feeling of Zoro’s lips on the corner of his mouth. His eyes flitted open and his lips curved upward in a groggy smile as he took in the sight of Zoro, partially hovering over him in bed, smiling down at him. Sanji made an amused sound in the back of his throat, laying a hand on his love’s bicep. 

“Hi,” Sanji said, his voice still thick with sleep. Sanji wound his arms around Zoro’s solid, warm torso, and pulled him down so Zoro lay on top of him. He chuckled softly as they both repositioned themselves to be more comfortable. “Morning breath,” Sanji whispered, putting his palm in Zoro’s face and pushing him back when Zoro leaned in for yet another kiss.

Sanji let out a small, undignified yelp in surprise when Zoro’s tongued darted out of his mouth and pushed between the gaps between Sanji’s fingers, poking out at Sanji in defiance. Zoro’s grin grew as Sanji withdrew his hand from his face.

“Child,” Sanji said accusingly.

“You had to know getting licked was a possibility when you put your hand there,” Zoro, incorrigible as ever, shot back.

“Actually, I thought you might just bite me like the savage you are,” Sanji said, staring up at Zoro with partially closed eyes.

“And that wouldn’t have bothered you?”

“No, because I was expecting it.”

Zoro snorted, rolling his eyes. “Dumbass,” he said, the playfulness in his voice turning the old insult into a term of endearment.

“Barbarian,” Sanji said in return, grinning to himself when Zoro laid his head on his chest.

“You love me,” Zoro said, more to annoy Sanji than to state the obvious.

“You’re so sure of that,” Sanji said, his voice glib, his fingers soft as he ran them along the path of Zoro’s spine all the way to his head, pushing through the soft green hair.

Contentment rumbled from deep within Zoro’s throat as Sanji played with his hair. “Yeah,” he said dreamily. “I am.”

Sanji lifted his head to kiss the top of Zoro’s. If only those who called Zoro the Demon of East Blue could see him now. They’d change their minds quickly if they could see him practically purring like a common house cat at having his hair stroked.

They lay there together, Sanji petting Zoro until his hand grew tired, Zoro lying on Sanji like a living, breathing blanket. Usually Zoro preferred to have Sanji lying on top of him, but Zoro had become somewhat clingier as of late, coming to Sanji for physical affection more frequently than he normally did whenever they had time alone together. 

It had been a bit of an adjustment for both of them when Sanji brought Zoro onto the Baratie. Back when they sailed on Sunny, Zoro could come to Sanji when he was preparing food for the next meal. He would hold onto him like the clingy, affectionate pest that he was. Zoro was less clingy whenever he had Sanji’s full attention, but he’d been receiving less of it lately.

It had been easier to give Zoro his attention back when all Sanji had to worry about was keeping a small crew fed and didn’t have a restaurant and its guests to look after, a staff working under him, or the constant pressure to prove himself worthy as Zeff’s successor. It was even harder to give Zoro his attention when he couldn’t let him hang onto him while he was cooking like he used to. Sanji was sorry that he couldn’t give Zoro that anymore. While he used to tease Zoro for being needy or accuse him of being annoying when Zoro grumbled at him for needing to move around the kitchen while they stood like this, Sanji did enjoy it. It was a nice compromise that kept Zoro happy, and Sanji did enjoy the company and the fact that Zoro wanted to be close to him. But Sanji was a boss now, and it was hard to be taken seriously when he had a grown man hanging off him.

So Zoro found a new way to get Sanji’s attention. He’d observe restaurant activity until there was a lull, and then he’d waltz into the kitchen, grab Sanji by the wrist, and announce, “Break time!”

The other chefs were always overjoyed to see Zoro. Sanji was aware he wasn’t an easy boss, especially if the day was stressful, and Zoro pulling him into the office to kiss him always left him in a better mood. The staff had noticed this, and so they welcomed Zoro in the kitchen, showing their appreciation with booze and a snack whenever he and Sanji came out of the office.

“You’re spoiling him,” Sanji would always chide the chefs, although secretly he was grateful that Zoro and the chefs were on good terms.

But maybe Zoro was growing restless with the way things were on Baratie. Sanji had less days off than he did back when they were part of a pirate crew. There were no more islands to explore, less opportunities for them to have a day all to themselves. So Zoro found more reasons to initiate physical contact with Sanji. He pulled him onto his lap when they sat down together. He grabbed him in his sleep and was always hesitant to let go upon waking. He’d touch him in some small way throughout the day whenever he saw him.

And then came the suggestions. It first started with simply telling Sanji what he should do regarding his work schedule.

“You work too hard, Cook,” Zoro would say. “You should ease up a little.”

“That’s what happens when you run a restaurant, Marimo,” Sanji would retort.

“You should go on vacation,” Zoro said one day, leaning against the wall and staring out the window. His arms were crossed and his stance was relaxed. He spoke as if this had just occurred to him, though Sanji was now starting to suspect it had been on his mind for longer than he’d let on. “Take a break from restaurant life. We can go visit the rest of the crew. Or just go wherever. Doesn’t have to be super far.”

“I don’t have time for a vacation,” Sanji said dismissively. He placed a cigarette between his teeth as he lit up.

“Why not?” Zoro asked, looking at Sanji.

“Who’s gonna run this place with me gone?” Sanji replied.

Zoro blinked. “Zeff. It was his restaurant, originally.”

“Zeff’s worked hard enough for three lifetimes,” Sanji said, waving the idea away with his hand.

“Okay,” Zoro said tensely, sounding as if he was forcing himself to be patient. “Couldn’t your cooks manage without you for a little bit? Some of them’ve been here as long as you.”

Sanji abruptly stopped in the middle of a drag of his cigarette, holding the smoke in his lungs as he tried and failed to imagine those idiots getting on without him. It was why he still hadn’t gotten around to appointing a sous chef.

He cringed, exhaling sharply through his teeth. “No,” he said firmly.

“You’re just making excuses now, Cook,” Zoro said, his brows pulling down in a scowl.

“What do you want from me, Zoro?” Sanji snapped. “I told you I can’t go on vacation! Can we talk about literally anything else? I don’t have much time left on my break and I’d rather spend it doing something else other than getting pestered by you!”

Zoro grew silent, his scowl easing somewhat, but not going away completely. “You know what?” Zoro said, pushing himself off the wall. He walked past Sanji, his boots treading heavily across the floorboards. “Forget it.”

And Sanji had, at least until now. And he thought Zoro had, too, since he hadn’t brought it up again, though he’d kept his distance during the next few days, leaving Sanji to himself until they retired to their bedroom. Sanji hadn’t said anything, preferring to leave it alone, and now, with Zoro lying on top of him, he felt guilt gnawing away at his heart.

-

“Hey,” Sanji said some time later.

Zoro took time to answer, his breath coming out in a short puff against Sanji’s bare skin. “Yeah?” he said groggily.

“Did you fall back asleep?” Sanji asked.

Zoro groaned, rolling off Sanji and onto his back. He stared up at the ceiling. Sanji rolled onto his side and laid his elbow on the pillow, propping himself up and cradling his head in his hand while he awaited Zoro’s response. “I think I did,” Zoro said.

Sanji smiled. He stared at Zoro, struck by a moment of clarity as the realization that this life, going to sleep with Zoro and waking up next to him each morning, was actually his. Zoro looked at him and caught him staring. He smirked. “Enjoying the view, Curly?”

“Maybe,” Sanji drawled. “You are pretty easy on the eyes, Marimo. Bedhead notwithstanding.”

Zoro rolled his eye at Sanji as he held open his arm invitingly. “Well, what are you waiting for?” he asked when Sanji didn’t move closer. “Come here already.”

Sanji obliged, laying his head on the junction between Zoro’s shoulder and his chest. Inhaling slowly, Sanji loosely wrapped his arm along Zoro’s stomach, enjoying the quiet stillness of their bedroom on this day off work. Idly rubbing his leg against Zoro’s, Sanji reflected over his decision to close the restaurant one day a week when Zoro had asked him about it. Not only did the rest of the men enjoy the free time, but it gave Sanji and Zoro peace and quiet all to themselves. It may have upset some of their clientele, and Zeff had given him some grief over it, but if it made Zoro happy, then Sanji would gladly deal with a few complaints.

Zoro had his arm around Sanji, rubbing the pad of his thumb against his shoulder. Several minutes passed before Zoro spoke again, and the hesitance in his voice made Sanji pay close attention. “Cook...”

“Yeah?”

“There’s something I’ve been wanting to ask you.”

“What is it?”

“What would you say if I told you that Luffy wants to take me with him, Usopp, and Nami on a trip?”

Sanji blinked. They’d spent days, even weeks, apart back when they were searching for the One Piece, including those two years the whole crew had spent apart. In theory, Sanji had no reason to hesitate before answering. But it had been a year since he’d taken Zoro onto the Baratie with him, and they hadn’t spent a night apart since. Sanji had become accustomed to starting and ending his days with Zoro by his side. He found the idea of something disrupting his routine to be daunting.

But he did not voice these thoughts. Instead he said, “How long were you thinking?”

“A few weeks,” Zoro responded. Sanji swallowed. “Maybe a month?”

“Why so long?” Sanji asked.

Sanji felt Zoro shrug. “You can ask Luffy that,” he said. “Something about visiting a few islands before heading back.”

“I see,” Sanji said quietly.

“You didn’t tell me what you think,” Zoro said, his thumb coming to a stop.

Sanji closed his eyes, his thoughts turning to how quiet Zoro had become when Sanji had shot down the idea of the two of them going on a trip together. It wouldn’t kill him to allow Zoro to have some fun with their friends. “I think,” he said, “that I’m going to have to prepare your and the others’ favorite meals before you go.”

-

“All right!” Nami said brightly, looking Zoro up and down. “Got everything you need, Zoro? We’re not turning back once we leave.”

“I made sure he does, Nami-san,” Sanji spoke for Zoro, winking at Nami.

Nami smiled at Sanji, nodding at him. “I know you did, Sanji-kun,” she said, demonstrating her faith in him by turning her attention to the map in her hands as she and the others made the final preparations before they boarded Sunny with Zoro.

Watching her go over the map of the islands she and the others intended on visiting, Sanji felt himself longing for the simplicity of the life he’d shared with his crew. He felt his heart filling up with nostalgia for the days when he and his friends could explore strange islands together, days when they could gather around the same table together and share stories and food. They still occasionally saw each other, but when their crew was scattered around the world, it was difficult to get everyone together at the same time.

Taking a drag from his cigarette, Sanji looked at four of the most important people in his life, and he felt the pull of adventure tugging on his heartstrings.

But he could feel the weight of Baratie and its responsibility all around him.

So Sanji exhaled smoke from his lungs and walked up to Zoro, who had Luffy wrapped around his torso. He held his cigarette between two fingers with one hand and he grabbed Zoro’s face with the other. He pulled him in for a long goodbye kiss, Luffy’s voice in his ear as his former captain tried to convince him to come with them.

-

It was quiet as Sanji got ready for bed. It was often quiet when he and Zoro got ready for bed together, as Zoro was not a loquacious person to begin with, and both had long ago learned to share an easy silence with each other, but this was an empty quiet that Sanji was now unused to.

Sanji stared at his reflection in the mirror as he brushed his teeth, his eyes blank and his jaw stiff, his movements mechanical. He looked at the unoccupied space next to him in the mirror, the beginning of a story about an entitled customer waiting to spring forward from his mouth. If Zoro were with him, Sanji would have pulled his toothbrush out of his mouth and, mouth full of foam, started telling him about his encounter with a customer that had insisted on being served a meal that currently wasn’t on the menu. And Zoro would have listened until Sanji popped his brush back into his mouth to finish brushing his teeth. Zoro, in that straight to the point way of his, would have asked him, “So did you kick his ass?”

Air escaped Sanji’s nose in a small burst of amusement at the thought. He pointed his eyes down toward the sink and spat out the toothpaste, wondering if Zoro was keeping up with the nighttime routine they’d established, and therefore brushing his teeth at the same time as Sanji. Rinsing out his mouth, Sanji could feel the weeks without Zoro stretching out before him, opening a chasm between the two of them.

-

Sanji had intended on waiting at least a week before picking up the Transponder Snail to call Zoro. He wanted to give Zoro time to himself with their friends, but also wanted to prove to himself that he wasn’t so needy that he couldn’t last a week without hearing Zoro’s voice. After all, Sanji thought as he chopped carrots for the stew he was working on, he’d gone longer without talking to Zoro. Surely Sanji wasn’t that needy, that clingy. Surely he had enough going on with the restaurant to keep him preoccupied. Maybe Zoro would end up calling him first.

But Sanji felt his restlessness steadily rising within him as the days passed. Work was as hectic and demanding as ever, and one of Sanji’s primary releases—taking a break in his office with Zoro—was gone, leaving Sanji trembling with an undercurrent of frustration and pent up aggression throughout the day. He’d tried channeling it into work, tried dealing with it on his own in his and Zoro’s room, and he tried calming his nerves by chain smoking like there was a secret prize at the end of each cigarette, all to no avail.

It was when he tried picking a fight with Carne and Patty that he finally gave in. 

Sanji, at the end of his patience, goaded the longtime staff members into a fight that they could not possibly win. Carne and Patty, to their credit, fought back as valiantly as they could, but they were no match for Sanji. They knew this. Sanji knew. Zeff, who’d been watching from a corner, knew this. 

Zeff had given Sanji one look and jutted his chin toward his former office, silently insisting that they talk. And suddenly Sanji was ten years old again, following Zeff until he came to his senses and took a few quick strides to catch up to Zeff and then move past him on the way to Sanji’s office.

Behind the closed door, Zeff simply told Sanji, “Get your affairs in order, Eggplant. You have no reason to bark at your men like that when they’ve done nothing wrong.”

Sanji had bristled at Zeff and told him to mind his own business, telling him, “Oh, you’re one to talk about lashing out at people when they don’t deserve it!” Privately he knew Zeff was right. However, instead of telling him so, Sanji engaged Zeff in a screaming match until their argument had petered out into little more than red faces and heavy breathing. Zeff had skulked out of the office, remaining silent for the rest of the day. Sanji had come out a short time later, angrily adjusting his tie, daring any one of the chefs in the kitchen to look his way.

Everyone in the kitchen, save Zeff and Sanji, kept their heads down as they worked on their individual tasks, the air thick with tension and their collective unease.

Sanji, walking stiffly back to his station, heard one chef mutter to another, “I miss Zoro.”

Sanji deflated a little at hearing that. Clenching his teeth, Sanji pointedly kept his eyes down as he worked, thinking, I miss Zoro, too.

He called Zoro later that evening.

-

“Cook?”

Sanji smiled at the sound of Zoro’s tinny voice on the other end of the receiver. He’d never heard a more beautiful sound in his life. “Hi, Marimo,” he said, reclining on their bed. “How’s the ‘adventure’ going?”

“Pretty tame,” Zoro said. “I was just thinking about how much more dangerous East Blue seemed back when we were all starting out. Now it feels downright peaceful.”

Sanji chuckled. Zoro’s assessment of the sea they called home brought back memories of how young they’d been when they’d all started sailing together, back when the odd Sea King was their biggest threat. They really had no clue what they were getting into back then. “How’s Luffy?” he asked.

“He’s having a blast,” Zoro said. “I think all he cares about is getting to sail with his friends again.”

The longing to be out on the open sea with his friends again awakened in Sanji, manifesting itself as a weight in his chest. He imagined himself on Sunny again, preparing lunch for them while Luffy and Usopp fished, Zoro napped in the sun or polished his swords, and Nami read in a lounge chair.

“That’s good,” Sanji said. He lay on his side, grasping the receiver in one hand. He comfortably draped his arm along his middle and drew his knees up slightly, imagining Zoro lying in bed behind him and spooning him, rather than talking to him on a Transponder Snail on another ship. “And you? How are you, Zoro? Not missing me too much, are you?”

“Missing you a regular amount,” Zoro said cheekily. The Snail, on its perch on the bedside table next to Sanji, mimicked the relaxed smile Zoro would wear while enjoying Sanji’s company. The only thing better than seeing the Snail replicate his love’s smile would be to see that smile in person.

“So you do miss me,” Sanji teased.

“Course I do,” Zoro said. “You know I do. Why wouldn’t I?”

“I know,” Sanji said. He imagined Zoro wrapping an arm around him, right under Sanji’s own. “It’s just nice to hear you say it.”

“I miss you, Cook,” Zoro said for Sanji’s benefit, and it made Sanji melt.

“I miss you, too,” Sanji said softly, hoping the Snail had picked up his voice.

“And what about you, Cook?” Zoro said. “You wanna tell me what happened today?”

Sanji frowned as he thought back to the fight he’d started with Patty and Carne, then the argument he’d had with Zeff. He shrugged into the open air, wondering if the Snail on Zoro’s end was currently mimicking his movements. “Nothing to report. Everything’s the same as usual around here. The men miss you.”

Zoro laughed. “You’re not being too hard on them without me around to help you...ah...relieve your stress, are you?”

Sanji grimaced, covering his face in shame. “Nope,” he said, his voice slightly strained. He made himself yawn, pretending he’d suddenly been overtaken by exhaustion. “Well, I’m pretty tired. I’ll talk to you later, Zoro.”

“Oh,” Zoro said. “Okay. G’night, Cook.”

“Night, Marimo,” Sanji said. “Love you.”

Sanji ended the call before Zoro could respond.

-

While Sanji slowly adjusted to spending his nights alone, it was in the quiet, stolen moments that he most missed Zoro. Finding a patch of sunlight, perfect for napping; stepping out for a smoke when the lunch rush had finished, picturing himself reaching his hand out and threading his fingers through Zoro’s; stepping into his office for a moment of solitude and picturing Zoro sitting at the window seat, inviting Sanji to sit with him.

Sanji decided to go for walk along Baratie’s deck before turning in for the night. He looked up at the moon and brought his cigarette to his lips, his mind on his and Zoro’s conversation earlier that night.

“When do you think you’ll be coming home?”

“Well, I think Nami’s had enough. Luffy’s begged her to let us visit one last island, and then we can go home. So as soon as we’re done with the next one, we’ll be heading home.”

Sanji inhaled deeply, trying to do the math in his head to figure out how much longer until he got to see Zoro again. Zoro and the others had been sailing for a couple of weeks now, but Sanji figured the trip back would be slightly faster since they wouldn’t be stopping at each island they came across. He only had to wait for just a little longer until he could have Zoro by his side again.

He stared up at the full moon, chuckling at himself for how ridiculous he was being. A month was nothing in the grand scheme of things, really. A month was speck of sand on the beach in the rest of his natural life. Just when had he become so soft? When he’d invited Zoro into his life, he supposed, and all the compromises and changes that entailed.

He let his gaze drift across the sky, taking in the map of constellations as familiar to him as the skin on the back of his hand. Was this how Zoro had felt? This yearning for more, this desire to spend more time with someone inaccessible to him? Sanji hoped that he didn’t make Zoro feel as lonely as he currently felt, hoped that the time they did spend together was better than total solitude, but a picture of what Zoro must have felt was beginning to form in Sanji’s head.

Sanji frowned, gaze falling until it landed on the sea. Remorse seized hold of his heart as he remembered all the small ways Zoro had sought Sanji’s touch in recent months, as if trying to squeeze out every last drop of quality time with Sanji in the fleeting minutes that they had. Just a little of Sanji’s time, that was all that Zoro asked of him. A week, at least, to visit a nearby village and spend some quality time together. Was that really so much to ask for? Sanji no longer thought so.

He thought of leaving the restaurant alone for a week. He could let Zeff watch over things, just like he had for so many years, but Sanji still didn’t like the idea of asking him to take over for him just so he could run away with Zoro for a short time. Running a restaurant was hard work and Zeff had more than earned his rest. So that either left one of the chefs onboard or looking for someone new. Sanji was hard on the men, but he knew any one of them was skilled enough to work as head chef, so long as they put in the work. It was just a matter of finding a man with the right personality.

Sanji would tell Zoro this when he saw him again. The idea of finally relinquishing some of his many responsibilities and letting someone else help out was strange, but Sanji had already alienated Zoro to the point of running off on a month long adventure with their captain. He didn’t want to end up losing him. He’d already lost Zoro once and he wasn’t going to let that happen again.

-

Sanji jumped on Zoro the moment he stepped foot on Baratie’s deck, tightly wrapping his four limbs around him. One hundred men couldn’t remove Sanji from Zoro if they tried.

Zoro took this in stride, supporting Sanji by the thighs. “Hi, Cook,” he managed to say before Sanji started kissing him.

Luffy hooted somewhere behind Zoro, shouting, “Sanji missed Zoro!”

Aware they had an audience, Sanji pulled back, but he grinned at Zoro, whispering, “Guess you should let me down now.”

Zoro laughed softly, his eye crinkling at the corner in a way that made Sanji’s heart melt into a puddle of mush. “I guess so,” he said, setting Sanji down.

Slipping an arm around Zoro, Sanji called to Luffy, Usopp, and Nami, inviting them onto Baratie for a meal to welcome them all back.

-

Pleasantly exhausted, Sanji relaxed into Zoro’s arms. Content smile etched into his face, Sanji breathed in Zoro’s scent, felt the heat of Zoro’s skin against his cheek. All was right with the world. Zoro lay there in bed with him, happy to share this moment with Sanji.

Sanji laid his hand on Zoro’s abdomen, relishing the solid feel of Zoro’s body beneath his touch. “I missed you,” he whispered.

“Missed you, too, Curly.”

“I don’t think you know how much I missed you, though,” Sanji continued.

“I dunno,” Zoro said, “you just gave me a pretty good idea of how much you missed me.”

Sanji paused before responding, frowning. “I’m serious, you know.”

“Mm?”

“Yeah,” Sanji said. “I...had a lot of time to think while you were gone.”

“That so?”

Sanji nodded against Zoro’s chest. “Yeah, it is. And I think... I think you were right.”

“About what?” Zoro asked.

“It wouldn’t kill me to take a vacation.”

Zoro paused at Sanji’s admission. “Yeah?” he said, his voice soft with uncertainty.

Sanji wrapped his arm around Zoro’s torso, gently squeezing. They hadn’t talked about it in so long, but he remembered that nightmarish time when Zoro was convinced that Sanji didn’t value their relationship. It made his heart ache to think that he could potentially make Zoro feel that way again. “Yeah,” he said.

He continued, “I mean, I still don’t want to dump this all on Zeff. But I really gave it some thought, and it wouldn’t hurt me to have someone who can step up for me when I’m not around. Maybe even make the workload a little easier on me. I don’t know, the idea of it is still so new to me. But I want to make you happy. And if that means I need to find someone who can watch over the restaurant while you and I take a small trip together, then I’ll do it.”

Zoro tightened his hold on Sanji, saying nothing. Sanji returned his embrace with the same fervor, smiling against Zoro’s chest.

“It’s really not too much trouble, is it?” Zoro eventually asked.

“It really isn’t,” Sanji responded. He lifted his head off Zoro’s chest so he could properly look at him. “And I’m sorry for making you think that it was.”

“Come here,” Zoro whispered, having nothing else to say.

And Sanji did, closing the gap between their mouths.

[booppooo]

Body Guard: Chapter Three

Abby Anderson x Fem! Reader Series

AN: I hope this series isn't too boring, I sort of want it to be a slow burn so it's gonna take a sec for things to pick up, nonetheless I hope you guys are liking it!

Warnings: fighting, murder, gore, blood, injury, yelling, swearing

Word Count: 2268

-

June 12th, 27 hours remaining

Y/n had been able to scrounge up some aged snacks left in vending machines. It was beginning to dawn on her how careless it was abandoning Abby considering she was the muscle and also her source of clean water and food. To top it off, Y/n was exhausted from all the traveling.

Now she was struggling to open a door that seemed the only passage to progress forward. The surgeon was weak and thirsty only making her goal to push past the door that much more challenging. From what she could see, it looked like a massive shelf had barricaded it, all she could imagine was Abby snickering and pushing the door open with ease.

With a long sigh, Y/n prepared herself to ram her body into the metal door. She shook out her arms, cracked her neck and jogged in place before bracing herself and throwing herself into metal. Though the initial impact was painful and made her shoulder throb, the sound of the shelf crashing on the floor was incredibly rewarding.

"Look who's laughing now." she smirked, finally stepping into the next room.

Greeting her was several more shelves scattered with books and some broken beyond repair. She would love to spend a few moments scanning through them and tucking some away for later, but she had a mission to accomplish, a man to save.

Another rusted metal door led to the outside, the sun shining through its small glass window and faintly illuminating the room. Next to it a familiar growth of fungus indicating infected had once grew here. Without much consideration, Y/n tugged on the door revealing the outside and its fresh greenery and blue skies. She took in a deep breath and let the door shut behind her, extremely proud of herself for making it through yet another building.

Before she stepped into the grass, she shot a quick look behind her, noticing how the door never officially clicked shut. Her instincts had been right, because squeezing through the small gap in the door was a stalker. Once they caught sight of one another, they both shrieked and Y/n found herself scrambling around in her sock.

The stalker got through the gap and lunged at Y/n swinging and grabbing at her. The blade of her knife clicked and she began aimlessly swinging at the infected, too afraid to make a lethal jab. She slashed and sliced but it did little to nothing against its resilient strength and determination to have her for breakfast. It threw a mighty swing at her jaw and stunned her enough to grapple her to the ground.

"No! Get off of me!" Y/n cried out, fighting with all her might to rid herself of the stalker.

The knife was slapped from the physician's hand and now out of reach leaving her virtually defenseless. She squirmed and screamed beneath the zombie, rolling her head out of doge when it came down for a bite. Since Y/n wasn't trained in combat, she didn't know what her next move would be, she had no idea how to maneuver herself from it's grasp and how to fight it off. The pistol in her pack mockingly pressed against her back and made her realize she wasn't getting out of this alive.

Not only has Y/n failed Isaac and Abby, but herself. She wasn't even leaving this world in a heroic, doctoral fashion, she was just getting bit and then eaten alive. The only thing saving her was a miracle.

Or her feet which had managed to squirm in the perfect position to launch the danger hovering above her.

-

Abby ground her teeth together with a growl as an arrow pierced her shoulder. This wasn't her first rodeo with the Scars, and certainly not her first arrow through the shoulder, but this was taking far longer than normal. More whistles surrounded Abby as she shuffled into the brush and pulled the arrow from her muscle. She gave one last tug and hissed, her blood seeping through her jacket as her heart hammered and her skin numbed.

"Enough of this shit."

The soldier rose to her feet from the growth and began firing at the men and women in robes. As each bullet left her rifle her shoulder jerked back with agony, only fueling her anger for the religious cult. A few bullets and arrows flew by her, barely nicking her skin and clothing but still too close for her liking. She resorted to the sturdy pipe hanging from her pack and eliminated the last few Scars with powerful swings. The final man had been hit to the ground, the metal breaking over his hip.

"Please, no.." he breathed, cowering behind his hands.

Abby tightened her fists and glared down at the bald man. Her boot collided with his ribs, knocking him to the ground, and before he could say his final plea, his skull was crushed into the soil.

Now that the battle had been won, Abby's adrenaline was withering away and the stinging of her wound had her and groaning. But this was but a small bump in the road, so she pressed forward now more determined to find Y/n to give her a piece of her mind.

The soldier jogged along the geography of Seattle looking for even the smallest sign that the doctor had been about. She searched for broken windows, wide open doors, and even trails of blood; no matter what state she was in, she had to be found.

Abby rounded a corner to an overgrown building and was shoved back onto the ground. Her back hit the grass with a solid thud and next to her a stalker scrambled to its feet and began to sprint past her. Then her eyes caught sight of Y/n on her feet and digging around in her pack, the stalker approaching her fast. The blonde was on her feet in an instant and racing toward the infected, reaching it just in time to tackle it against the wall. With all the might left in her injured shoulder, she smashed the stalkers head into the wall, her hand covered in mush and blood.

"Abby! Oh Abby!" Y/n flung herself onto her protector and greeted her with a tight embrace.

Abby hissed as her shoulder seared with pain which signaled Y/n's small hop off of her. The doctor spotted the dyed jacked and gasped.

"Quick, get that off, we have to-" she began tugging at Abby's zipper.

She shoved Y/n away, "Get off of me!"

The physician pressed her brows together, "Abby I need to-"

"You listen to me. For the rest of this damned mission you're going to follow me and keep your mouth shut. If you run off one more time I'm not coming back for your sorry ass." if it were possible, smoke would be billowing from her perky ears, "and don't touch me."

Y/n blinked, her lips parted to speak but no witty remark left them.

"Let's go." Abby growled.

Y/n had so much to say, but knew it was best to keep to herself. The last on her to-do list was to make Abby's head explode. Their relationship (or lack there-of) was already difficult, and now Abby had every reason no to like her. Before their journey begun Y/n wanted to create somewhat of a friendship to ease the tension between them, but had only managed to create distance.

Abby wasn't entirely sure how long Y/n would keep quiet considering her talkative track record. But she was sure Y/n was one wrong comment away from being left for dead. Their time was running out, and every second was precious. For this reason Abby didn't stop to stitch up her shoulder, just simply slipped off her jacket and pulled out the supplies from her pack. Luckily the arrow hadn't penetrated through her back leaving her with fewer uncomfortable stitches.

Though Y/n wish she did considering her profession, she didn't need x-ray vision to see how negligent Abby was sewing herself. She bit her nails harder each time Abby's back tightened from her stitching, but kept her comments and overwhelming urge to help suppressed.

Y/n couldn't help to believe this was her fault. If not for her carelessness Abby wouldn't have had to search for her and get hurt by whatever crossed her path, nor would she have to snap on her and remind her how little the chances of their friendship becoming a reality were. Abby was right, she just needed to stay quiet and follow her.

[by-nina]

Exchange

Artwork by @caesurables​​; do not repost.

AO3 | FFN Royai Week 2021 | Day 1 – King’s gambit/Queen’s gambit Rating: M (light drinking, sexual content) Genre: Lemon Word Count: 3,230

A/N: Happy Royai Week, everyone! Welcome to the spiciest thing I've written so far, which marks the first time I'm starting Royai Week with smut. I hope this feeds you well. Special shoutout to Mica for adding life to this with the gorgeous art! 😍

Something stirs in her; on one hand, it would be easy to call it yearning. But on the other, nothing that concerns Roy Mustang has ever been easy. Riza has always equated these things with methodical moves and calculated risks.

And so, for once, Riza pictures herself playing her game not for Roy’s sake, but for hers. She imagines that the stakes are different, the rules may be broken, and the only person she has ever wanted is both her gamble and her prize. She could have it all now—she need only play her piece.

———

Roy Mustang was made for a night like this. Handsome, stylish dress uniform, hair slicked back like a frame around his striking facial features, an air of dignity in his walk, his posture, even his gaze. He wears it all so well that he stands out from older, more distinguished company in the East City Hotel, where tonight, the Eastern Army is holding an extravagant ball in recognition of its recently promoted officers.

Riza is present as well, of course. For the occasion, she has traded her usual military attire for a blue satin gown with a flatteringly slender silhouette. A sash pinned with the insignia of her rank hangs from her shoulder to her hip. Having gone up the stage much earlier in the program for her own recognition, she has now retreated to the far end of the room, from where she’s got a full view of Roy as he waits to be called in front of the crowd.

Her promotion from Second to First Lieutenant is nowhere near as significant as his becoming Colonel, but it is no less her night than his. Selfish though the thought may be, it’s true that Roy owes this night to her, every title and every honor conferred to him. In every aspect of his life, she has made a crucial choice that allowed him to take a step in the right direction towards their goals—his goals that she has chosen to make her own.

“For the rank of Colonel, Roy Mustang…”

It was Riza’s choice to join him in the military, and it was this choice that has kept him on his path and his eyes on these goals. She has been devoted to his success just as much as to her act of atonement, but she was not subservient to either. Roy also carries with him the burden of their sins in Ishval. Her responsibility over his atonement means that she has more power than a subordinate would normally have under their superior. Anyone could be a dutiful subordinate or competent bodyguard, after all, but only she could be trusted with his life as well as his death.

“… the formidable Flame Alchemist…”

And it was her choice to reveal the secrets of flame alchemy, entrusted to her by her father, that first set him on the path towards his goals for the people and the country in the first place. Had she not trusted him, Roy would have searched further and longer for some other practice of alchemy. Had Riza chosen to die with her father’s secrets, Roy might not have come anywhere near who he is now.

“… and Hero of Ishval.”

Every choice she has made in their intertwined lives has determined the course of his, even when he should have been none of her concern. This was especially true in Ishval. She could have pulled the trigger at any time when she despised him most. She could have reversed the choice that brought him to Ishval. Riza chose instead to be an ally—a friend in a war where every other sense of humanity seemed to have been lost.

The Hero of Ishval was made through her actions; as was the Flame Alchemist; as was this shiny new Colonel Roy Mustang. As he is introduced by Lieutenant General Grumman, he takes his place at the center of the ballroom stage, and his titles and promotion seem all the more impressive due to the fact that he is the only new Colonel being recognized tonight. The crowd erupts in a reverent applause which Riza does not join in.

In different circumstances, if it weren’t for the very cards they have been dealt, tonight could have truly been happy, a cause for celebration. But their plans continue forming and unfolding; this game on which they have staked their lives does not pause. And so Riza watches him as she drinks her champagne, quietly imagining the steps they ought to take next, the moves they must plan, the sacrifices she must make in this gambit where she is both player and piece and he is the king set to take it all.

Her life is a game which she plays for Roy Mustang to win.

When his moment passes and the ceremony moves on, Roy descends from the stage, searching through the crowd for Riza. He finds her and meets her gaze across the room, and for a moment she wavers in her train of thought. She is familiar with this feeling. She has felt its pull before, but never this strongly, never with enough clarity so as to explicitly name him its object. How could she possibly feel it towards someone for whose sake she has forgotten her own needs and her own desires? How could she not be indifferent instead?

Riza leaves her champagne on a nearby table and turns in the opposite direction to walk off its effects. The party thankfully offers plenty enough distraction from the drink and from Roy. She meets a few colleagues here and there, makes small talk, and when she loses sight of Roy, she’s certain that he has been intercepted by people wishing to congratulate him or rub elbows with him for his prodigious rise through the ranks. She soon manages to extricate herself from the crowd and disappear from the ballroom.

———

“You should be celebrating tonight, Lieutenant.”

Riza knows that Roy has found her before he even speaks. She didn’t think that he would. She had wandered around the hotel until she found herself in distant, unfamiliar hallways decorated with beautiful artwork that she could admire until her intoxication had worn off enough to safely drive home. But there is no mistaking the sound of his footsteps or the scent of his perfume tinged with the liquor from the party. Part of her wants to disappear again, but his proximity in an otherwise deserted place seems to further slow down her currently unreliable reflexes.

Riza smiles dryly. “Does it matter if we received our actual promotions a week ago? We all know this is just an excuse to flatter ourselves and have a good time without spending our own money.” Roy smirks as she shakes her head. “Either way, I think I'll enjoy the party much better here, away from the crowd. But you're everyone's darling for the evening. They'll be wanting you back."

Roy sighs and rubs the side of his head, as if the very thought tires him. "I see enough of them at work. And there's going to be more of them around now, especially when we get transferred to Central. This night isn't about them."

The mention of Central causes Riza to bristle with alertness. She whips her head around to ascertain that the hallway is deserted. Behind her, she finds an intricately carved double door, and she quickly strides across the hallway to it. To her surprise, it is unlocked; the room beyond it appears to be dark and deserted. Riza shoots a glance at Roy as she enters. He swiftly follows.

Riza spots a nearby floor lamp just before she locks the door. For a moment, the room is pitch black, then Riza switches on the lamp. Its warm glow is just enough for her to make out Roy’s face and the silhouettes of the furniture in the room. They seem to have found themselves in a lavish parlour with a high-backed sofa and matching armchairs, a handsome tea table for two, a fireplace carved from white marble, and a vintage piano.

“I see you’re already making plans for proceeding to Central,” Riza begins. “We should be more careful about discussing them from now on, Colonel. Everyone has their eyes on you.”

Roy stares at her questioningly. Then, a small laugh breaks through his expression, and he shakes his head. “I’m not. I didn’t come looking for you to talk about our plans.”

She frowns. “What is it, then?”

“It’s just like I said. You should be celebrating tonight.” He draws what sounds like both a nervous breath and a laugh. “It wouldn’t have been right to enjoy the party without you. You’re the reason we’ve both come this far.” He pauses, and then his voice turns softer than before. There is no trace of a smile left in it or on his face. “I know you know that, Lieutenant.”

In the soft light, Roy’s face appears flushed, his features softer than they were when she watched him back at the ballroom. Riza doesn’t realize just how close he is until the scent of champagne on her is lost to his raspberry wine. Something stirs in her; on one hand, it would be easy to call it yearning. But on the other, nothing that concerns Roy Mustang has ever been easy. Riza has always equated these things with methodical moves and calculated risks.

And so, for once, Riza pictures herself playing her game not for Roy’s sake, but for hers. She imagines that the stakes are different, the rules may be broken, and the only person she has ever wanted is both her gamble and her prize. She could have it all now—she need only play her piece.

But never in any of their plans or her own did she consider this a possible outcome, that Roy Mustang would be kissing her with one gentle hand on her face and another on her waist, or that the warmth of his body could be such a welcome comfort. He kisses her as if he has known for a long time just how closely he would need to lean in, how to tilt his head to the correct angle so that the curve of his lips would fit perfectly with hers. Riza senses this not because of unrestrained passion—on the contrary, Roy is perfectly still. The kiss is tender, but the rest of him is tense, as if it’s the only thing holding him together now. Or as if it’s the only thing he has held out for all this time.

Roy breaks away from her slowly, and it’s Riza whose heart is thundering in her chest. Perhaps, had the game been hers alone to play, it wouldn’t have led them so far so soon. Had it been she to approach him first, they might have only teetered over their fragile lines and not fully crossed to a point of no return. But Roy has taken her by surprise where the playing field has always seemed to be even between them. This, she cannot accept—she has never made a gamble that she did not see through. This will not change now.

She will play her game on her own terms.

Riza flings her arms over Roy’s shoulders as she kisses him, one hand running through his hair and undoing it back to the style she knows and likes best on him. It makes her want more—thank heavens that he realizes it right away. He responds so ardently that they stumble, so he steers her until she falls back against the piano and dissonant notes blare over their sighs. His hand runs down her side, over her hip and into the slit of her blue dress, where he reaches under her thigh and lifts it up against his leg.

But Riza refuses to give in so easily. She trails her hand down his front, all the way down to where he has started to turn hard. A gasp escapes him when she wraps her fingers around his erection and tugs at it. It gives her an opportunity to push back and reverse their positions so he is seated on the piano—it clangs unpleasantly again—and she is leaning over him as she makes short work of his jacket and his shirt to kiss his chest. The further down Riza drags her lips, the less familiar she is with the territory she is exploring, but she goes on until she brushes against that warm, rough outline. Riza tugs his trousers down, and when he springs free of his clothing, she takes Roy into her mouth.

He is exactly how she wants him right now, inelegant and vulnerable with his head hanging all the way back. Riza starts off slowly, but she is eager to figure out whether she can get him to unravel more quickly with her lips running back and forth along the length of him, or with her fingers massaging the base which her mouth cannot reach. His pleasure seems to build unhurriedly until she twists her tongue around, making him throb and moan quaveringly. She becomes hungry to hear more of him and picks up the pace, never mind that the effort is choking her. Roy grips her hair until it falls out of its pins, ultimately coming loose down her back. She goes, and goes, and she thinks he might be close, but then—

But then Roy pulls her up so he could kiss her, and Riza sighs in pleasure, and it isn’t enough for her just to watch him unravel anymore. She falls into him in a blissful, drunken haze, allowing him to kiss and caress her and unzip her dress. She could burst into flames at every part of her that he touches, even the scars that he had left on her back when their game was at its deadliest. He begins rubbing her between her legs, and there it hardly matters whether his touch flutters over her skin like candlelight or pushes as suddenly as lightning—the sensation just builds and builds, like a storm stirring up the sea.

How could he know so well what to do with her, how to give her just enough and yet leave her wanting more without ever having explored her this way before? The question is quickly lost in Riza’s mind as he finds other ways to arouse her. Now, he’s pulling the top of her dress down, switching positions with her again, alternating between kissing her lips and her breasts. It’s easy to follow him where he goes when he’s leading her through a dazzling trance, easier than it has ever been to follow him in any other way.

The storm slows only once as Roy’s lips brush against her ear with a stammering plea. “Do you want me to—can I keep going?”

Riza hardly recognizes the sound of her own voice when she gasps, “Please.”

Slowly, carefully, he enters her, with her dress hiked up above her hips. Despite the mild ache that comes with it at first, it feels better than anything she could have planned or imagined. Riza is shaking now. She buries her face in Roy’s neck and moans there, where only he can hear her, and she feels his excitement growing at the sound of it. He begins to thrust into her—clang, clang, clang, goes the piano—first at an even pace, which helps ease away her initial discomfort. When the tension disappears from her shoulders, she finds herself swaying against him hungrily. He varies from going exhilaratingly fast to tantalizingly slow—clang, clang, clang!—and at some point, she whimpers—

“Roy—"

It seems to awaken something feral in him. Everything he does with her is greedy now, from his kisses running clumsily from her neck to her lips and back, to his hands grabbing at every part of her that he can reach—and although she likes him like this, unhinged and at the same time in complete control, it makes her want to give him more than she is getting.

Riza pushes herself off the piano and into Roy, and he is more than willing to let her drive him down to the floor. There, she pulls at his hair as she kisses him, then shifts slightly so he can kiss her chest while she slowly sinks down and allows him back into her. Their rhythm is easier to find this time. She starts off at a pace that builds up the heat in her body just right, then later allows his hands and hips to guide her with more fervor and intent. Soon, the pleasure is just too close for her to wait any longer, and they are both overcome with an aching desperation—

“Roy”—she pleads, groans—“oh—"

“Riza—ahh—fuck—”

 “Don’t stop, don’t stop—"

Roy climbs over her, snaking his arms around her to grab at her chest, and he enters her from behind without breaking their rhythm, thrusting vigorously until and throughout her release. The rush, the bliss, the high is simply unthinkable—Riza presses her forehead down and bites her own hand hard to keep herself from screaming. She sinks into an ungraceful sprawl on the floor, drenched in sweat and tremors and Roy’s weight all over her body, but also as feeling if she were made purely of her sensations, with no physical body at all.

A moment passes, or two, or an eternity before she turns to lie on her back. Roy has collapsed next to her and entangled with her, so he adjusts to make way for her. She then finds herself looking up at him; Roy is leaning over her, seeming like an entirely different person with his gentle gaze, his tousled hair, his clothes only barely clinging to his body. His clothes—a reminder of who he is, and therefore, the gravity of what they have just done.

The high subsides almost as quickly as it came over her.

The room is piercingly silent as they scramble back to their feet and several meters away from each other. They keep their backs turned as they smooth their clothes back onto themselves and comb their hair into some normal, unquestionable style. Riza’s senses settle back into rationality at last. This was not a different way to play their old game. This was a temporary escape, a rare exception to her life’s unwavering rules.

“Riza.”

It’s unsettling how he says her name as if it were what he normally calls her, so she does not respond. Surely, he understands that what has just transpired between them must remain in the past, in favor of the reality that they left outside the door. Surely, he knows as well as she does that that reality has already resumed before they have even left the room.

He calls her name again. Riza, again, refuses to acknowledge him.

“Lieutenant.”

Her resolve wavers for only a moment. Riza knows exactly what he is doing. She knows her own excuse for this lapse in judgment—she knows how to keep it from happening ever again. But she can tell by his current insistence and his earlier passion that he doesn’t consider this a mistake like she does. This is, after all, exactly how he plays the game—head on, without hesitation. Roy has broken the rules more thoroughly than she has. He would have done so without her instigation. He has made perfectly clear the gamble that he is willing to make for her.

Riza turns, brushing past Roy and out of the room without so much as looking at him—leaving him behind the door, leaving as much of her selfish desires as she can possibly let go of—because she knows she must keep him from gambling everything away.

[trashmenofmarvel]

Branded - Chapter 57 (Final)

Pairing: Demon!Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: You find your relic.

(This is a fan AU of Falling’s Just Another Way to Fly by araniaart​ . Please check out this incredible series for all of your demon Bucky needs.)

AO3

You’d only been to the ancient Sanctum a few times, with strict access to the library for your studies and nowhere else, and normally you would be excited to visit the unofficial headquarters of the Mystic Arts.

But now, as you followed Wong to the room of portals that would lead to the Nepal sanctum, your stomach twisted and your heart raced. You couldn’t even enjoy the fact this was where Strange had gone on his near-disastrous pilgrimage. The idea of the Ancient One kicking him out on his ass was an entertaining one, though you were still glad she eventually trained him. As irritated as you were about a lot of things regarding the former surgeon, he and Wong both had taught you nearly everything you knew.

Plus, you’d seen the scars on his hands. As arrogant and egotistical as he appeared, Strange had suffered to get where he was. Not unlike yourself. Not unlike Bucky.

The Orb of Agamotto hung within the circular room where other sorcerers consulted with it, verifying that the magical Earthly shields were still intact. Past them were three doors leading to the other sanctums, including the one in Kathmandu.

You and Bucky followed Wong through, the familiar feeling of displacement shifting your stomach and throwing you off balance for a moment. Neither Wong nor Bucky were as unsteady as you were. It had been something you were embarrassed about, but according to Strange during one of your lessons, it simply meant you were more sensitive to spatial displacement.

As Wong led you both through the ancient stone hallways, past the commons where other sorcerers were in training, doubt crept along your nerves. Someday, possibly sooner than you were prepared, all of these people were going to follow you. Look to you for guidance, for teaching. For protection.

How were you supposed to become the next Ancient One if you couldn’t even walk through a portal without getting dizzy?

This wasn’t going to work. The idea was crazy enough to begin with. The Ancient One had to be wrong. You were going to step into her office and nothing would happen. You would make a fool of yourself; you weren’t any more talented or skilled than any other sorcerer. Just half a year ago, you’d had no idea demons and magic were even real.

And now, you were expected to carry on the mantle as one of the most powerful sorcerers on Earth? How was that even possible? How could you ever be worthy enough to—

Wong opened a door using a complicated series of hand gestures, and as soon as you stepped through, your panicked mind fell silent. Energy thrummed along your skin, setting the hairs upright.

“Here it is.”

Wong’s announcement was unnecessary; you would know this place in your dreams, even though you had never been.

It was a simple room with a single large, circular window pointed towards the mountains over the city. Potted plants perched on most available surfaces that weren’t covered with books, scrolls, and odd knickknacks.

There was only a single writing desk pushed to the side, humble and unobtrusive. The rest of the room was empty space with a single well-worn green rug in the middle. But the plants made everything seem alive and verdant. It felt very much like a place the Ancient One would spend her time. It was a reflection of her, in a way. Quiet, but hidden with secret truths.

“Take a look around,” Wong said, but you were already moving. Slowly and with intense focus, you circled the room, reaching out and feeling, not with your hands but with your mind.

Odd and powerful energy pervaded the room, muted by spells but still apparent to you. They were coming from the artifacts that were laid out, seemingly casually, on the shelves and desks.

Most of them seemed as plain and unimportant as the room itself. A cracked vase with the lip stained red. A golden helmet that was varnished and faded, but two glittering horns jutted from the temples. A knobby staff with a smooth, grey stone fixed at one end, as modest as any walking stick except for the melodic hum that emanated from the stone. You had a feeling neither Wong nor Bucky could hear it.

But despite all the weird, wonderful oddities in your reach, you were drawn elsewhere. You approached one corner of the room where lay a pile of old scrolls and their cloth wrappings, and moved them aside with care to reveal what was hidden underneath.

It was a sword hilt. Just the hilt. There was no blade, not even a piece of broken metal. The metal was dulled with time and flaked with rust, the pommel grey and dirty.

You reached out and hesitated. Fingertips inches away, something stopped you. The knowledge that once you took hold of the relic, everything would change.

You glanced over your shoulder at Bucky.

He was watching you with close attention, as was Wong, but when he caught your eye he gave a small smile of encouragement. He supported you, even though he had to know what this meant, or at least had a good idea of it.

Not every sorcerer found their relic within the Ancient One’s study.

Comfort and warmth, so strong it could only be described as love, flooded across the bond and washed away your fears. You returned his smile, even if it was shaky, and you held on to that feeling as you turned back to the hilt.

You closed the distance, wrapped your fingers around the relic, and lifted it.

It was surprisingly heavy; that was your only observation before it began. The hilt thrummed in your palm, vibrating so fast you nearly dropped it.

The rust flaked away from the metal, leaving it polished and silver. The grey pommel was shaken of its dirt, and you realized it was white bone, the metal wrapping around it to form the grip and crossguard.

The thrumming didn’t stop, but you couldn’t let go even if you wanted to. Your fingers seized around the metal, energy teeming up your hand and arm. When it reached your right shoulder, all the way up to your pentagram, the sigil burned in a way it hadn’t done since the ritual.

Bucky must have sensed your panic because he rushed forward, but you backed away from him fast, instinct screaming at you to put a safe distance between you now.

It was a good thing you had; the energy from your sigil exploded down your arm, through your hand, and into the hilt. A burst of red light shot outward, forcing you to turn away from the blinding beam.

When the light dimmed and you could see again, blinking away the after images, you stared at the sword. That’s what it was now. A glowing red blade, seemingly made entirely of light. The energy that came from it was purely of the demon realm, scorching and sulfuric.

“What…” You choked the words past your dry throat. “What is this?”

There were only a handful of times you’d ever seen Wong shocked. So, that was three powerful sorcerers you’d rendered speechless in the span of a day.

“The blade of Hell, or so it is spoken. None in the history of the order had been able to unlock its powers, rendering it anything more than a broken hilt.” He leveled you with a somber stare. “It is called Daemonio Vexatur. Which means—“

“—to become a demon.”

Wong raised a brow.

“Rough translation, but yes.”

“So, it’s a demon sword?” asked Bucky, eyeing the glowing blade. He was understandably wary, and honestly, was accepting what was happening better than you were. You were still stuck on the fact that you were holding a glowing-freaking-sword in your hand.

“Yes. And no,” Wong said in traditional teaching-fashion. “A demon cannot wield it, but it takes demonic energy to power.”

“Oh. So that’s why my sigil and my entire arm feel like they’re on fire.”

Bucky’s mouth opened and he took a step forward, protectiveness sizzling along the bond, and you gave him a hurried smile.

“Kidding. Sort of.” You smiled wider through your clenched teeth. “It is really uncomfortable.”

Bucky’s dark look told you he didn’t believe you, and with what you imagined was coming from your end of the bond, you didn’t blame him. Holding the sword was like holding on to a live wire that was also burning. There was a molten jolt connecting the hilt to your sigil, and you were just hoping to not get incinerated in the process.

And just like that, the connection was gone, and the relief of your arm no longer being on fire was dimmed by the disappointment as the sword was extinguished, leaving nothing more than a gleaming hilt.

“What happened?” You frowned, eyeing the relic as if searching for an on switch.

“It will take time and training to effectively control your relic.”

“How long?” You looked up when Wong didn’t answer immediately, catching the serious dent in his brow.

“It’s hard to say. No one in living memory has wielded the blade, and it was believed no one ever would.”

Wong gave a heavy sigh.

“So of course, you would be the one to wield it.”

You returned your gaze to the relic and turned over the hilt in your hand, admiring the metal and bone. You wondered if the bone was from a demon, a safe bet considering.

“So.” You carefully put down the hilt and turned to give Bucky your best serious face. “How does it feel to have a wizard girlfriend with a lightsaber?”

Wong rolled his eyes. He knew you well enough by now to know what you were doing, but he didn’t comment on your attempts to over your fear with humor. He muttered something about reporting to Strange as he left the office.

But Bucky…

Worry and fondness conflicted across the bond, struggling to coexist. He stepped forward, the green cloth tunic he’d found in one of the drawers of your room stretched unfairly tight across his chest. It was the largest he could find in a hurry, and it was nearly enough to distract you from your own anxieties.

“I think…” Bucky wrapped his arm around you, drawing you into an embrace that you melted into easily. “That I’m scared for you. I’m confused as hell what this means, and I’m guessing this isn’t going to make your life any easier or less complicated. But… I’m also proud of you.”

You could sense the pride easily, but Bucky was trying to bury the fear that was close to terror. He truly was scared of what this meant. You were too, and the Ancient One’s words weighed heavily on your shoulders.

There was a questioning feeling tugging at your thoughts, and you remembered too late that Bucky could sense the same anxiety, even if he didn’t have all the details. So you smoothed out your tumultuous thoughts and covered them the best way you knew how.

“You say that to all the wizard girlfriends.”

“You’re deflecting.”

“That is what swords do.”

Bucky pulled back far enough to stare at you with narrowed eyes, but when he touched his horns to yours it was with such gentleness that you nearly forgot to breathe. But breathe you did, drinking in his familiar, soothing scent and allowed the tension to drain from your muscle.

“We should head back.” Bucky said after a moment of intimate, comfortable silence in which you finally relaxed. “Got a bastard to catch.”

You reluctantly let go first, knowing he was right and you couldn’t stay here forever. Turning toward the sword hilt, you reached for it and paused. You took a small detour and picked up an old, ratty cloth nearby and carefully wrapped the relic within. Until you had a better grasp of how to wield the sword, it was probably a wiser idea to not handle it directly. You had no idea if it was sentient like Strange’s cloak, and it would be better not to accidentally set it off. Slicing off your own leg was a poor way to convince anyone that you were the next Ancient One.

On your journey back down the halls toward the portal door, Bucky said, “So… what are you going to name it?”

He smiled at your sideways glance.

“All cool swords get a name. It’s kind of a universal rule.”

Maybe you didn’t know Bucky as well as you thought you did, because you had no idea he was such a damn nerd.

“Yeah? You’ll have to bestow all your sword knowledge on me.”

“Is that a sexual innuendo?”

“It is now.”

Bucky’s smile died on his lips when you were no longer at his side. He paused and looked back where you had stopped at the threshold to the portal room.

“What if I can’t do this?” The doorway before you was no longer just a doorway. It was an insurmountable hurdle, and your feet wouldn’t budge from the floor. “What if I fail?”

Bucky approached slow and steady, his expression gentle and fond.

“You won’t. You’re too stubborn to fail.” A warm hand softly cupped your cheek, his human one, and you leaned into it. He laughed silently at your predictable need to be touched, but his expression faded into something more serious. “But on the very slim chance you do, then you get back up and you start again. Just as you always have.”

Your stomach fell. Bucky couldn’t understand what failure meant in your case. You didn’t even know what it meant, but you could guess. If you failed to be the Ancient One everyone needed… then there might not be any second chances.

Bucky wrapped you in his arms one more time, undoubtedly sensing his words of encouragement hadn’t hit as effectively as he’d wanted.

“Whatever this means, you finding that relic… Whatever happens when we find Zemo...” Bucky’s voice was deep in his chest, a rumbling sound that never failed to comfort you. “I’ll be here.”

You returned his embrace, gripping him tightly as you pressed your cheek against his chest.

“I know.”

And you did, too. Bucky would be there for you. Not because he was compelled to be, and not out of a sense of duty or guilt to protect you. He would be by your side by choice.

And that fact made Zemo’s escape, the Ancient One’s words, and your own self-doubt a little easier to bear. Because you and Bucky would weather it.

Together.

“When wounds are healed by love, the scars are beautiful.” –David Bowles

[kimoralov3]

That's Immortality, My Darling

Requested by: Anonymous

Word Count: 2010

Pairing: Loki x fem!black!reader

Warnings: Odin

(Y/N)'s POV

I groaned as I rolled over, trying to block out the light filtering through the room. It wasn't going anywhere, so I sat up and rubbed the sleep from my eyes. "Loki, I thought I told you to close the blinds before you went to bed last night."

"Sorry darling, it must've slipped my mind. Did you have a good slumber?" Loki asked as he pressed gentle kisses along my shoulder. I nodded, letting out one final yawn before standing up and stretching. "I'll make breakfast while you shower. Waffles sound good?"

"Yeah, waffles would be perfect. Thanks, Love." I bent down and gave him a quick peck on the lips.

----

Gods that shower really woke me up. I thought to myself as I brushed my hair into a bun. Good, it's growing. Maybe I should get it locked up so I don't have to do much to it anymore.

"Darling, you've been in here for a while. Is everything alright?" Loki called from the other side of the door.

"Yeah, everything's fine." I said as I opened the door. Loki was standing there, his hair still a mess, but he was wearing sweatpants and a black t-shirt. "Breakfast ready?"

"Yep." Loki wrapped his arm around my waist as we walked to the kitchen. The smell of vanilla and coffee filled my nose, causing me to let out a long sigh. "Sit down, I'll make your plate." I nodded and sat down at one of the bar stools in front of the island. Loki sat a plate of waffles, strawberries and bacon in front of me, as well as a steaming cup of coffee.

"I thought you didn't know how to use the coffee machine?" I joked as I took a sip of the coffee. Perfect. 

"I don't, I don't have the patience to learn various Midgardian technologies. I made it using my magic." He explained as he sat beside me. I rolled my eyes, flicking a strawberry at him.

"Y'know, if we're gonna spend the rest of our lives together, you should probably stop shitting on one of my people's greatest achievements." I said as I took a bite out of a piece of bacon. Loki's face fell for a split second before going back to normal. I still saw the look he gave me at my words. "What's wrong?"

"We won't be together for the rest of our lives. At least not for the rest of mine. You'll die before me." He said softly as he traced random patterns on the island counter. I sighed, turning my body so I was fully facing him.

"Loki, look at me." I said as I lifted his head so our eyes met. There was pain hiding behind those beautiful blue orbs, but there was a lot of doubt as well. "You know that that doesn't bother me. I've come to terms with the fact that I'll die before you. Don't let it bother you too much. As long as I get to spend the rest of my days with you, I'll have lived a fulfilled life. Understand?"

"I understand (Y/N), but it still hurts that I'll have to live without you. You've made me a better person. I'm sure this is probably selfish, but I don't think there's such a thing as a life worth living without you."

"I know, but there's nothing we can do about it." Loki looked down, not saying anything before nodding and cleaning our plates.

----

Loki's POV

There's nothing we can do about it. 

(Y/N)'s words from breakfast that morning had been playing in my head for about a week now. There is one thing we can do. If only I didn't have to ask him for permission.

"Loki, Thor should be here any minute. Are you ready to go?" (Y/N) asked as she walked into our room. 

"Ready as I'll ever be." I said as I grabbed her hand and pulled her to the living room. It was time for Thor and I's annual visit back to Asgard, and this time I decided to bring (Y/N) with me. She'd always wanted to travel, and there is no place better to start than my home planet.

A knock on the door alerted us to my brother's presence. (Y/N) opened the door to reveal standing there, an annoyingly large smile and traditional Asgardian armor on. "Lady (Y/N)! It's great to see you again! I do hope that my little brother is treating you well." Thor said as he hugged (Y/N).

"Of course he is, if he wasn't you know I'd beat his ass." (Y/N) said as she pulled away from the hug.

"Are you two done? Because we need to get going so mother doesn't worry." I said as I wrapped an arm around (Y/N) again. Thor nodded, and we made our way to an empty field so Heimdal could open the bifrost for us. I hope he's become kinder than the last time I saw him. 

----

"It's good to see you Heimdal." Thor said as we stepped out the bifrost. 

"Good to see you too, Thor. And you must be (Y/N), Thor and Loki have told me so much about you." Heimdal said as he turned towards (Y/N).

"Nice to meet you."

"You as well. The three of you should get going, the king and queen are waiting for you." 

As we walked along the bridge, I noticed (Y/N) looking around in awe. So adorable. I tapped her on the shoulder, causing her to look up at me with the most amazing sense of wonder. "I told you that words couldn't do this place justice."

"I knew it would be beautiful, but this is just… I can't even find the words to describe it." She said as she continued looking around. 

"If you want, later I can take you on a walk to explore the villages. They all have their own signature thing, whether it be food or clothes. You'll absolutely love it." I explained as I placed a kiss on her knuckles. She giggled and held onto my arm, laying her head on my shoulder. 

The guards opened the gates to the castle, mother and Odin waiting there for us. (Y/N) let go of my arm so I could properly greet them. I walked up to my mother and gave her a hug.

"Oh how I've missed you Loki. Have you been eating enough, you seem thinner than usual." Mother scolded as she looked over my body, shaking her head at my supposed weight loss.

"Mother, I'm fine. I assure you that I have been eating properly, (Y/N) makes sure of that." I said once she released me from the hug. (Y/N) walked over to us, bowing slightly towards my mother.

"Oh dear, there's no need for formality. Anybody who can see behind Loki's cold exterior shall be considered family." She said as she pulled (Y/N) into a tight hug. Hopefully she will be soon. I left the two of them to talk while I talked to my father. 

"Father, can I speak to you for a moment? Alone." I asked quietly. (Y/N) doesn't need to hear this conversation if it doesn't go in my favor.

----

(Y/N)'s POV

"So you and Loki have been together for 3 and a half years, correct?" Frigga asked as we sat on one of the benches in the entryway.

"Yes ma'am."

"So you started dating him even after everything that happened in New York?" 

"Yeah, but he's changed so much since then. He seems more… at peace with himself. He's a lot nicer to other people, and he's more willing to help the Avengers."

"Well, I'm glad that he's changed for the better. He seems to be very happy with you. I won't keep you long, let's go find the boys so they can show you around." She said as she stood up. I nodded, following her in the direction I presume the boys went in. The farther down the hall, 2 voices got louder and louder. What's going on?"

"... This one thing! Just the one! After all you have put me through, this is the least you could do." Loki yelled. "Why don't you want me to be happy?"

"You knew the consequences of falling in love with a mortal! It is not my responsibility to right your wrongs, Loki. You made your bed, now lay in it. That is my final word." Odin yelled back. Are they talking about me?

"But I love her! I've finally found someone that I want to spend the rest of my life with, and you won't let me. Why?"

"Because you-"

"Enough, both of you! You two have been so caught up in your arguing, you haven't realized that Mother and (Y/N) walked in!" Thor interrupted, pointing at me and Frigga. Loki turned and gave me a sad look, but Odin didn't move a muscle.

"What is all this fuss about?" Frigga asked as she looked between the 3 of them.

"Loki is being a foolish child." Odin finally said, finally turning his attention towards his wife.

"Oh I'm sorry, I didn't realize wanting to marry the girl I love made me a foolish child." Loki shot back with all the venom he could muster. Marry?

"Odin, if Loki wants to marry (Y/N), you should let him. They are clearly deeply in love."

"How do we know that this will last? This could easily be another one of his tricks in search of power."

"Father, I can promise you that those are not Loki's intentions. He's proven time and time again that he loves (Y/N) very much. Please, grant him this one happiness." Thor attempted to reason. Loki looked at his brother, giving him a small smile. Over the past few years, they had finally built a proper sibling bond, so I'm sure that Loki was very grateful for his brother's input.

"Father I promise, I have no ill intentions attached to wanting to marry (Y/N). Please, give us your blessing." Loki pleaded. 

"Fine! But if anything happens, it'll be the three of you all's fault!" Odin shouted as he pointed at Thor, Loki, and Frigga. 

----

"I'm so sorry that you had to hear that darling. I was hoping he would say yes, but I should've known he would be difficult." Loki had been apologizing to me the whole way back to our room, but I kept assuring him that it was fine. 

"Loki, I told you it's fine. It's not your fault." I said as I gave his cheek a quick kiss. He nodded and sat on the bed. "However, it would've been nice to know that you were proposing." I joked as I sat next to him, laying my head on his shoulder.

"Oh don't act so surprised, I know that you knew. You always know what I'm thinking before I have the chance to think it myself." Loki said as he rubbed my shoulder.

"You're right, but I still want you to ask me officially. And give me a ring." I held up my hand, turning it over. A small one would be nice.

"Once we get married, you can have all the jewels and rings that you want." Loki kissed me on the forehead, laying us down on the bed.

"I don't need jewels to be happy, love. All I need is you."

"And we'll have the rest of both of our lives together."

"What do you mean?" I asked as I looked up at him. 

"Us getting married means that our lifespans are connected. That means that when one of us dies, the other one won't fall far behind." He explained as he pushed my hair out of my face.

"I should've known that you would find a way for us to be together for as long as possible." 

"For you my darling? I'd search all 9 realms and beyond to find the answer."

[creatureofmystry]

MLB x DC Universe Headcannons

I just love the idea of MLB and DC (expecially Batfam cuz Mari is such a Wayne) being in the same universe and crossing over. So one night, I just had an idea overload of different ways the Marinette would know the batfam/be a part of the DC universe. And if any of my shitty ideas somehow inspire or prompt you, then please be my guest. 😊 _

1) “Ladybugs of Past and Present”

Hippolyta, Wonder Woman’s mother, was once a previous holder of the ladybug miraculous. When Fu activated the miraculous and put them in circulation, Hippolyta could feel its magic waking back up. Knowing there must a reason for it to be out, she sent a message to her daughter. Diana searched, finding Marinette and Adrien as the present holders of the ladybug and cat miraculous. She vouched and brought them into the Young Justice program while they also made their own team, Project: Zodiac (or something like that).

[Sometime when Diana takes Marinette to meet Hippolyta]

“Great Hera, Tikki, you have not aged a day” -Hippolyta, cause she does know how to make joke. 

“And I would say the same to you” -Tikki

“Mother, you can make a laugh?” -Wonder Woman, honestly a bit confused cause her mom have never not been serious before.

And Marinette is just speechless cause she’s starstruck meeting Wonder Woman’s mom AND a previous Ladybug holder.

_

2) “Rockstar Niece”

Jagged Stone is Marinette’s Sweet Uncle J. During the summers, Jagged Stone would take Mari with him on tour. HIs summer tours are throughout America, so Mari gets to sightsee the country. Jagged’s first tour that he gets to take Mari on (5-ish), he’s also booked for the annual (for whatever reason) Wayne Summer Gala. When Marinette meets the Waynes, they are so enamoured (Dick and Tim couldn’t help it) that they tell Jagged he’s always invited as a guest, Mari of course being added to the permanent guest list too. About 6 years later, Mari is practically adopted, spending the first half of her summers with Jagged, going to the Wayne Gala, then spending the rest of her summer with the Waynes. Overtime, she figured out the secrets of the family and was there to welcome Jason back from the dead (when that happens). Anyways, now 11(-ish?) Mari meets Damian and the two become good friends… after an… impressionable first meeting.

“Tch, let me guess, you’re another one of father’s adopted strays” -Dami

“YOU MUST BE DAMIAN!!! DICK TOLD ME ABOUT YOU!!” -Marinette, who just ignores what he said for a hug.

“hiiiiiiiiissssssss” -Dami, touchy with touch

“...” sprays water in his face since he decided to act like a cat.

“I say, Master Bruce, the children are getting along quite well” -Alfred

_

3) “Pen Pals” 

Jon Kent and Marinette Dupain-Cheng are part of an international pen-pal program, starting when they were very young (maybe like 4 or 5-ish, super super young) where they told each other everything (Jon can’t just say that his older bro is a clone made from Superman and Lex Luthor’s DNA, or that his dad is Superman, or that his best friend is Robin, but yea. Lois and Clark probably proofread his stuff until he’s like 9) with pictures and everything. When they’re old enough to get phones & stuff, they call, text and vid-chat along with their letters (love without blood). When Mari is maybe 9-11 (somewhere around there) she starts flying over during the summers to hangout with Jon (and his friends and big brother). While there, she meets Kon, Bat fam, and Clark (some who she already knew, some who she didn’t) & lightly hints that she knows who all they are once she figures it out (it didn’t take her long to do so). 

Now whenever she visits and is at Wayne Manor (Jon likes to have sleepovers practically every weekend) while they’re on patrol, Mari subtly messes with their minds (super subtle, they’re the world’s best detectives after all) until they finally look through the cams and see Mari giving them one of those smiles (those shit-grinning cause it’s just so hilarious how it’s gone on for so long) & and a playful wink. 

[5 seconds later]

“Mari!” “Pixie-pop!” “Angel!” “Teacup!”

“Seriously, am I the only one with a normal nickname for her?” -Tim

“Ms. Marinette would like to inform you that ‘it took you long enough’” -Alfred (who so knows that the girl has been playing them since the third night she stayed at the Wayne’s)

“Where are my adoption papers?” -Bruce (who is seriously adopting any talented black-haired child)

_

4) “Mari and Mar’i” 

When Mar’i is young, Dick and Kori take her with them to see Paris (btw, this would be during the winter). They’re strolling along through a park and lose track of Mar’i who finds Marinette (9-10 ish). Marinette comforts and distracts Mar’i while noticing the young(er) girl is Tameranian (her hair is very warm and she’s wearing significantly less layers than should be worn for a human of that age during the winter, plus that sun-kissed skin tone. She’s seen Kori in her fashion magazines (and, from time to time, on the news as an ambassador) so she easily make the connections). Dick and Kori finally spot Mar’i with Mari who introduces herself to them. Mar’i asks if she can see her “Auntinette” again and Marinette just goes “if your parents are okay with it.” Dick and Kori are totally cool with it (not many are willing to watch her and have the time to do it) so they ask Marinette if she can babysit Mar’i whenever (with good pay of course) if she’s up to it (cause she’s still pretty young). Marinette can’t say no to Mar’i’s babydoll eyes (and she’s so much easier compared to Manon, who’s only 2 rn), so of course, she says yes. 

Now Marinette is Mar’is official babysitter and sees Mar’i often whenever her parents drop her off (using zeta tubes to quickly get to Paris and back). Marinette gets treated like an honorary Wayne (cause she’s the most responsible) and gets invited to their family stuff (w/ travel pay taken care of, of course). It doesn’t take her long to realize the fact that she babysits Bruce Wayne’s & BATMAN’S granddaughter, but of course, being the responsible one she is, keeps the secret… while also playing with them via Mar’i.

[One Day]

After Marinette leaves for her plane…

“Uncle Dami!”

“Yes, Spawn?”

“Auntinette said to tell you after she left that Robin’s sut needs a major upgrade & that you look like a traffic light… whatever that’s supposed to mean.”

[Another Day]

“Uncle Jay!”

“What’s up kid?’

“Auntinette said that to let you know that Red Hood doesn’t make any sense ‘cause Red Hood wears a helmet. Not a hood.”

[The next time]

“Uncle Tim!”

Yawn. “yea?”

“Auntie told me to give you this” (pulls out super caffeinated coffee) “and that Red Robin’s cowl is a menace to all things fashion”

[Again…] 

“Daddy!”

“Yes, Starshine?”

“Auntienette said she’s proud of Nightwing’s costume ‘cause it’s one of the only in the batfam that isn’t an astro-city to the fashion society.”

_

5) “Marinette, the one who’s always getting chosen”

Before Mari became (becomes(?)) LB, she comes across a different powerful piece of jewelry, from a different order of guardians where her will of mind is not only her shield from being akumatized, but it is also what drives her powers. That’s right, Mari walks past a flea market and activates a GL ring. The guardians pick up on this activity and send Hal (it is his sector) to check it out. Hal finds the ring with Mari but it still needs the light of a GL to charge and fully work. 

[During the explanation]

“Look, kid-”

“Marinette.” 

“Look, kid, I just need to know why you have that ring.”

“You think I know? I was just walking through the market and all of a sudden, this possessed ring, if that’s even what this is, started following me, then zipped in front of my face til i held my hand up so it can put itself on my finger.” 

“Kid-”

“It’s MARINETTE. Get it wrong one more time and you’ll see why I don’t need a possessed piece of alien jewelry.” -Marinette, making sure you get her name right. “Besides, if I stole it, I would remember. I’m a klepto” -Marinette, probably holding his ring too at this point.

Hal obviously doesn’t want the wrath of the Dupain-Chengs (just the kid Marinette scares him enough), so he tells the guardians that JL will take care of most of Mari’s training (once they get her a lamp for her ring, of course) & has her take part in training at Mt. Justice with the Young Justice team and special training with the Bats. Mari does all this under the guise of an international student exchange program for Mari to stay with the Waynes (not yet knowing that it’s the bat fam) and attends G.A. Mari doesn’t do much, but it takes her 24-36 hours to know who EVERYONE is.

[the next week after settling in]

“Hey, Mars,” -Dick, in his Nightwing gear

“Hey, Di-is the GREATEST SHOW!” -Mari, changing the subject(… not really)

“How long did it take you?”

“Not as long as the Kryptonians…” -Mari, going off into a tangent (still trying to change the subject”

[When Marinette meets Tikki]

Back in Paris:

“Sooo… I’m getting powerful jewelry that gives me powers and a suit, needs to be recharged, and comes from some Order of the Guardians? What’s the difference between you and my ring?” -Marinette, who at this point is very confused as to why she keeps getting picked on for this kind of stuff. 

“One’s alien, one’s magic” -Tikki, hoping Mari will end it there & lowkey hates that the GL Corp. got to her first.

“They’re both non-human made energy sources” -Mari, cause once you’ve seen it once, you’ve seen it all before. 

“You can’t heal the Akuma without the miraculous, and there are more than just rings. Yours are earrings, there are hair clips, bracelets, necklaces and more” -Tikki, after having a minute to think

“Fine, only because you said they’re the only way to heal the, what was it again, akuma?”

_

6) “Their Unofficial Official Barista”

Part of Tim’s job as Co-CEO, is to make sure all the branches are running smoothly, sometimes that means he has to fly abroad to manually check in. Tim goes to Paris to check on the W.E. Paris branch. He goes to a nearby Patisserie (Tom and Sabine’s) to see a young Marinette (somewhere from 8-11) drawing in her sketchbook at the counter. She explains that her parents are at a catering event, but she’s there to man the little bakery. Tim asks for a super caffeinated coffee and Marinette makes it with ease, claiming it was on the house with how bad he looks (and how much sleep the man clearly needs). Tim begs for her knowledge and asks if she can teach his butler. Mari’s willing to show him the next time he comes, so he gets the whole fam to go (viz tubes so they don’t waste time) maybe a week later. Everyone gets their own drink (plus a free pastries) and Marinette teaches Alfred her coffee, but it’s just not the same so Tim, using the tubes, goes to get coffee from the girl whenever he can. 

Mari is horrible at getting up on time (the life of an insomniac, never getting to sleep even if you want and then barely waking up on time) that she is up super early, makes Tim his coffee (plus a croissant) and tries to go back to sleep (making her inevitably late). Tim would walk up to the pick-up counter where his cup and to-go bag is while Marinette runs out of the house to get to school. Eventually, the rest of the Batfam (as well as the Laegue, TT, and YJ) frequent the place, slowly becoming (Dami too) Mari hides it, but she knew all the batfam the first day they came and she showed Alfred how to make the coffee. When the others start making more regular appearances, she learns the identities of YJ team, WW, GLs, and others. Obviously when LB and CN appear as heroes with HM as their villain, they immediately reach out to help. Because 1. Batfam clearly notices that it’s Mari and they sure as heck won’t let her deal with that by herself, and 2. The JL is worrying too much about their favorite barista (even though she’s not really one), especially with the Gigantitan scare. So, of course LB & CN (can’t make him bad everytime) get inducted into YJ.

[After Ladybug finishes defeating Gigantitan and detransforms] 

“Bean! Are you okay? You’re not hurt, are you?” -Tim, being an even more protective older brother than Dick, which shouldn’t be possible

“Yes, I promise. I’m fine” -Marinette, who just accepts the fact that she’s adopted an older brother (and his famliy)

“Tube over, we’ll have Alfred make sure” -Dick, already pulling out the medical supplies for Alfred.

“I-” 

“You shouldn’t worry your brothers like that, Marinette. Now come over so Alfred can clear you,” -Bruce, who just happens to overhear the conversation

“I’m sorry, Miss Marinette, they are very adamant that you’re in pitch perfect health before going out again,” -Alfred, who’s not actually sorry

“Fine” -Marinette, accepting her fate of her adopted, protective family. 

_

7) “Thicker Than the Blood We’ve Shed”

Why is Marinette so freakishly strong? Because she was trained to be. Before she could even talk, Mari was taught to be an assassin. She and Damian were frenemies, both competing for top spot as best in the League (of Assassins). They often spared together and became rivals who pushed each other (which sounds great in that context if you forget about the fact that they’re killing people and turning it into a competition). When Damian’s care is turned over to Batsy, Mari also comes along for the ride. She implements herself into Dami’s classes at G.A. & watches him from afar. (Damian, not being an idiot, of course knows all this and knows that it’s probably for Mari to give a report to Talia.) When he becomes Robin, Mari obviously knows, but waits to see if anything drastic would happen (his care was given to the Batfam, they had already expected this to happen.) She then heard word of the bounty Talia put on Damian’s head. Marinette knew there wouldn’t be much she could do to help, but she ave Dami a warning about the upcoming situation before fleeing the country. 

From there she got to France, changed her name (it wasn’t originally Marinette, it was Shénqí, chinese for miraculous/magical (or something else if you want)), was adopted by Tom & Sabine, and left her time in the League in the past. When she received Tikki, she didn’t want to be a hero because she didn’t think she deserved it after her up-bringing. Eventually, she did become LB (being a trained assassin does help with lucky charms, considering she was taught how to kill with basically every and anything), and life was good for her. Then Rossi came.

[Gotham field trip]

While at Wayne Tower…

“How idiotic are they?” -Damian, who after reuniting with his long-lost sister-from-a-different-mister (yes, Marinette was able to convince him to say it once), can’t understand the stupidity she has to deal with.

“Are you Robin?” -Mari, who is too tired, so just goes straight into the analogy

“Yes.” -Obvious and simply is.

“Exactly” -Mari, who can’t even put a limit to the amount of thought the one brain cell the class shares doesn’t use. I mean please, the so-called “reporter” believed that the first cosplayer she saw was the actual LB when they don’t even have the same hair! And let’s not forget the origins arc, where LB’s first citizen save was Chloe.

[romanoffswifey]

Point Blank Part 2

Natasha Romanoff x Reader

Summary: Natasha struggles to deal with the aftermath of that night, and life still has a few surprises left to throw at her.

Contents/Warnings: mentions of serious injury, some angst (but don’t worry too much)

Words: 2,280

AN - As promised here is the second part to Point Blank. I’m so sorry that it took me so long to get this out (uni came along and kicked me in the head) but I hope that you still enjoy it

PART 1

Natasha stares into the bathroom mirror, barely recognising the woman who gazes blankly back at her. All bloodshot eyes and puffy eyelids, her face red and blotchy as loose strands of hair cling to the slightly damp trails that mar her cheeks.

She swallows thickly against the soreness of her throat and raises a shaky hand to her reflection. The skin of her fingers raw from where she had scrubbed at them. As if she could simply wash away the feeling of your blood on her hands.

You had started to feel so cold when Steve had finally pried you from her arms, he and Tony quickly rushing your limp form from the room. Leaving her frozen there. Watching as her world imploded around her, haunted by the knowledge that she’d been the one to cause it.

The muscles in her jaw and hands clench as realisation washes over her again. Her vision blurs as tears well in her eyes, and she draws back her fist, letting out a grief stricken roar as she slams it into the wall in front of her.

She has no idea how long she stays there, weeping quietly, before Wanda’s hands wrap around her arm. Gently taking her hand away from the web of cracks she’d just created and pushing it under the stream of water once more. 

The redhead tenses when she’s led back into the main part of the room. A wave of nausea hitting her as she catches a glimpse at just how much of your blood now stains the bed sheets. 

The younger woman notices her reaction and hurriedly guides her down the hallway to her own room, knowing that the redhead wasn’t going to stay in your shared room any longer but certainly not trusting her to be in her spare room alone.

Natasha spends the rest of the night laying awake next to the brunette. Staring at the ceiling as silent tears run down her face, as every time she closes her eyes she’s back there. Reliving that moment over and over again.

Morning comes, and a small part of Natasha is glad for Wanda’s grounding presence as Tony leads the pair to the labs. A warm hand on her shoulder helps to calm her when he begins to place machinery around her head, the billionaire hoping to discover the cause of her actions.

It turned out that when she was separated from the team during your last mission, she had actually been captured by a set of Hydra operatives. The agents deciding to try out their latest form of brainwashing on her. A type of subliminal suggestion.

Clearly they had underestimated her skill as she had put up one hell of a fight, even while under the influence of whatever they had given her. This, combined with the approaching battle from the rest of the avengers, meant they had been forced to let her go before they were finished. Only managing to implant a small piece of their directive into her mind.

But a piece is all they had needed.

To take out even one avenger would be a win for Hydra, and you were the obvious target. Your relationship with Natasha meant that it was normal for you to be in close proximity with each other and for you to have your guard down around her. All she had to do was stick by your side as usual and the programing would kick in and do the rest.

This knowledge did nothing to lessen the pain and the guilt that filled her. Did nothing to change the fact that she had been the one to pull the trigger. 

She can’t stand the looks of sympathy that the others keep throwing her and the way they don’t seem to hold her accountable. So she avoids them. Choosing to forgo team meals and quickly dismissing their offers of company.

But she doesn’t go down to see you either. She thinks whatever is left of her heart would crumble if she saw you now. How could she sit next to your bedside when she was the one who put you there in the first place? She’s not sure you would even want her there if she did.

Over the last 5 years you had provided her with everything she had searched for her whole life. Giving her all your love and support, and helping her believe that she was deserving of it. She felt like she was where she belonged when she was with you, like she had found her home. You were the only person she’d ever had the desire to spend the rest of her life with, and she had repaid you by putting a bullet in you.

When the day drags into evening Wanda gets fed up with watching her self destruction and puts her foot down. The Sokovian forcing the redhead to get something to eat or drink before she makes herself sick. 

Natasha now sits quietly at the kitchen table, her dull eyes fixed on the grain of the wood as Wanda busies herself off to the side. The sound of bubbling fills the silence followed shortly by the clanking of metal on ceramic. 

Careful hands come to adjust the blanket around her shoulders, and a mug is placed in front of her. The scent and colour tell her what it is immediately; Yorkshire tea, milk, two sugars. Your hot beverage of choice. 

She finds it laughable that she should seek comfort from your favourite drink while you could be fighting for your life right now. And yet, some traitorous part of her still does. The familiarity of it ghosting soothingly over the ache in her chest.

Her gaze remains drawn to the rising steam but she’s aware of the way Wanda moves to join a couple of people by the door. A small hint of anger flaring within her as she registers the happiness in their hushed tones. Her annoyance grows after she hears only two sets of footsteps walk down the hall. Leaving her with the feeling of being watched by whoever stayed.

“You know, I was a bit upset that you didn’t come and visit me at first.” Natasha’s head  snaps up at your voice. “But then I realised that you’re probably stuck in that beautiful ginger head of yours.”

“How?” is all she manages to rasp. Gaping at you as you stand leaning on the doorframe like nothing had happened.

You walk over to her, not missing the rough quality of her voice or the way she still squints slightly against the soft light of the room. Your heart twinges at how small and broken she looks as she sits there.

Green eyes watch intently as you kneel in front of her and pick up the tea, humming at the taste as you take a sip, then blowing gently over the brim before offering it to the other woman. Your lips quirk into a small smile when her fingers brush over your own as she takes it from you.

Natasha has to admit that it does feel nice against the scratchiness of her throat.

“How are you up here right now?” she asks a bit easier this time, setting the tea back down and hesitantly reaching out for your hand.

“Well, it turns out that enhanced physiology and the best medical treatment a billionaire can buy are very useful when you get shot,” you explain with a half-smile. “In fact, they said that I'll be perfectly fine and left with minimal scarring.”

You place a kiss on the back of her hand and push it under your jumper, guiding it up towards the tender spot at the top of your abdomen. “See, it’s not that bad.”

Through the bandages and the gauze that lay across your skin, the redhead can feel a small rough patch. It’s barely bigger than her finger tip. But she still frowns as she traces over it.

“I’m sorry,” she chokes, dropping both her gaze and her hand, “I’m so sorry.”

Your brows furrow this time. “What have you got to be sorry for, dorogoy?”

“I did this to you, Y/N. I was supposed to protect you and I shot you! You should hate me! You should want nothing to do with me, not be sat here calling me darling!”

“Hey, look at me.” Her teary eyes reluctantly meet your own as you cup her face. “Hydra did this to me, not you. We both know how their brand of mental warfare works and I’m not going to let you torture yourself over it. I love you too much for that.”

“But I still hurt you. I could have done something to stop it and I let you down,” she argues.

“No you didn’t. You tried to fight it. You knew that something wasn’t right and tried to warn me.” You let out a huff of amusement. “Even subconsciously you did try to protect me, just like you always do.”

Her eyes become more focused and her ragged breathing slows down, showing that she was listening to what you said.

Natasha stands and you follow suit, watching quietly as she studies you for a moment before pulling you into a fierce hug. She buries her face in the crook of your neck while her fingers dig into the thick knit of your jump, clutching at you tightly as she breathes in your scent. She sighs softly as you begin to rub comforting circles across her back.

The pair of you stay like that for a few minutes, just enjoying the embrace. Glad to be back in the other's arms once more.

When she pulls back, you bring your left hand up to caress her face and a small glint catches her eye. The Russian finally noticing the ring you’re wearing.

“You found it,” she murmurs as she runs her finger along the metal band.

You flash her a sheepish smile. “It was an accident I swear. And in my defence, for a super spy you do sometimes pick terrible hiding places.”

The place she had chosen to hide it was not the best, she had to give you that, but at the time she was kind of freaking out. She had known for a while that you were the only person she wanted to be with but the actual purchasing of the engagement ring had been a spur of the moment decision, and once she’d returned to the compound the panic had set in.

Despite the fact she had long since learnt that everything the Red Room had spouted about love was a lie, she couldn’t help the hint of fear that rose in her at what her desires meant. What that ring represented. And then there was the worry that you wouldn’t actually want to spend the rest of your life with her. Even though you had been with her for so long already. After everything that had happened recently, the latter of her fears only seemed to grow.

She looks away, nervously picking at the edge of the blanket as she voices her thoughts. “Would you even want to?”

“Would I want to what?” you ask, biting the inside of your lip to keep from smiling as you try your hardest to play dumb.

Her eyes flick back to yours. “Would you want to...get married?” she trails off quietly, finally saying the words you were waiting for.

A bright grin appears on your face, and she can’t help the way her own lips tug upwards as she rests her forehead against yours.

“Of course I want to get married, moya lyubov.” You bump your noses together playfully. “Though, I’ll only do it on one condition.”

Natasha hides the flash of panic that runs through her. She’s not entirely sure she can cope with any more emotional turmoil.

You pull away slightly so you can reach into your pocket, pulling out a small velvet box that you hold up in front of you. When you open the lid the redhead lets out a little gasp at its contents. “That condition being that you, Natalia Romanova, would be my wife.”

For the first time that day the tears that well in her eyes are ones of joy. 

Placing one hand over the ring you’re holding and winding the other around the back of your neck, she pulls you into a bruising kiss. The passion behind it makes you weak in the knees and you can’t help the moan that escapes as her tongue pushes into your mouth, brushing over yours in a way that has no business feeling as good as it does.

After a while she releases your lips with a soft pop, leaving you both breathless and not quite able to open your eyes just yet. You can still feel her smirk though.

“I take it that’s a yes then,” you murmur against her lips.

She chuckles and responds by drawing you into another kiss.

Later, once you’ve made sure she’s eaten properly and she’s helped you with a very relaxing bath; you lay in bed together. Natasha wrapped around you protectively while you read a dog eared copy of your favorite book.

She hums contentedly into the side of your neck as she presses herself closer to you. Her smile widens when she glances down to where you’re absentmindedly playing with her fingers. Knowing that soon you won’t only have each other’s hearts, but each other’s names as well.

Natasha L/N-Romanoff had a nice ring to it, and she has a feeling it’s the one that she’s finally going to keep.