#even though as readers we get to see everything he does in full glory

[meowchela]

thinking about the running joke in dorabase where suzu is constantly getting mike wazowski'd and while its a good bit that i like, i also can't help but think about what thats been doing to his psyche

like. honestly its part of why i like him so much, he's a genuinely capable player and has a good number of standout moments but they're all undercut by the fact that nobody ever gets to see them/he never gets appreciated or even seen for what he does. do you think that gets to him??? like hes clearly dejected when he sees how nobodys rly reconizing him and i think after a while thats gonna get internalized hard. like i dont think it'll affect him on the field because hes a determined team player but his self esteem and interpersonal relationships are gonna suffer a LOT if he keeps getting treated like that......like if you feel invisible its very easy to start isolating yourself because whos gonna notice yknow. add on the fact that hes a servant robot (for a rich family yes, but considering we havent even seen his owners they probably dont treat him as anything but a product either.....like compared to kuro and hyoro, when we see those two's home lives its a very close familial bond but the one time we see into suzus house we just see another butler with his owners nowhere to be found??? like even chibi has his owner shown once so we know he exists but suzu's are mentioned but never shown so. the whole "not being seen" extends to his home life too no doubt) AND ALSO that hes shown to be sensitive and crumbles under presure easily (example: when he got stressed and cried during wabc and hyoro had to snap him out of it) i really really really domt think his mental state is doing too well

like my brother in christ your sense of self is probably Horrible for so so many reasons

its even more intruiging because outwardly he seems fine and i think thats def playing a part im things. like he just blends into the background so well and he's so polite that he wont wanna disturb anyone with his problems but that In Itself is the problem!!!!! he probably underestimates his own importance a lot because hell everyone else kinda does too and i can def see that leading to him closing off internally

idk its late and im having a lot of thoughts but not much is coming out comprehensive esp bc suzu is mostly a secondary character who has few moments of focus but like. his inner machinations are so fascinating to me and i love atudying him under a microscope

[it-happened-one-fic]

Dead of the Night - Diluc (Part 1)

Author's Notes: This is the first part of my Halloween/October fic series for Genshin Impact! This is going to be a Vampire! AU, so heads up for the folks who don't like vampires. I wrote and edited this series exclusively to "Is this Love" by Whitesnake which did kind of influence how this series came together. Also, this a fair bit more lengthy than my usual works. As per usual, Reader is gender-neutral. I hope you enjoy!

Type: Gender-Neutral Reader/ Vampire! AU/ pining/ romance/ some drama/ fluff with a touch of angst

Word Count: 2578

{Part 1: You're here!}, {Part 2}, {Part 3}, {Part 4}

Also available on AO3 (link deleted due to glitches)

Trigger Warning: Reader does get attacked by a vampire, but all is well.

I frowned up at the grey clouds overhead that were currently hiding the usually glorious sunset that no doubt painted the sky the same colors as the autumn leaves that clung to trees in a show of their final glory before they fell under the pressure of the strong October winds.

But I wasn’t frowning because I couldn’t see the sunset. No, I was frowning because the forecast called for it to be overcast for the entirety of October, which meant one thing. 

And that one thing was the very subject that I could already hear being discussed loudly at Angel’s Share as I approached the tavern to meet up with my friends. 

“It’s bad enough that it’s October, but it's supposed to be overcast for the entire month now! How are we going to survive the annual influx of vampires when the bold ones will even be out during the day?!”

I sighed at the overly loud shouts from the other people at the tavern, but it came as no surprise. The normally laid-back people of Mondstadt had gotten into the habit of becoming uncharacteristically tense in October, when I’d still been young.

It was back then that they’d come with the Fatui, the vampires. A plague from the cold lands of Snezhnaya, where they thrived in the terminally overcast conditions. They had followed the Fatui, probably laying hidden within their ranks, and come to Mondstadt in my youth. And ever since then, there had been vampires in the land of freedom.

They usually remained quiet, with few attacks ever being heard of. But for unknown reasons, they always seemed to become agitated around the time of Halloween, with October being noted as a month full of attacks. 

Usually everyone got their work done during daylight hours and stayed indoors with every conceivable entrance locked as soon as dusk came. But this year it would be overcast throughout October, and, just as the man had loudly explained, some vampires would inevitably take advantage of the lack of sunlight.

“Loud crowd tonight, hm?” I lifted my shoulder in a half-shrug at Kaeya’s words. It was nice to see that even now Kaeya was managing to be as relaxed as ever, despite the gossip flying around about vampires.

“I can’t really blame them, but I’m sure it’s rowdy with the Knights of Favonius too,” I smiled sympathetically at the calvary captain as I sat down next to him. Watching as he swirled the liquid in his mug.

“When is it not? Jean is taking precautions, though,” Kaeya leaned back in his seat, giving me a look that told me everything I needed to know. Just like always, poor Jean was probably overworking herself and doing her very best to soothe a public who would not be soothed.

“I just hope this doesn’t get in the way of the festivals,” Venti frowned poutily at his wine bottle, earning a grin from both me and Kaeya as we both looked towards the sulky bard. But Venti did love festivals. It was a good time for him to perform for joyful festivalgoers and also get wine for cheap.

“What’ll it be, Y/n?” I blinked in surprise at the voice that sounded from behind me, causing me to twist in my seat to look wide-eyed up at the redhead that I definitely had not been expecting to see but who was currently looking down at me as calmly as ever.

Even though he owned the establishment, it was odd to see Diluc at Angel’s Share. He was usually busy dealing with his massive wine business. Either from abroad, dealing with local merchants, or at the Dawn Winery, one.

“I’ll…. Just some Sweet Cider Lake... Thanks,” I faltered under his expectant gaze, but if he noticed, he didn’t react. Instead, he just nodded and headed off towards the counter to prepare my drink.

But unlike his lack of noticing my faltering, I twisted to find my two friends wearing matching grins as they watched me.

I scowled slightly at the two men, only for Venti to let out a mischievous giggle as Kaeya chuckled and held up his hands as if he were surrendering, “Alright, sorry. I should’ve warned you he was here today.”

I crossed my arms, watching Kaeya closely as he smiled far too smugly down at the warmed wine that he continued to swirl in his mug even as I began to question him, “And is that why you wanted to meet up here today?”

The man’s single visible eye widened at my words, and he pressed one hand to his chest, “What? Of course not! I simply wanted my good friends to partake of these delicious seasonal drinks, that’s all.”

His honeyed tone was impressive, but I was hardly convinced. 

I didn’t get to say anything, though, since Venti spoke up before I could. Leaning forward with a grin as he eyed Kaeya, “Oho, So you’re going to be buying our drinks then?”

I twisted to look towards Kaeya, so that me and Venti were both looking at the cavalry captain expectantly as he raised his hand in laughing surrender, “Just one round.”

“You’ll all need to be headed home at that point anyway… It’ll be getting late,” Diluc’s voice came from behind me, and it caused me to still once more as he sat down my mug.

His bright red eyes flickered my way from where he’d leaned over to set down my drink, meeting my gaze as he gave the slightest of head nods, “Enjoy.”

It was odd. Speaking to him this way. Ever since that day all those years ago, he’d become more withdrawn. 

Just like everyone else in Mondstadt who’d been close to him as a child, I’d awaited his return from his journeys. Praying that, with time, he’d recover from the wounds of his past. But when he’d finally come back, he was still changed, and I suppose I shouldn’t have expected any less considering what he’d experienced.

By now, I was used to it, so in no way was his distantly polite behavior strange to me. But, nonetheless, it was still odd when I talked to him considering that, unlike our other friends, the two of us had never managed to reconnect since our youth.

It was a distant sensation, speaking to someone I’d once been so close to but now seldom saw. Almost like I was looking at him from a long way off, even though he was right next to me.

And I didn’t even know which one of us maintained the distance. Only that it remained between us.

I nodded though, my voice coming out unintentionally soft as I responded with a quiet, “Thank you.”

It was this strangeness, I was certain, that had caused so many to believe that I was smitten with Diluc. And though it was true that I did like Diluc, it was also true that, for the most part, the strange taint to our interactions was what made the atmosphere so awkward.

If anyone realized that, it was Kaeya. Because even though he teased me, he would sometimes go out of his way to have the two of us meet up. Almost like he was trying to ease that strange tension.

Even now, he watched the two of us closely. His brother as he walked away from the table with his usual calmness, and me as I looked away from my old friend and down at my drink. 

The sweet mixture of fruit juice and milk I recalled getting when I was young and always begging Crepus for a decorative cinnamon stick just like the one that currently swirled in my mug lazily.

It seemed that even despite this distance, Diluc still remembered things from our shared childhood. Even the little things.

Conversation flowed freely between me, Venti, and Kaeya. With the cavalry captain keeping his promise and buying each of us another round of drinks before we began to trickle out the door with fond farewells on our lips. 

I lingered the longest, my brain having been preoccupied ever since I’d begun pondering what it was that had changed all those years ago in my interactions with Diluc. 

Was the reason our relationship had not progressed since then my fault? It was possible, but it wasn’t like I hadn’t made an effort. In fact, I’d been one of the first ones to go and welcome him back home when he’d first returned.

I couldn’t blame him either, though. He hadn’t been cold or tried to drive me off in any way. Rather, it was like we drifted apart in the most natural of ways. But it still left a sadness in my heart when I thought about what, exactly, had become of our friendship.

I stood, turning to head towards the door, only to be stopped by a cautious hand on my shoulder. I turned to see Diluc looking at me, his other hand resting on the table that he’d no doubt just come to clean before closing the tavern for the night.

“Be careful going home. Night has already fallen.” Unlike his usual words, these seemed to be tinged with unsteady awkwardness. Almost like he, too, was at long last feeling that same tension that I’d felt all this time.

But I was relieved nonetheless, and I smiled at him, “I will be. But you ought to be careful as well. After all, you’ll be leaving even later than I will.”

A smile flitted across Diluc’s face, so fast that if I’d blinked, I would have missed it before he shook his head, “No, I’ll be fine. Thank you, though. Take care Y/n.”

I left Angel’s Share with a smile still on my face and a brief wave towards the young man, who was once a close friend and now wasn’t quite a stranger. I knew him too well for that to ever be the case.

 Even if the Diluc I’d gotten to know had been the young one, some of the same things still held true for the man that had been true for the boy. And, strangely, it was a comfort to know that. 

I glanced up at the sky as I strolled down the street, noting how the clouds had cleared so that the starry sky was perfectly visible. I smiled to myself at the common sight.

 Perhaps all of October wouldn’t be cloudy, and it would be just as normal as could be, with one only having to be careful of vampires at night.

No sooner than those thoughts had registered, than the sound of something on the rooftops just next to me had me freezing in the darkened street. 

I frowned almost immediately as the sounds stopped at the very same moment my footsteps had halted. But those sounds had been too heavy to be one of the cats from the Cat’s Tail.

With a creeping feeling of dread as all of those comments about vampires came back to haunt me, I turned and looked up.

I swallowed thickly as I gazed up at the ominous silhouette that I was almost positive did not belong to the rumored Darknight Hero. And when the man leapt down, landing easily on the stone pathway in front of me, I didn't wait to find out. Instead, I turned and ran. Bolting down the pathway only to hear the sound of heavy footfalls that signaled that I was indeed being chased.

Internally, I cursed myself for having become so lost in my thoughts earlier that I let the hour get so late. If I hadn’t been so busy thinking about the past and how it had led to the present, I wouldn’t have been in this situation. I would be at home, safe and sound. Free to mope over Diluc in safety.

But thinking about it wouldn’t change anything now, and it certainly wouldn’t help me get away from the creature chasing me.

My hand grasped a light pole as I practically threw myself around a corner and used the pole to help myself keep up my momentum.

The only reason I hadn’t been caught yet was the adrenaline I could feel pumping through my veins, but it would only last so long, and the moment it ran out, I’d be caught. 

After all, it was common knowledge that vampires could go at incredible speeds, and, judging from the lack of heavy breathing to accompany the racing footsteps behind me, my pursuer wasn’t entirely mortal. Or at the very least, if they were, they had incredible stamina.

I slipped on the cobblestones but kept going, my feet digging at the smooth pathway that usually made for nice strolling. But it wasn’t enough. 

Arms snatched at me, forcing me to the ground as I fought back. Kicking out and rolling all at once. As if looking up at my assailant could help.

And, sure enough, the fanged face that greeted me confirmed my fears. Despite the warnings I’d heard for the better part of my life, I’d gotten myself caught by a vampire. 

There were no questions as to what was going to happen next, even as I struggled in its inhumanly strong grasp. Doing everything I could to break free, even though every logical part of me knew my chances were slim at best.

For unknown reasons, I didn’t scream. But tears stung at my eyes as it bared its teeth at me, a hissing sound emitting from its mouth before it made a mad dive for my neck.

I jerked my chin down and over my neck in a feeble attempt to protect myself, even as I squeezed my eyes shut. But the painful sensation of its bite never came.

Instead, the vampire was ripped off of me with a howl of rage that had my eyes flying back open almost immediately, only to see the creature get flung across the street.

I scrambled backwards, looking up with wide eyes, to see the incredibly familiar but unexpected sight of flaming red hair that clearly gave away my savior’s identity.

A curse fell from the vampire’s lips, causing me to flinch slightly as my gaze darted back where it crawled out of the now-cracked fountain with a snarl, “You have no claim on them. Find your own food.”

Food…? What?

My eyes darted back towards where Diluc stood, calmly fixing his glove as he stayed between me and the vampire, “As if you have some sort of claim to them. It’s high time you crawled back into whatever hole you came from.”

His voice was beyond cold. Far icier than I’d ever heard him sound before, but then I’d never seen Diluc like this either.

The vampire gave a wheezy snort of laugh as it shook itself off, patting at its sleeves in an almost mocking way, “As if a child like you could make me. You aren’t even a clan leader, just a pathetic loner who's in denial.”

It stepped back with one foot, rolling its shoulders in a way that could only be described as predatory, and had me grimacing as I pressed myself back further still, even as I kept staring at the scene before me. Somehow unable to look away despite desperately wanting to escape this moment.

“I suppose some before-meal exercise is in order, though,” Its voice was haughty as it spoke, a glint to its eyes right before it dove forward. Arms outstretched and fangs bared as it launched at Diluc, who, at odds with the creature, stood firm.

In fact, he seemed utterly calm as he reached and grabbed the hilt of the claymore that appeared out of thin air the very moment he needed it. 

“Very well,” His voice was calm but held an undertone of irritation as his hand curled firmly around his weapon's hilt. But then, as he swung his weapon, I could see that his face set with a special sort of rage as the weapon sliced through the creature and flames ignited along its blade right as he bellowed, “BURN!”

And in the light of those flames, I saw something so incredibly simple that made my blood run cold. Because as I looked at his enraged profile while he shouted that condemning word and the vampire caught fire and incinerated at unnatural speeds, I stared at a sight that horrified me far more.

The two sharp fangs, that perfectly explained what the vampire had meant when it had mentioned food earlier.

*Sweet Cider Lake is a drink from the Drink a-dreaming event. It was made with juice and milk.

@vera-deville

[jonsnowunemploymentera]

*I’m about to do a whole lot of nonsensical rambling so feel free to ignore*

The theory that Jaime Lannister will join the Night’s Watch at the very end of the story has always intrigued me, mostly because of the very visual changes that would encapsulate his series long character arc up to that point.

Because from the very first time that we see him on page, he’s always been in colors that are bold…or even glitter in a way? His main characteristic has been that of a man of the kingsguard - a highly prestigious institution. The highest point a knight could reach I guess. Not only that but he’s also one of the greatest living knights in the land as far as sheer skill goes. But just as we’re introduced to his place in this illustrious position, we’re immediately told that he’s a kingslayer. He’s a knight whose main job is to protect the king, but he killed the damn guy (then sat on his throne as if rubbing salt in the dead man’s wounds). And it’s not badass or anything. This monicker is one given to him through mocking.

He does some pretty messed up things too (like the defenestration of poor Bran Stark). So it’s shocking (and lowkey poignant) when the very thing that helped him rise to his illustrious position (his sword hand) is taken from him and he has to in many ways start from scratch. And this starting from scratch even opens up a path to redemption for him. And an important aspect of that is the introduction of Brienne of Tarth, who to many readers represents the ideal of what a knight should strive to be even though she isn’t one necessarily: Brienne whose “no chance and no choice” lives up to the basic knightly vow of protecting the weak.

So Jaime is a white knight. A white knight in shining armor who historically is presented as an unblemished hero. But this shining knight’s white cloak is soiled - by his own admission. Then he loses his knight’s hand and goes on this journey and to a lot of us, it seems like he’s now trying to be a good guy and trying to live up to the actual idea of being a “good knight” (whatever tf that means). He’s also struggling with keeping all these vows that he swore. We as readers can’t help but to cheer for Jaime. We want him to find redemption. We want to say, “look how he made his white cloak anew! Look how he actually became the white knight in shining armor that he yearned to be”.

So him joining the Night’s Watch is not something a lot of people would say they predict for him; I certainly didn’t at first! That’s a black cloak, not a white one. Many of us want him to mend the pretty white cloak, not don the black one that has so far not represented anything positive in the story. The kingsguard is an illustrious order whereas the NW is everything but. The kingsguard holds skilled knights but we’re told that the NW is full of unskilled old men and green boys. A man of the kingsguard has great reputation but a man of the NW is at best a criminal. You join the KG for a taste of glory but are sentenced to the NW which is essentially a suspended death sentence - there is no future and you swear a vow to win no glory AND your honor goes to shit; which is absolutely hilarious because two things that are representative of Jaime as a knight, his horses, are named for ‘honor’ and ‘glory’.

But then think about it: it seems so simple right? Jaime starting out in an institution that is high in honor (theoretically) but then ending the story in another that hasn’t seen any honor in millennia seems like the very sort of thing that GRRM would do. The visual dichotomy of moving from a white cloak that is soiled to a black one that cannot be soiled is pretty neat as well - I mean you could argue that a black cloak can still be soiled just that the stain is not visible, but I choose the interpretation that whatever blemishes there are do not remove the base purpose or identity. And again, black can represent purity.

So the white -> black shift is thematically very neat…but then I always get stumped because well wait, what will the NW look like at the end of the story? And an extension of that question is who will Jaime be as a member of this NW?

The NW from the very first page of the series has been rotten to the core. It started out with this noble higher purpose (to guard the realms of men against the Others), but it has long forgotten it’s true purpose and has (in a very caricature-like performance of duty) spent thousands of years fighting against the very people it was sworn to protect. Not only that but this once great institution that housed hundreds upon hundreds of great knights (men who were once exalted from all corners of the seven kingdoms) now houses hundreds and hundreds of criminals: rapers, thieves, political prisoners, etc, from all parts of the seven kingdoms. The people who exist outside the social contract are the main part of the NW.

The NW sucks ass but(!) it’s true purpose still remains. Winter is coming and in true GRRM fashion, the very men who will have to protect the realms of men are the ones who have been cast away, damned, and forgotten by the people they’re sworn to protect. Then in comes Jon Snow (a bastard, mind you, who also exists in the fringes of society) who tries and fails to restore the NW to its true purpose. The result of his failure is well: stabby-stab-stab. Due to the mutiny at Castle Black (and the general state of the Watch up until Jon’s last chapter in ADWD), many Jon fans want the Watch to be completely destroyed. It’s rotten so might as well just get done with it…

But I’m not so sure that the total annihilation of the Watch is necessary. I’m a firm believer that the fallout from Jon Snow’s assassination (and possible death) will be the important catalyst needed to uproot the decayed moral center of the Watch. I believe that the Watch as we know it will die…but sometimes, things must die in order to be reborn. And what better way for the Watch to be reborn than with the death and rebirth of its most important member, Jon Snow? I’ve said many many times that Jon in ASOIAF is the very embodiment of the cycle of life after death; the cycle of death and decay then eventual renewal. Jon’s arc has been about taking charge of the cripples, bastards, and broken things, the criminals and the unwanted. He takes and leads the ones who are othered. And then he takes them and gives them purpose. Arms them and empowers them. Sam and the NW recruits, Arya, the wildlings, etc.

So given what Jon represents in this story and his relation to the NW (let’s be real, the NW storyline is Jon’s) I don’t think it’s fitting for the NW to be destroyed and cease to exist. Rather, it makes sense for it to die and be renewed into something closer to its true purpose: to protect the realms of men. And since I’m a firm believer that the NW will be remade, I’ve always believed it would be repurposed post WFTD to be an institution that guards the survivors and helps rebuild the land/community. The seasons will be balanced so that means that winter/death will still be coming, but first the men of the NW must live.

I not sure yet what these changes will entail but I do know that the issue or vows will come up. The swearing and keeping of oaths and vows is an important motif in both Jon’s and Jaime’s arc. Both of them struggle with the weight of keeping vows they’ve sworn to their respective institutions, especially because they’ve some times been made to perform actions that are against those vows.

In my ideal world, the entire business of swearing vows is done away with once Jon restructures the Watch. We see time and time again in his arc that there is a difference between saying and keeping oaths/vows. One of my absolute favorite scenes in the entire series is when Jon faces off against Marsh and co. in ADWD and then proceeds to recite the NW vows from start to finish because while his detractors know the vows by heart, they do not keep the spirit of them. In fact, many advocate for actions that would be the exact opposite of their vows. The lesson here being that just because you swore to do something, doesn’t mean you’ll actually follow through in ways that count.

See, I think parts of the NW vows are very important (i.e., protecting the realm, being a shield, etc). But other parts seem unnecessary. A man may be doing a bang up job of wearing no crowns or winning no glory but is he actually performing the actual job of the NW: to protect the realms of men? Part of me has always felt that an ideal NW wouldn’t need any vows to be sworn. As long as any man or woman has the will and zeal to perform the basic function of the Watch, which is to protect the realm, then no vows are necessary (might be an unpopular opinion I know).

I guess it sounds like my ideal NW is basically the BWB in its foundation: a band of people who were joined under the common goal of dispensing the king’s peace and justice; and this tracks because Jon and Beric are parallels so it shouldn’t be far fetched for the NW and BWB to also mirror each other. AFAIK, the BWB swears no fancy vow despite its noble purpose.

So I was just thinking that wouldn’t it be interesting for Jaime, a man who has struggled under the weight of a dozen vows (I’m probably exaggerating) to join an institution where no vows are necessary, but to uphold himself to a standard where he will keep the spirit of the vow anyway? Before he was made a kingsguard, he was a knight. And a knight swears to protect the weak. The NW’s purpose is to protect the men and women of the realm, with the understanding that there will be no personal benefit/gain. There will be no honor or glory, it’s just what one should do.

And I got to thinking about Jaime’s AFFC arc. This is a little reductive (forgive me for that) but he travels the Riverlands trying to establish the king’s peace. But he’s supporting a rather corrupt regime and going around with his horses named Glory and Honor, wishing and calling himself “Goldenhand the just”. He is rebuilding Westeros after the W0t5K, though this is being done under the banner and interests of the Lannister regime and under the umbrella of Lord Tywin’s legacy…which isn’t great to say the least. He, a damned man, covered up the loss of his knight’s identity with a golden arm. And while he understands that this is renewal for him, he can be something different now, he hasn’t really understood just how different he could/and needs to be.

So I’d like a reversal of his AFFC arc. But instead of a white cloak, he has a black one. There’s no honor and no glory to be won. But he decides that he wants to help rebuild Westeros the right way. There’s no benefit for him. But he will be living up to the Ser part of his name. It would even be more poignant if he’s doing this under Jon Snow, whether Jon is the 1000th LC or Lord of Winterfell or whatever. Because Jaime gains his dishonor by killing Jon’s grandfather Aerys. He donned the white cloak for Aerys. But to find honor (though unexpectedly and not out of self interest) and wear the black cloak under Jon is such an interesting continuation; let’s also remember that Jon is Ned Stark’s spiritual heir in many ways, and Jaime has a uh complicated relationship with honor as it relates to Ned Stark.

Btw I’m not advocating for Jaime to be Jon’s lapdog or anything. He’s a wholly different character whose arc exist away from Jon. I’m just mentioning Jon because there are thematic intersections, and I fully expect him to still have a relationship with the (renewed) NW at the end of the story. Thus, their arcs could possibly clash at some point.

So yeah, jaime joining the NW is something so wonderful to me because the thematic closure is actually quite rich. He doesn’t have to die for his to be a good story, and he doesn’t have to get an absurdly happy ending that ignores the things he must atone for. He’s one of my favorite characters (a solid top 5), so I have to admit that I very much want him to live. But I do want him to live and find himself at a place that provides him a purpose that he thought had eluded him. He can still be a knight, maybe not the one he wanted or expected. But it would give him the opportunity to effect some real positive change that he tried and failed to do in AFFC. A knight is sworn to protect the weak. And Westeros will be battered and bruised after the Long Night. It will need to be rebuilt, especially up north where the othered wildlings could be. So I’d like for jusrt Ser Jaime to find his purpose helping those he probably never even acknowledged.

[iviarellereads]

Full TLT series to date thoughts on rereading Harrow the Ninth, chapters 1-5

A probably semi-regular weekly bonus to my reread blog, since sometimes you realize things on reread that just make you need to yell in a full spoiler space.

I love seeing all the ways Harrow's haunting affects her when she can't remember why. The sword, Wake's spirit, literally burning her. The Body, in all her loving glory, who she can remember… mostly, but not entirely why. My poor trauma baby sitting in the bed she made.

The moment where Harrow, or perhaps Gideon, thinks that John can see "the Body" but it's a trick of the eye still gets me though. What would John give to see Alecto? What would he do if he did? Well, I suppose say "good morning" given the end of Nona, but you know what I mean. It's only a matter of time until we find out at least.

And, of course, Alecto appearing with a sword. She understood, on some level, what she made herself for him. A cavalier. She loves him still. I think nobody can be all bad if Alecto loves them. (Which is why Nona's reaction to Ianthe delights me so.)

I don't think we got any confirmation that those five hundred or so people had made it to the Ninth ahead of Nona's finale, did we? Never thought about that discrepancy before, and definitely didn't notice it the only time I read Nona on release day.

I know a LOT of people in the fandom really hate John, think he's an irredeemable villain. And, I can't fault any of the reasons why they jump to that conclusion. Just look at his manipulation of Harrow in chapter 2, the self-effacing, "Nooo, don't kneel to me, if you knew the whole truth you'd probably hit me instead." Still… I want to believe this is going somewhere better than that.

"Number Six had better be dead, because Cyrus won't be coming back." Did the ultramassive black hole keep Cyrus's soul, in such a way that John couldn't retrieve it?

Alecto the spirit's voice, with the "uncanny echo" of other voices… I see so much of the setup for Nona this time around.

I'm still inordinately proud that I figured out the lobotomy and Gideon this early. I don't want to lead anyone too hard if I have first time readers in the posts… but it's COMPLETELY fair to start to make guesses when John stumbles over Harrow saying Ortus instead of Gideon. As soon as G1deon showed up I knew, not the entirety of Dios Apate Major obviously, but I definitely knew that "ORTUS" was who Gideon's mother was yelling at/for.

I'm sure the POV use in Harrow is significant at all times, but chapter 3 puts a wrench in all my theories about how and why. It's third-person, but not in the River-bubble, which is the only other time third-person is used in Harrow. I can't explain WHY this bothers me in the post or even draw too much attention to it but it does, in fact, bother me greatly now that I've noticed it.

I'm still mad in the fun way that Muir threw us such a red herring in "She was the eighty-seventh Nona of her House". The nerve! The cheek! Never stop! <3

The lengths to which Harrow went to avoid killing Gideon, to avoid a world without her in it. Every dang time, y'all. Gets me right in the feels. I am, however, rather annoyed at Gideon for seeing the letter, maybe seeing everything, and still believing Harrow wanted to be rid of her rather than that she couldn't bear to live without her. Oh, kids.

[writemywaytoyourheart]

Aim For The Heart | Chapter 16: Heartstrings

Pairing: hitman!jungkook x female reader

Genre: romance, drama, angst, fluff

WC: 7.3k

Warnings for this chapter: strong language, teenage heartbreak :(, two bumbling fools that are emotionally constipated, I think that’s it

summary; Jeon Jungkook is an infamous hitman, known for his inability to fail at whatever job is thrown his way. At least, up until now. Y/n, a kind-hearted and full of life teacher, is his newest target. Jeon isn’t sure who would put a hit on this seemingly innocent girl, but fortunately, that isn’t his problem. All he has to do is pull the trigger.

Previous > Next

6 years ago:

"Mina, I'm so nervous!"

Mina laughs lightly at the way you bounce up and down on your bed, "It'll be fine, ____! He'll totally like you back, girl don't even worry about it!"

You let out a nervous giggle as you jump off your bed and run to your closet, "What should I wear?" 

"____, you literally have a school uniform," Mina laughs again. 

You turn and pout at her, "Heyy, I know that! I was asking which one I should wear, the burgundy socks or the white ones? Tie or no tie? Blazer or no blazer? Long-sleeved or short?"

Mina shakes her head in amusement, "You're cute and he'll think so no matter what you wear," She rubs her chin in thought, "But definitely the white socks, the burgundy tie with the grey sweater vest instead of the blazer, and long sleeves."

You do a little dancy dance of excitement before grabbing the decided clothes out of your closet and hurrying to pull them on. Mina is already dressed in her uniform, waiting patiently as she sits on your bed. 

When you're all ready to go, you grab the little box on your bedside table and run out of your room, causing Mina to stumble after you. 

_______

By the time lunch rolls around, you're buzzing with excitement at the prospect of getting to see him. 

Not to mention being able to finally tell him how you feel. 

Mina is by your side the whole way to your locker as you grab the little box out. 

She nudges your shoulder as you two walk to the cafeteria, "You can do this, ____."

You nod, your tummy all in knots to the point that you're not sure if you'll even be able to eat. 

Despite that, you finish everything on your tray while your legs bounce in anticipation. 

Once you two make your way outside to the field, you are trying your hardest not to hightail it back inside. Mina holds your arm though, preventing you from doing so. 

"You can't back out now, babe."

Mina's words terrify you but you know she's telling the truth, you can't just go on without at least trying. 

A bunch of kids are milling around outside, some of the boys showing off to the girls as they size how tall they are compared to each other.

Then you see him, in all his glory. 

He's standing in the field with a few other boys from his class, chatting. 

His dark blonde hair glistens in the sunlight as he laughs at something one of his friends said. 

You feel your heart leap to your throat and you freeze, "I- I can't..."

"____," Mina turns to you, placing her hands on your shoulders, "I am not about to let you give up now, not right before you do it! Just go over there. If you can't speak, then just hand it to him, simple as that. He'll understand when he opens it anyway."

You nod stiffly, "What about his friends?" Your voice shakes, "I'm scared to do it in front of them."

Mina nods, "I got this." 

You're about to protest but she's gone, already marching her way over to them. 

You watch in embarrassment as Mina taps one of the boys on the shoulder. He turns and smiles when he sees her. Mina is gorgeous, of course he'd smile when she spoke to him. 

You're really her only friend, as she is yours, but the boys are constantly swarming around her nonetheless. 

You start to feel self-conscious when you see the boy making your heart thump heavily look at Mina and smile brightly. 

Shoot, what if he likes her?

You can't compare to her. 

Besides, she's your best friend, you'd give him up for her if she wanted him.

You'd do anything for her. 

You snap out of it when you see Mina leading the two boys that were with him away, then she gestures at you behind her back. 

You force your feet to move as you hurry over to him before he moves on to talk with someone else. 

Just as he's turning, you're coming up. 

He almost bumps into you, a surprised gasp slipping from his lips as he notices you. 

"Oh, sorry! I didn't see you there."

You smile crookedly, "It's- It's fine!" You squeak out. 

His smile widens as he looks at you, "You're ____, right? Tenth grade?" 

You nod like a darn bobblehead, your words suddenly stuck in your throat. 

He's so handsome. 

And cute. 

And sweet. 

And thoughtful.

And-

"I'm Jimin," He reaches a hand out to you, "It's nice to officially meet you."

You take his hand, letting him shake it as his bright smile continues to beam. 

"I know, um," You need to get it together, "You're in eleventh."

He nods, "Yes, only one and a half years left of these ridiculous uniforms," He chuckles. 

You nod stupidly, "Uh, yeah," A nervous laugh slips from your mouth.

Just do it, rip it off like a band-aid.

"I uh- I have something for you."

He looks at you with curiosity, his pretty eyes glancing down to the box in your hands. 

Then his smile fades. 

Your heart stops in your chest when you see the look of recognition on his face. 

He's been confessed to before, of course he has. 

Your shoulders slump. 

You just want the ground to open up and swallow you. 

He looks back up at you and gives you a gentle smile. 

The smile of rejection. 

"____, you're really sweet-"

Oh, no. 

"I would say yes in a heartbeat, really. You're different from the other girls here, you care about people, I can tell. I've seen it-"

"But?" Your voice comes out as a whisper.

His smile turns sad, "But there's a girl I like already. I'm sorry, ____."

It feels like someone just tore out your heart and stomped it into the ground. 

You don't say anything. 

You can't. 

It hurts too much. 

You just open the box and pull out the note, tucking it into your palm before closing the box again and handing it to him. 

Jimin takes it reluctantly, still watching you carefully, his eyes sad and regretful.

"____-"

"I hope you like the cookies," You smile at him, finally meeting his eyes, "Just think of it as a friendship gift, nothing more."

Jimin nods, still looking guilty as hell. 

"I hope it works out for you Jimin, I really do."

"Thank you, ____."

Then you turn and walk away, pieces of your heart falling behind you with each step you take. 

A minute later you hear Mina calling to you, but you don't stop. 

You hurry inside and to the locker rooms. 

You're hiding in a stall when you hear the door to the girls' locker room open and Mina's voice call out, "____, are you in here?"

You don't answer and a moment later the door shuts, leaving you alone with your thoughts.

You curl up, pulling your knees to your chest as the tears finally come.

You wish you could just disappear. 

The thought that you need to see him the rest of this school year and the next before he leaves is sickening. 

Your heart has never hurt more than it does now, it feels like a bunch of swords are impaling it over and over again. 

Fourth grade. 

You had liked him since you were in fourth grade, he was in sixth. 

It was the day that you had tripped and spilled your lunch tray all over yourself. 

This angel had appeared, pulling you to your feet with the brightest smile you'd ever seen. He had taken you to get another uniform in the office and even got you another tray of food. 

He only ever said hello in passing after that, but you were infatuated. 

You thought you had loved him. 

Another sob cuts through the silence in the locker room as you realize you don't want it anymore.

You hope you never fall for anyone again. 

Love is just a terrible joke, made to hurt the weakest, the ones that fall for it.

________________

"____?" 

The handsome man standing before you makes your heart lurch.

What kind of joke is this?

You take a step back and clear your throat, "P-P-Park J-Jimin?"

His smile returns as he lets out a small laugh of disbelief, "You remember me?"

You nod reluctantly. 

Jimin looks into your eyes just like he did that one day in elementary school, an angel appearing out of nowhere to save you. 

"But, how?" He asks, clearly bewildered, "After the accident, you never..."

You suddenly realize you're standing there like an idiot, so you open the door wider and gesture for him to come in. 

He walks in and sets the pizza you ordered on your kitchen table. 

"D-Do you have t-t-time to talk?" You ask bravely. 

Jimin nods, "Of course."

You two end up on the couch, an awkward silence falling around you. 

You can't look him in the eyes because every time you do, he's just staring at you like you're the lost puppy he'd been looking for for years. 

"It's been so long," Jimin says quietly, "It's been like six years since we actually spoke."

You nod, "The d-d-day you rejected me." 

When you look up at him he looks heartbroken, so you give him a small smile, "I'm j-just giving you a hard t-t-time."

Jimin nods sadly, "I'm so confused. I just- I thought you had forgotten me after you were in the hospital..."

You say nothing so he continues, "No, you did. You did forget about me, I tried talking to you and-"

"I know," You whisper, "I'm s-s-sorry Jimin, but I lied."

That makes him freeze.

"You and M-Mina were the only two I r-r-really remembered."

It's silent for a minute, then he whispers, hurt, "But why?"

You look back at him, "It h-h-hurt too much to talk to y-you. I'm sorry."

Jimin nods sadly, "Don't apologize, I understand. But, how did you remember me?"

You laugh, embarrassed, "I had k-kind of been in l-l-love with you since elementary s-school."

Jimin's eyes bulge out of his head, "What?"

"Yeah, since w-we met. After you had h-h-helped me clean the mess I made." Jimin looks lost for a minute, then his eyes light up with recognition, "Oh! Oh, really?"

You nod, another laugh slipping out. 

"So, you didn't lose your memory of me...because you still had your memories from elementary school?"

Another nod.

"But then, how did you remember me rejecting you?" The words taste bitter in his mouth.

You shrug, "I don't know, I j-j-just did. A few th-things came b-back to me after leaving the h-hospital."

"I'm sorry that had to be one of them," Jimin whispers. 

"It's o-okay, you had n-no obligation to like me b-back," You take a deep breath, already feeling better after getting that off your chest, "Whatever h-happened to the girl y-y-you had liked? Did you a-ask her out?" 

Jimin nods with a sad smile, "Yeah."

"A-And?"

"We dated until college...then I found out she cheated on me and we broke up."

Your heart breaks at that, "J-Jimin, I'm so-sorry."

"Don't be, it was for the best."

You sit in more silence for a bit, but this time it feels more comfortable. 

Then Jimin speaks up again, "So what are you up to these days, ____? Any special man in your life?" He wiggles his eyebrows at you jokingly. 

You laugh, "I am a k-k-kindergarten t-teacher."

Jimin's eyes light up, "Really? Congratulations, ____. You seriously deserve it."

"Th-Thank you. And w-what about you?"

Jimin sighs and gestures at his outfit, "Clearly I'm not as successful as you," You laugh and shake your head as he continues, "I'm just working this delivery job until I get my foot in the door for some journalist positions."

Your eyes grow wide, "R-Really?"

He nods, "I've always wanted to be a reporter, a journalist, something like that. It's a lot harder than it looks though."

You nod, "W-Well I'm rooting for y-you."

"Thank you," He smiles warmly at you, "You were always the sweetest."

You blush at that and Jimin continues, "You never answered my previous question," He squints at you playfully as he points at you, "Any special guys?"

You're about to shake your head, then Jungkook pops into your brain. 

His dark eyes penetrating your thoughts, his rosebud lips sneaking into your mind. 

Jimin sees you hesitate and a knowing smile grows on his face, "Ah-ha! There is someone!"

You look at him, blushing profusely, "Th-There isn't-"

"Liar!" Jimin cackles, clapping his hands, "You are so in love!"

His words startle you, "I'm n-not! It isn't l-like that."

Jimin wipes at the gleeful tears in his eyes as he leans closer to you, inspecting your face carefully. 

"I know that look, ____. You're smitten."

You splutter, "I-I-I am n-not smitten!"

Jimin smirks at you and you fight the urge to smack him.

Then he glances around your living room, "It's beautiful in here, did you decorate it yourself?"

You nod proudly, glad he's changed the subject. 

You two make small talk for a few more minutes, just catching up on life. 

Then Jimin looks at his watch, "Shit, I gotta go. Bossman will be livid with me for taking so long," He stands up and you follow him to the door. 

"Thanks for having me, ____. It was wonderful to catch up with you."

You smile brightly, "I'm s-s-so glad that we were able to m-meet again."

Jimin gives you one last smile as he walks out the door, but before you can close it, he turns around, "Do you..."

You raise an eyebrow in question. 

"Do you think we could meet up again sometime? Grab a coffee or something?"

You nod happily, "I w-w-would love that."

You end up exchanging numbers before he hurries on his way. 

Closing the door, a huge smile spreads on your face. 

Park Jimin. 

Your first love. 

Delivering a pizza to your door. 

Who would've thought?

After a moment to process, you start to giggle uncontrollably. 

What the heck just happened?

_____________

Jungkook is jogging up the stairs leading to your apartment when a pizza delivery guy comes down at the same time. 

He smiles at Jungkook and moves past him. 

Thinking nothing of it, Jungkook hurries to your door and knocks three times, waiting anxiously. 

The door opens rather quickly like you'd been standing there. 

"Ji- oh..."

Your eyes are wide as you stare at Jungkook.

He gives you a small smile, "Um, hi."

He sees you swallow thickly as you observe him, it takes you a minute to respond.

"H-Hi."

Jungkook bites his lip, not sure how to go about saying what he wants to say next. 

"W-What are y-you doing here?" You beat him to it. 

The way you say it makes his stomach turn a little. 

When he doesn't respond, you sigh and reach up to rub your tired eyes, "J-Jungkook..."

He wishes he could say something, anything. 

But it's like every single word he's ever known is suddenly gone out of his brain and he knows nothing. 

You look so sleepy, the events from the past week are probably weighing on you right now.

Jungkook thinks as his gaze drifts over your exhausted face, his heart pulling apart in his chest as Mina's story comes barreling back into his mind. 

After another beat of silence, Jungkook finally finds his voice and you decide to be honest with him at the same time. 

"____, will you go somewhere with me-"

"J-Jungkook I'm t-tired of th-this-"

You both shut up and look at the other. 

Jungkook's heart sinks in his chest at your words. 

Your own heart feels like someone is poking at it with a sharp stick. 

"What?" Jungkook whispers.

You cover your face with your hands, "I- I j-just..."

"Can I come in? Please?" Jungkook asks hopefully, wanting to correct things before shit hits the fan.

You nod and open the door wider for him to slip inside. 

He immediately notices the pizza box on the table and his mind wanders back to the guy passing him earlier. He lets it go as he stands there, waiting for you to shut the door. 

You do, then you walk over to the couch and plop down, curling your legs up and tucking them near you as you grab a pillow and hold it tightly to your chest. 

Jungkook takes a few very deep and very calming breaths before walking over to the couch to sit down. 

He needs to just keep breathing, or else he'll mess shit up again with his stupidity. 

You fidget quietly as Jungkook stares at the Barbie movies in the glass cabinet under the TV. He doesn't know why he can't seem to look away from them. 

"She just finds comfort in things like coloring, watching movies, eating sweets. Her brain was damaged, badly. But it's gotten so much better since then, she's made so much progress. She might act like a kid sometimes, but she isn't one and doesn’t think she is. ____ was innocent before and she's innocent now-"

Jungkook's breath hitches as he remembers Mina's words. 

"Did y-you speak t-to M-Mina?" 

Jungkook turns to you when you speak up quietly, noticing the way you won't even look at him. Your eyes are locked on the pillow in front of you as you pick at the loose threads. 

"Yeah," He mumbles back. 

You finally raise your eyes to his, "I- I think you sh-should leave."

Jungkook's heart stutters painfully. 

"____, I need to talk to you."

"A-About what?"

"I-..." What does he say? He needs to get you out of here, he's run out of time, "I know this sounds dumb, but would you go somewhere with me? Just for a little bit."

You just stare at him, your eyes reflecting a pain he's never seen in you before, even after he was horrible to you in the rain, even after his dumb ass forced you to go home and ruined your day. 

This pain is a first. 

He shifts his body towards you more, "____, what's going on? Are you oka-"

"No."

He freezes, his mind short-circuiting at your bitter response. 

"No, I'm n-not. I'm n-n-not okay."

You can see the way his eyes flicker back and forth between yours and it makes your heart race. 

You can't handle this. 

You don't like pain, you don't like it. 

You always run from it. 

Maybe you are just a child. 

More reason to put an end to this anyway. 

The insecurities swarming your head finally come out, in an angry huff of air, startling Jungkook when you stand up abruptly, still gripping the pillow. 

"I n-n-need you to leave."

Jungkook stands up too, his tall frame looming over you and making you look down at the ground.

"I can't," He mutters.

Your eyes trail up to his, anger burning in them. 

Why is life so unfair?

Why can't someone just like you, for you? 

Why does reality always have to come and bite you in the butt?

"Go to M-Mina," You seethe. 

Jungkook looks at you like you're crazy, his mind going in circles trying to figure out what the hell you're talking about.

"____, what?"

"You h-h-heard me," You swallow the lump in your throat. 

Curse this stupid stutter. 

You can't even tell someone something and be taken seriously. 

Jungkook shakes his head slowly, his confused gaze locked on your angered one. 

"Why would I want to go to her?"

You scoff, making Jungkook take a step back to observe you in disbelief. 

What happened to you?

Were you really that mad about him asking you for her number? He didn't need it because he liked that brat, he needed it because he needs to save you. 

But you don't know that. 

How could he expect you to?

"Just...get o-out," Your voice is thick with tears. 

Jungkook shakes his head again and takes a step towards you, his hand stretched out. 

But you step back, away from him. 

"Stop h-h-hurting me!" You suddenly raise your voice. It isn't anywhere near a yell but it shocks him enough. You never raise your voice...

"I'm sorry-"

You close your eyes and take a long breath as if to calm yourself down. 

"I kn-know you like M-Mina. Don't m-make me hurt anymore by h-having to let go while y-y-you're standing right in f-front of me!"

Jungkook steps forward and grabs your hand, but you don't open your eyes. 

You dare not look at him. 

Not ever again. 

Or you'll break. 

You love Mina more than anything, you'd do anything for her. 

That's why she was always pushing you away from Jungkook. 

She likes him. 

And of course, he likes her back.

The pain in your heart is causing your breath to shorten. 

If you look at him now, you won't have the strength to give him up for her. 

"____, I swear I don't like her-"

It isn't true.

"I just needed to ask her something!"

Stop trying to spare me the pain, just leave me alone. 

"____, please look at me," Jungkook pleads. 

No. 

You shake your head, keeping your eyes closed tight. 

Jungkook sighs in exasperation, "I had to ask her about your accident!!"

At that, your watery eyes slowly open. 

Jungkook breathes a sigh of relief when he sees your beautiful eyes land on him. 

Then you take your hand out of his and he feels his next breath stutter.

"What?" You whisper. 

The words get caught in his throat for a second before he's able to shove them out, "I had to ask her about Kihyun, and the accident...I'm sorry I didn't tell you, but I swear ____, I don't like her like that. Hell, I don't like her at all! Not to mention she hates my guts!"

Your jaw clenches and Jungkook wants to just beg you to listen to him, to please not be mad and just listen to him. 

"I w-was in a c-c-car accident..."

Jungkook does a double-take at your words. 

"What d-d-d-does that have t-to do with you or Kihyun? How is th-that any of your business?!"

Jungkook just stares at you as your face turns red, "I w-want you to leave me alone p-please. Stop playing w-with my h-heart and running out on m-me."

Jungkook feels like he's about to explode. 

With anger, sadness, regret, and this weird protective stuffy feeling he gets when he's around you.

"I'm sorry-"

"And I f-forgave you."

He flinches at that. 

"But an empty a-apology means n-nothing, J-Jungkook."

"It-...It isn't empty. ____, I know I'm stupid, I'm a grade A idiot! A fucking moron! But I never meant to hurt you by running out, I just- I panicked..." He's fumbling over his words, not even understanding what he's trying to say at this moment. 

"W-Why would you g-go behind my back to t-talk about me?! Why not j-just come to me??"

"I didn't think you-"

"Didn't think I r-remembered it?"

Your voice is bitter, laced with hurt. 

Jungkook nods slowly. 

You scoff, "Y-You're right, I d-d-don't. I had to rely on M-Mina to tell me that m-my family died in a c-c-car crash and I w-was the only one that survived."

His chest hurts. 

"Did y-you want to m-make fun of m-me? Figure out exactly w-why I sp-sp-speak like a fr-freak? Why everyone t-t-treats me like a ch-child?"

Jungkook's brows furrow, "Why on earth would you ever think something like that?"

"B-Because I'm n-not like you, J-Jungkook. You c-could get any g-g-girl that you want, but I w-was stupid enough to th-think it would be-...never m-mind."

Jungkook's brain is racing, he has no idea what you're getting at. 

He doesn't understand what the hell girls are thinking or trying to say. 

He knows he's an idiot, he doesn't know how to fix that. 

But he needs to fix this. 

And quickly. 

He steps forward to grab your hands again, but this time you don't pull away, "____, I never meant to make you think I was using you to get to Mina if that's how you feel. I wasn't. I needed Mina to tell me because I was worried about you, I swear," His voice is firm. 

You look at him, unsure. 

Jungkook sighs, "I didn't go to you because I thought that you wouldn't remember, but more so because I didn't want to hurt you further if you did. I didn't want to stir up anything that you'd want to put away. I realize now that that was shitty of me to go behind your back, I should've come to you first, it was your story to tell. I'm sorry."

You blink, taken aback by how honest and sincere he seems right now. 

You'd been hurting from all the running away and ignoring you and all that he's been doing recently. 

This is the first time it feels like he's actually taking you seriously. 

You bring your eyes up to his, "I'm s-s-sorry for lashing o-out. I have f-f-feelings like every-yone else and I w-was hurt."

Jungkook nods, "It's okay, I'm sorry too." His deep brown eyes search yours carefully as you continue, "You c-c-can like Mina, I-I-I underst-stand. She's b-beautiful..."

Jungkook takes you by surprise when he starts to chuckle. You look at him curiously, "W-Why are you l-l-laughing?"

Jungkook gently lets go of your hands, making you miss the warmth of them instantly. 

He brings his hands up to run through his hair, "I can't believe you think I'd fall for Mina."

You scowl, "Why w-wouldn't you?"

Jungkook lets out an amused scoff, "She's not my type."

"Oh, y-yeah? What i-is your type then?" 

He looks at you and you make eye contact for a second before your gaze darts away. Jungkook keeps his eyes on you for a moment longer. 

"Wouldn't you like to know?" Jungkook says teasingly, noting that your cheeks turn pink as you shake your head in denial, "I d-d-don't care."

He laughs lightly and you feel your heart lift in your chest. 

A minute passes in silence as the two of you try to think of what to say next.

You're a bit embarrassed about your outburst, but you know he understands. 

You were valid in your feelings and he seems genuinely sorry for everything.

Jungkook's head is in a completely different place, trying to go about how to ask you to leave Seoul with him. 

This is ridiculous, you'll never agree.

You watch as Jungkook's eyes dart around the room as if he's trying to figure something out. 

"Y-You okay?" You ask, a bit worried. 

Jungkook looks up, his eyes finding yours. 

Just do it, Jeon. 

Don't be a wuss.

"Will you leave Seoul with me?"

He blurts it out, figuring he'll chicken out if he doesn't. 

Your eyes widen and you're shocked into silence for a good minute. 

When the initial shock leaves you, you blink a few times. 

Jungkook just stands there stupidly. 

"Um..."

He winces at your hesitation although it was inevitable. 

"...w-why?"

Damn it, he knew you'd ask, you'd be stupid not to. 

He needs to make something up, fast. 

"This- this seems like the worst timing possible... But I was...invited to uhm, to a thing, a thing in uhm, in Busan. It's like uh, a uh, a school reunion? Thing? Kind of? It's uh...."

Fuck he's a bumbling idiot. 

Before he can make a bigger fool out of himself, you burst into laughter. 

His chest feels lighter at the sound.

Well, at least he made you laugh...

You wipe at your eyes as you double over in laughter, a good contrast to what you were doing a little while ago, so he'll take it. 

Jungkook just stands there, his arms crossed over his broad chest as he watches you make fun of him. 

When you finally catch your breath, you look at him to see him scowling darkly. 

You feel like it would scare anyone else, but it doesn't scare you. 

You poke at his chest, the last of the giggles leaving your lips. 

Jungkook stiffens when you touch him, but he will not let you know that your touch affects him. 

"Are you finished?" He asks, trying to appear unamused. 

You nod, still wiping away the tears of mirth from your eyes. 

"So, w-what you're tr-trying to say is, you want me to go to B-Busan with you for a school r-r-reunion?"

He nods in embarrassment at the silly lie. 

You laugh again, "Well, w-why didn't y-you just say that? I'd l-love to g-g-go with you!"

Well...that was easy. 

Jungkook bites back a smile at the way you shake your head and giggle at him. 

"W-When is it?"

"We'd have to leave tonight...like, you should pack now."

"Oh," You look at him in surprise, "Oh, um. O-Okay...how long w-will we be gone?"

The ridiculous contrast to what was happening a few minutes ago and now is going to give you whiplash. A moment ago you were yelling at him to stop hurting you and now you're agreeing to go to Busan with him... 

What kind of a day was this?

"Uh, I'm not sure, I was hoping to just spend some time there and go sightseeing, maybe?" Jungkook answers your question awkwardly. 

Your warm smile makes him swallow painfully, "I w-would love that. School d-doesn't start for an-another three weeks."

"Perfect," Jungkook nods, "Then it's settled, go pack."

You shriek in excitement and hurry to the back with a little skip to your step, "V-Vacation!"

Jungkook lets out a long breath, his heart skipping a beat at the happy humming floating from your room. 

Thank goodness he was successful in that. 

But what makes him feel even better, is the fact that your beautiful smile is back. 

__________

"Sh-Should I tell Mina?"

Jungkook's grip tenses on the wheel at your words. 

He isn't sure why, but he doesn't want Mina to know where the two of you are going. 

"Nah, I already told her I was going to ask you to come with me. She knows," Jungkook prays that you'll fall for it, biting his lip harshly. 

"Oh," You squeak from the passenger seat. 

He swallows his heart that leapt to his throat at the adorable sound.

You look out the side window, watching as the sun starts to set, your head leaning against the glass. 

"How l-long will it t-t-take us to get there?" You ask quietly, your eyes still glued to the beautiful colors running across the sky. 

Jungkook glances at his phone where the directions are. 

"Mm, since there's hardly any traffic, hopefully four hours?" 

Your eyes widen a little and you make a small sound of acknowledgment. 

"Hm, ok."

Jungkook drags his eyes back to the road, telling himself that he's not allowed to look at you the whole way lest he get distracted and crash the car like a fool.

Jungkook has some soft music playing in the background, making you smile softly to yourself. You didn't think him the type of person to listen to classical instrumental music, but it's nice and relaxing, especially for how tired you are. 

An hour into the drive, you feel your eyes getting extremely heavy. You keep blinking them rapidly to keep yourself awake, but every time you blink it gets harder and harder to open them again. 

Jungkook, as well as he had done the first hour, fails his own rule as he glances at you. 

He had noticed the way you were shifting and jerking around for the past few minutes. 

"Hey, you okay?" Jungkook asks gently before returning his gaze to the road. 

You nod sleepily, a tiny yawn slipping out of you. 

"J-Just a little s-sleepy is all."

A soft smile appears on Jungkook's face and you feel your chest warm at the sight. You can't stop staring at his side profile, the line of his jaw, and his adorably big nose, even his lashes are long and beautiful. 

"You can take a nap you know-"

"Nooo, no no," You wave a hand in the air dismissively, "I'm n-not tired at all!"

Jungkook stifles a laugh at you contradicting yourself within thirty seconds. 

He nods, "Okay, then you don't have to take a nap."

You smile drowsily, appearing almost drunk in a way. 

Jungkook glances at you again. 

Drunk from exhaustion, you most certainly are. 

What a rollercoaster of a day.

He sighs, a gentle sound as he turns back to keep his eyes forward, "You look really sleepy."

"Y-You look really p-pretty..." 

Jungkook, startled at your words, looks at you with wide eyes, "Huh?"

No one has ever called him pretty before...

You have an elbow against the console, your chin in your hand as you gaze up at him dreamily. 

"I'm s-s-sorry I said all th-that mean st-stuff back at my apartment," You whisper, lips turning down into a pout. 

Jungkook fidgets, "It's fine, ____. I deserved to get snapped at."

You shake your head, "Noooo," You say cutely, smacking your lips, "Nooo, you d-deserve th-the whooooooole world!" You gesture out, almost smacking him in the face. 

Jungkook chuckles. 

You're just tired yet you act like you've been drinking nonstop.

"You, J-Jungkook, you d-deserve to a...a? A h-hug."

He feels a pinching in his chest at your words.

"Thanks, ____." 

You nod, your head lolling to the side as you start to drift off to sleep again, then you jerk suddenly as you remember something. 

"M-My first love!"

Jungkook looks at you, bewildered.

"He-...b-brought it to me..."

Jungkook arches an eyebrow at you, "Who brought what to you, ____?"

"An angel brought m-me food t-today!"

Jungkook nods along with your nonsensical rambling, "That's cool," He muses as he passes a car on the highway.

"Yeahh..." 

After that, you fall silent. 

He glances over at you after you haven't spoken for a few minutes, to see your head resting against the seat, your mouth open slightly as you sleep soundly. 

He fights the smile that's creeping its way onto his face, trying as hard as he can to pay attention to the road. 

Jungkook reaches up a hand and slaps it across his face, harder than he had meant to. 

He winces in pain, but at least it got him to think straight. 

Jungkook keeps his eyes on the road (mostly) the rest of the way. 

It's kind of lonely with you sleeping beside him, but he doesn't really mind.

  It's around one in the morning when Jungkook gently shakes your shoulder. 

You stir, your eyes opening into little slits as you look around in confusion. 

"W-Where am I?" You ask, mumbling almost incoherently. 

"We're here, ____. We're in Busan," Jungkook says softly, his hand still on your shoulder. 

Once you're able to open your eyes all the way, you see the inside of Jungkook's car, then you turn your head to the right to see him standing outside your door, holding it open as he smiles at you. 

"Oh," You say in surprise, "I f-forgot we were on v-vacation."

Jungkook chuckles at that, "Come on, ____. Let's get you to bed."

He reaches around you to unbuckle your seat belt, then you watch quietly as he grabs your purse and slings it over his shoulder. 

Next, he grabs your hand and helps you out of the car. 

You take in the sight of a small motel, very simple, very dark, and very very cute. 

Jungkook watches your eyes light up at the place you'll be staying tonight. 

"It's s-so cute," You whisper sleepily. 

Jungkook shrugs, "I've never considered a motel to be cute before, but it's decent."

You keep a hold of his hand as you climb out of the car, then you shyly let go and follow him to the trunk where he pulls out both of your suitcases. 

"I can c-carry something," You offer as you see him start moving with both of the cases to the front of the motel. 

Jungkook shakes his head, his floofy brown hair flopping about, "I'm all good."

You bite back a laugh at the sight of him wheeling two suitcases with a purse slung over his arm, then you hurry to catch up to him. 

Inside, there's a very small old man at the front desk, reading a newspaper. 

He looks up when you and Jungkook walk in. 

A friendly smile graces his features as he sets the paper down, "Hello there, how can I help you?"

"Hi," Jungkook clears his throat, "I called about two rooms earlier today...well, I guess it was technically yesterday..."

The man nods and grabs this little notebook, "Perfect! Name?"

"Uhm...Jungkook, Jeon Jungkook,” He says lowly. 

Ohhhh, Jeon?

Even his last name suits him. 

You see him fidgeting a little as the older man flips through the notebook, "Ah yes! Right here."

Then he turns to grab a key out of a little cabinet, "Your rooms will be one twenty-three and one twenty-two-"

He pauses, his hand freezing over an empty cubby in the cabinet. 

"Uhm...one moment."

He shuffles behind a little curtain leading to a different room. 

Jungkook looks back at you with a puzzled expression and you shrug, you don't have any idea what's going on either. 

A minute later the man comes out with a regretful look on his face. 

"I'm so sorry, Mr. Jeon. It would appear as though someone accidentally gave your rooms away without looking at the reservations," The man looks terribly guilty. 

Jungkook bites his lip, "Uhm, alright, well can I get two other rooms then?"

The man nods quickly and ruffles through his notebook, then he looks at Jungkook again. 

"We only have one room available. I sincerely apologize, this was my mistake-"

"Don't worry about it," Jungkook gives him a tight-lipped smile, "We'll take it. Thank you."

After getting your key, you and Jungkook walk out to find your room, not speaking until you get there. 

Once Jungkook unlocks the door and opens it for you, he gives you an embarrassed smile, "Sorry, ____. I would take us somewhere else but it's late and-...I'll sleep on the floor."

You turn to him, "D-Don't be silly. We'll both sl-sleep on a bed."

He looks at you, bewildered, then his gaze follows your outstretched arm as you point at the bed. 

Or...

The beds. 

AH! A MIRACLE!

Jungkook sighs in relief, letting the door close behind him as he sets your suitcases to the side. 

"Well this isn't so bad," He says as he looks around the room, taking in the twin beds with satisfaction. 

Then he looks at you to see you gazing around in wonder, gently touching the bed and making your way over to the bathroom to peek your head inside. 

When you turn back to him, your eyes are lit up like stars in the night sky. 

"It's b-beautiful!" 

Jungkook does one more look over.

There are twin beds with white covers and pillows, a nightstand between them and  TV on a desk in front along with a coffee machine and glass mugs. 

Meh, it's not a crappy place, he's been in far worse, but he's also been in far better. 

Then something clicks and he looks at you again, "Wait, have you never been to a hotel- or- a motel before?"

You shake your head, your innocent eyes never leaving his. 

Jungkook lets out a short laugh of disbelief, "Huh."

You walk over to your suitcase and grab it, pulling it with you to the bathroom, "I'm g-going to change."

"Uh-huh," Jungkook says, still trying to process the fact that you've never stayed in a place like this before. 

When he hears the bathroom door close, he walks over to his suitcase and opens it up, grabbing out a t-shirt and some pajama shorts. 

He makes quick work of changing, then he settles on the left bed, a groan leaving his lips as he lays back. 

A moment later, the door to the bathroom opens and Jungkook sees you walk out shyly, a simple lilac nightgown draping around your frame. 

He looks away quickly, fixing his gaze on the black screen of the television positioned in front of the twin beds. 

You hurry over and climb into the bed on the right, slipping underneath the covers and sighing happily. 

"Th-These beds are s-so comfy!"

Jungkook hums in response, his eyes still glued to the TV even though it's off.

You pull the covers up to your chin and close your eyes, letting out a tiny yawn. 

At the sound, Jungkook's resolution crumbles and he glances over at you. 

The way your eyelids flutter and your lips part slightly as you breathe makes his heart beat rapidly. 

Suddenly, your eyes pop open and you're staring right back at him.

He was so startled when it happened that he didn't even look away, instead, his gaze stays locked on yours, eyes wide. 

It feels like an eternity passes as the two of you just stare at each other, but it's really only a few seconds. 

Long enough for Jungkook's heart to be in his throat and your tummy to start tickling. 

Then you whisper, "I w-was just going to a-ask you to turn out the l-light."

A choked breath escapes Jungkook as he snaps his gaze away from yours. 

"Oh, yeah sure." 

Without looking at you, he reaches over to the table between your beds and flips the light off. 

It's silent for a little bit, then Jungkook hears you whisper in the darkness, "I'm sorry a-about earlier."

"You already apologized, and I told you there was no need to."

You sigh and shift onto your back, "When is th-the school reunion?"

Jungkook internally groans, "It's in a few days."

"W-Why did we have t-to leave so quickly?"

Jungkook moves to his right side, so he's facing you in the darkness, but he can't make you out. 

"I wanted to be sure we got a place to stay before it all filled up."

"Ah, okay."

Fuck, he hates lying to you so easily. 

The fact that you have full trust in him is making him sick to his stomach. 

But at least he got you here. 

He's gotten you out of Seoul. 

That buys him a bit more time to figure out who the hell placed the hit on you. 

Then he'll take matters into his own hands. 

After a few minutes, Jungkook is sure you've fallen asleep again, so it takes him by surprise when you speak up. 

"What is y-your favorite flower?"

"Uhm, I'm not sure...I don't know that many flowers," Jungkook replies, his eyes still closed. 

You giggle, "My f-favorite is the a-almond flower."

Jungkook nods thoughtfully, then he realizes that you can't see him so he clears his throat, "Ah, what does that one look like?"

"It's little and w-white with a h-hint of pink in the middle. V-Very cute."

Jungkook smiles, "Sounds very fitting for you."

Your cheeks heat up as you cuddle more into the covers, "Do y-you want to know th-the meaning of it?" You whisper. 

He finally opens his eyes, but all he can see is darkness, "Sure."

He suddenly remembers your letter to him after you visited the field of dandelions. 

What did you say the dandelion represented again? Oh yeah, hope and happiness...or something like that...

"It m-means h-hope and renewal."

Jungkook hears you shifting a little to get comfortable. 

"That's nice," He says gently, "I guess the little simple ones tend to represent hope, huh?"

You positively beam, realizing that he must have remembered your letter to him about the dandelion. 

"I g-guess so."

Jungkook turns onto his back, staring up at the ceiling. 

Before he can back out, he asks, "What does the lotus flower represent?"

"Is th-that your f-favorite?"

Jungkook blinks a few times before answering you, "It was my mother's."

You sit up and look over at him curiously, wondering if something had happened to her with the way his voice sounded and the fact that he used past tense. 

"Oh...w-well I happen t-to know that one," You lay back down, "It m-means enlightenment and r-rebirth."

Huh. 

How ironic.

"Ah," Is all he says. 

You lay there in silence for a little bit, then you remember something that you had wanted to tell him. 

"Oh y-yeah, I had the w-weirdest dream the other day."

"Mm? What was it?" 

"I w-was laying in a f-field of flowers. Purple f-flowers-"

Jungkook's brain suddenly snaps to attention at your words, "What did they look like?" He asks abruptly, interrupting you. 

"Uh, they w-were some of m-my favorite flowers, they're c-called Agapanthus."

"Agapi- what?" Jungkook asks, face scrunched in confusion. 

You laugh and blindly reach for your phone on the nightstand. 

Jungkook looks over to see a blue light illuminating your face as you look at your phone and his breath gets caught in his throat. 

Fuck.

Don't be stupid, Jungkook. 

He looks away quickly.

"H-Here," You stand up and waddle over to his bed, plopping yourself down on the side of it and jostling him a bit. Jungkook swallows thickly at the close proximity all of the sudden. 

You hold your phone close to his face, watching as he squints at the picture of the flower you were talking about. 

"A-Agapanthus," You state again, smiling. 

But Jungkook barely hears you, he's frozen, staring at the picture in your hand.

That's the flower that was in his dream the other day. 

The field was full of them. 

"Anyw-way, I w-was lying there. It w-was so vivid. Th-Then I realized I was h-holding someone's hand-"

Jungkook can't tear his eyes away from your phone, his heartbeat increasing the more of your story you tell. 

"I c-could tell it w-was a guy's hand, b-but I couldn't turn my head to see who it was."

His eyes finally drift from your phone up to your face where you're sporting a faint pout. 

He doesn't know what possesses him to ask, all he registers are the shaky words suddenly coming from his mouth, "What's the meaning of this flower?"

Your gaze shifts to his and you smile softly, "L-Love."

__________________________________

a/n: jk is a damned fool, who’s with me.

Tag list; @hopekookies @moonchild1 @barbellastyles98 @teresaisla @ggukkieland @mwitsmejk @scuzmunkie @jaebeomsblackgf @sugaslittlekookies @moon-asia @bangtannie7 @yoonchrisgull @njkbangtan @higashikatasgf @jksbbyfacebunny @sweetonkookieandtae @voidswan-recs @sadxaries @bts-junseagull @jinfused @taehyungiev13 @gaeguuliii @kimnamjoonluvbot @jungkooook @mutterseelenalleinn @surilirani @patpus @yukiehyukie @crypticsabbat @ohyeahjk @steffiiirose @the-falling-star @telepathytae @erenkook ​ 

[bucks-metal-arm19]

Nightmares and Love-Making

Paring: Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Daddy kink, talk of nightmares, cursing, voyeurism, dirty talk, face sitting, squirting, slight praise kink, slight degradation, unprotected sex, let me know if I missed anything! 

18+ only!

Word Count: 2.4k

A/N: Welcome to my first Bucky Barnes one-shot! This stems from the fact that I couldn't find the smut I wanted so I just wrote it myself. I hope you like it! As always, it isn't looked over so all mistakes are my own :)

You caught him at a bad time- in the middle of what seemed to be a horrific nightmare as he slept on his makeshift bed on the floor. You knew he couldn't sleep in his normal bed in his normal bedroom, and you knew that the king-sized mattress was still adorned with the solid black fabric set you had gotten for him as his first official birthday present. He told you, one night as the two of you escaped to the roof of Stark tower, that the bed made him feel like he was getting swallowed alive. He was used to sleeping on a solid floor, with the thinnest blanket one could find and so that's what he did at his own home. home- he was still getting used to even having a home. 

“Buck? Bucky, wake up! It’s a dream, just a dream! JAMES, WAKE UP!” You hollered, having dropped your stuff at the door and running to collapse on your knees next to the man as you urged him to wake up. 

“Wh-what? J-just a dream?” He had finally quit shaking, and became coherent enough to realize that he was no longer at the HYDRA base, and was, in fact, in his own apartment with you holding him close to your chest. 

“Yes, just a dream. I promise, you’re okay.” His fingers were clutching the arm you had draped across his midsection and you knew that his vibranium fingers would be leaving imprints on your skin for you to wear for the coming week. 

“I thought...I thought...they had taken you. Hurt you. And I couldn't stop them. Could hear you screaming for me and I was powerless to fight all of them off. I couldn't...I couldn't save you.” He was sobbing, moans of a broken man being screamed into your skin as he clutched you like a lifeline. Your heart broke as you held him, quietly cooing and stroking his hair as you waited for him to come back to you. 

It didn't happen though; instead, his body steeled in a form of mental resolve and suddenly you were under him. Your back was laid flat against the cold wood of the floor and your hands were pinned above your head. You didn't even have time to gasp audibly as he nudged your thighs apart and settled between them so that they had to wrap around his waist. You wanted to fear him, could feel your mind racing to find ways to get out from his grasp, but you were curious to see what would happen with this new side of Bucky. Almost feral with the way that he was panting, eyes darker than coal as he stared you down like you were his prey. 

“You will not be taken from me, you are mine. Do you hear me? No one will ever take you from me.” Bucky’s voice had dropped ten octaves between words, and you would be lying if you said that it did not make your heart skip a beat in anticipation. 

“I’m yours, Buck. Forever.” You promised, licking your lips that had suddenly become dry. 

“Say it again.” He growled, deep in his chest, as he leaned down to nuzzle against your collarbone and breathe in your scent. 

Your head fell back in submission, allowing him to press feather-light kisses and bruising bites against your throat as you murmured, “I’m yours, Bucky Barnes. Always.” 

“Yes, you are, sweetheart.” He had you flipped to your stomach in a second, with your arms still above your head.

“What are you gonna do to me, Buck?” You whispered, but you knew that he could hear you. 

“I’m going to ruin you, princess. Gonna absolutely fuckin’ ravish you until the only words you know are ‘please’ and ‘daddy.’ Gonna make you cum on my cock until you're crying, oversensitive, and begging me to stop. But you’re a good girl, my good girl, and you’ll take all of it until I fill you full of my cum. Then I’m going to run you a warm bath in my tub and I’m going to take care of you. Nurse your aches and lotion your bruises and then cradle you in my arms as we both drift to sleep. Does that sound good to you?” You can hear the cheekiness in his tone, but it’s laced with authority and you knew better than to deny him. Besides, everything he just said sounded wonderful and so you nodded your agreement. 

“Words, princess. Use them.” He ordered, the grip on your wrists tightening in warning. 

“Yes, Daddy.” You obliged, and the dark chuckle that erupted from his throat held a sinful promise. 

“Wonderful.” That old-time drawl curled around the single word and suddenly you were resting on your elbows with your ass in the air. 

Your stomach clenched and you could feel your pussy pulsate as arousal began to collect in your panties. Buck was still draped over your back, and he was rubbing his growing erection over the fabric of his cotton sweats while he contemplated what he wanted to do to you first. It was only a moment, but the single beat of a second was all he needed before he had your jeans around your ankles and had settled on his back between your spread thighs. 

“What are yo-” you began to question, but the words were cut off as each of his ten fingers wrapped around hips and he yanked you down so that his mouth and nose were buried within your cloth-covered cunt. 

You heard him take a deep inhale through his nose and he let out the filthiest, bone-melting groan that you had ever heard him utter. Your nipples pebbled instantly beneath your lace bra and your eyes fluttered closed as you heard him chuckle once more. 

“God, you smell fuckin’ delicious, kitten. All wet and warm, just for me.” His nose nudged against your swollen clit as he licked a broad stripe up over your slit once and then again before using his teeth to yank the sodden fabric to the side so he could taste you properly. 

A shudder wracked through your body from the crown of your head to the tips of your toes as he continued his licks, collecting all of your wetness on his tongue and fucking his tongue into your leaking hole as his nose connected to rub up against your sensitive clit. 

“Oh fuck, Bucky. Christ.” You whined, rocking your hips against his face without meaning to but the way he was gripping your hips and tugging you closer told you that he didn't mind the possibility of suffocation. 

“Can't wait to be buried inside this tight, sweet cunt.” Buck snarled, using the hold he had on you to flip you onto your back. He thought ahead- as always- and made sure that your head would be safe as it fell against his pile of pillows on the floor. 

“Then bury yourself, Daddy. Fuck me.” You husked out, pupils blown wide in lust and adoration as you continued to fuck yourself onto his tongue. 

“Not yet, doll. Want you to cum on my face first. Damn near suffocate between these gorgeous thighs.” He ordered, eyes blazing as he gazed at you from between your legs. 

“Okay, Daddy.” You nodded, fingers clutching and clawing at your still-covered tits while you chased the high building inside your body. 

White-hot heat began radiating from your fingers first, and then your limbs, and then from every inch of your body as you threw yourself over the edge of your orgasm and came undone as you rode Buck’s face like it was the best thing you had ever experienced. And it was- each orgasm he gave you always outdid the last. 

“You’re so beautiful when you come, kitten. But you’re not done yet.” Buck finally managed to say as he untangled himself from your jeans and clenching thighs so he was standing before you in all of his glory. 

“Are you gonna fuck me now, Daddy? Gonna use your cock and fill me up so I can help you forget all your worries?” You grinned up at him, still panting as you came down from your first orgasm of the night.

“Yes, princess. I am.” His tone held no malice, and his eyes were watching you with lustful enjoyment as he mentally cataloged the image of you like this to his brain. 

“Then fuck me, already.” You taunted, leaning up just enough to yank your shirt over your head and then followed it with your bralette so you were finally bare beneath him. 

“You don't make the orders, you take them. Do NOT forget that.” The mirth that had overtaken him left suddenly and he was back on you in a second, sweats gone as he pinned you to the floor with no exertion given on his part. 

“Yes, Daddy.” You nodded, grinning as if you had won the lottery as your legs wrapped around Bucky’s waist once more. 

“Now you’re gonna take my cock, kitten. It’s what you wanted, right?” He was back to nosing against your neck, as if the past ten minutes had not just occurred. 

“If you think you can do it.” You taunted once more, ankles digging into the skin right above the base of his spine so you could rut against him like a dog in heat, absolutely no shame in your body as you used him for the friction you needed to get off. 

“Is that how you want to play it? Fine.” He shrugged, as if you had just spoken about the weather, but the single motion he used had you back on your hands and knees in an instant. 

“I don't think I can do it.” Buck began to speak as he kicked your legs apart once more, metal hand pressing down on the small of your back so the arch you held deepened and you were presented to him like an offering. 

“I know I can.” And he slid inside you to the hilt, a single thrust that glided through your folds like butter and all thanks to the spit and arousal he created as he had eaten you out like his last meal. 

Your mind blanked in an instant and a groan ripped out of your throat that sounded foreign to your own ears but sounded like the best kind of music to Bucky. You collapsed to your elbows, head falling to rest against the single blanket that Buck slept with when you weren't here. 

“Ah, ah- no, you don't.” Bucky tutted between his teeth, flesh hand reaching forward to grab a fistful of your hair and wrap it around his fingers before pulling back so you were back onto your hands and could watch him through the mirror that sat adjacent from you. 

“Look at you, kitten. Covered in hickies and bruises and panting like a whore in heat. And yet, you’re taking my cock so well. So fuckin’ tight and WARM, just like the first time we had sex. Your pretty pussy, stretching around my thick cock as I fuck you into oblivion. Absolutely ravishing.” Bucky always got mouthy when he was lost in your shared passion, and it did things to you that you couldn't explain. 

“Keep your eyes on me while I make you fall apart.” He ordered, using the grip he had on your hip and the hold he had of your hair to fuck you like his life depended on it. 

“Yes, Sarge.” You grinned wickedly as you saw his lips turn up into a leer, knowing full-well what that name did to him. 

“Call me that again.” Bucky growled, letting go over your hair so he could lean forward over your frame to get a hand between your thighs to rub against your still swollen, sensitive clit. 

“Make me cum, Sergeant Barnes. Please.” You tacked on the last word for good measure, already feeling the familiar tendrils of heat curl around your lips and rush through your veins as he pounded into you with wild abandon. 

The clack clack clacking that his dog tags made against his chest after every move simply spurred him on, as if he was racing them for every thrust he made into your pussy, claiming it as his own. As if you ever even thought to let another man near it. He’d kill them before they even thought that they had a chance with you, and you both knew it. More often than not, he forgets that he’s even wearing them, but he knew that they were a kink of yours and he thanked every god he could think of that he wears them when he’s got you begging underneath him. Begging to cum, begging for harder, begging for faster, begging for Daddy to make her forget her own name while he buries himself inside her. Begging to be used and degraded and taunted and shown off like a prize that only he gets to win. Every moment of every minute of every day, from the moment they met until the end of time. And he loved every single damn second of it.

He was grunting, groaning, panting, cursing every word under the Sun as he rubbed tight circles into your wet clit while he sheathed himself inside you over and over and ov-, “FUCK!”

You came without warning, the damn bursting inside your pussy as you fell to your elbows once more while absolutely drenching his cock as you squirted for the first time. Shudders were wracking your body as you cursed and moaned and whined out Bucky’s name, vision turning black as you lost all sense of time during your orgasm. Your cunt turned into a vice on Bucky’s cock and it made him see God as he gave you one, two, three strokes before burying himself deep inside you and cumming in thick ropes across your hot, tight walls. 

He fell on top of you, losing all muscle usage as pleasure roared through his body like he had never experienced before. He had enough sense to cushion you from the force of his body, but that was all he could offer as he rode out the waves of the most intense orgasm of his life. You managed to come to your senses first, and gently pulled away from Bucky so he could begin to come to his own bearings. 

“That was...that was...wow.” You mumbled, vision still blurry as you threatened to pass out from too much mental and physical stimulus all at once. 

“Well, it’s not begging but it is a nice Segway. Ready for that bath?” Bucky was able to stitch together a coherent sentence faster than you thought he would and you couldn't help but laugh in both amusement and amazement that this wonderful man was all yours. Even if he did fuck you senseless. Literally. 

“I love you, Bucky Barnes. Always.”

[jjmaybud]

bring her home to dad | rafe cameron

summary: BJ’s every parent’s nightmare and rafe brings her home to ward.

pairing(s): rafe cameron x fem!oc, platonic!sarah cameron x fem!oc, platonic!wheezie cameron x fem!oc.

word count: 5.17k

warnings: swearing, mentions of alcohol, fluff, angst, ward cameron.

author’s note: i’ve had this idea for a while and it was originally going to be a reader, but i have a lot of ideas for this oc and rafe that may or may not be a coherent story. i don’t know, we’ll see where it goes. this is an au where there isn’t any treasure hunt but like rafe still does coke and dropped out of college and sarah and john b end up dating. no season 2 spoilers! Also, the house they use in the show for Tanneyhill (it’s real name is Lowndes Grove) is actually so beautiful omg you can rent it for weddings!

BJ Bentley was in the passenger seat of her boyfriend’s truck on her way to his house for the first time. Though she’d been in a relationship with Rafe Cameron for the past few months, she understood the reservation he had to take her to meet his father. The dark tattoos all along her sun kissed skin and the style of her clothes definitely scared every one of her partner’s parents. It was especially worse when their parents were hard on them, and they tried everything to live up to their expectations. There were times when someone she was interested in brought her home just to scare their parents when they weren’t interested in her as well. It wasn’t like that with Rafe. For one, he was completely freaking out in the driver’s seat next to her as he drove to his house. And two, he told her from the beginning that he had to be in love with her to bring her home to Ward Cameron.

Well, he was in love with her. And she loved him, too. That’s why she was completely calm in the passenger seat as she waited patiently to pull up to the historic house. Rafe’s fingers tapped against the steering wheel as he was hyper aware of the world around him. Quick hits on the brake and too sharp of turns were a clear indication of his nervousness. BJ reached across the center console to take hold of his right hand. He gave it up to her with little hesitation, and she intertwined their fingers while bringing the back of his hand to her lips. The soft kiss released a bit of tension in his shoulders.

“We don’t have to do this today,” she said against his hand. He immediately shook his head at the idea.

He said, “No, I already told him you were coming today. He’s got Rose making her special meatloaf for the occasion.”

BJ placed their hands down on the console and smiled.

“I love meatloaf.”

He nodded, his mind still somewhere else, and stated, “I know. I told her.”

Rafe stopped the truck at a stop sign. With no one behind them, BJ reached her free hand up to his cheek and turned his head towards her, forcing him to meet her eyes. She smiled softly when he leaned into the palm of her hand.

“It’s going to be okay. I promise. I’ve dealt with plenty of parental disappointment. He might be a little harder on you, but he’ll let it go eventually.”

He smiled and kissed the palm of her hand before turning back to the road. As he pulled forward from the stop sign, she placed her outreached hand on his forearm to run her fingers up and down the prominent vein.

He said, “That’s not what I’m worried about.”

BJ’s hand stilled at his words, and she stared at the side of his face as she tried to think of any other reason he’d be so nervous.

“I don’t want him to scare you off,” he added as he avoided meeting her eye.

Her lip jutted out as she cooed, “Aw, Honey Bunch,” his eyes rolled and lip turned up at the pet name, “you don’t have to worry about him scaring me off. You’ve had plenty of chances to do that.”

Rafe laughed mockingly and reached over to squeeze her thigh. She laughed loudly as she tried to pull his hand off of her. When she managed to wrench his hand away from her, she reached over and poked his side which only resulted in his hand gripping her thigh again.

“Rafe Cameron,” she said in a firm tone, making him laugh. “If you don’t stop, I will knock you the fuck out.”

He didn’t stop. It took him almost side swiping someone’s car for him to let go of her and return his hand to the steering wheel.

“That’s what I thought,” BJ quipped but screeched and lifted her leg away from him as he pretended to reach for her thigh again.

The rest of the ride was silent aside from the music playing from the radio. Eventually, the sound of the turn signal interrupted the melodies of the song as they waited for the car in the other lane to pass to turn left into Tanneyhill. Trees blocked the view of the house from the gate, but she could see peaks of a white house with many windows. As they drove up the driveway and passed the trees, she could see the beautiful house in it’s full glory. The house itself was beautiful on it’s own, but the surrounding view made it stunning. She could see the expanse of the water over to the left while an expansive yard of trees veered to the right.

“Home sweet home,” Rafe muttered as he pulled into a parking spot next to someone’s car. He turned the engine off and unbuckled his seat belt but didn’t make a move to get out. BJ unbuckled her own seat belt and waited. She watched as he took a couple of deep breaths before turning to meet her eye. Her lips turned up in an encouraging smile. She leaned forward over the console enticing him to do the same. Their lips met in a soft peck and met a few times more before pulling away for good.

The couple got out of the truck at the same time and met at the back. BJ let Rafe stair up at the house before reaching her hand out for him to hold. He huffed a heavy sigh before taking her hand in his. On their way to the front door, BJ stopped walking. If he didn’t have her hand in his, he probably would have kept going. He stopped, their hands extended, and watched her eyes widen.

“What? What’s wrong?”

Her eyes moved from the house to him, and she said, “I’m going to meet Wheezie!”

Rafe released a relieved sigh as he let his head fall back with his eyes closed. The hat on his head nearly fell off as it’s bill hit the back of his neck. BJ laughed as she stepped closer to her.

“Don’t do that to me,” Rafe mumbled as he let her pull him along. When they got closer to his front door, he took the lead. He led her past the front room and into the main part of the house. They took a few turns before reaching a decent sized kitchen. As an old house meant to be preserved, it lacked the open floor plan most modern day houses choose to do. While some rooms were spacious, it felt very choppy as they moved through the house. Even the kitchen was cut off from the dining area. The only person in the kitchen was a blonde woman who was definitely not Sarah Cameron or Wheezie.

“Oh, hello!” The woman greeted as she worked on cleaning off the counters. She stopped at the sight of them and tossed the washcloth into the sink. Her eyes widened once she got a better look at the girl standing next to Rafe, but BJ took it in stride as she let go of Rafe’s hand to go shake hers.

Rafe spoke up from behind BJ, “Rose, this is BJ. BJ, this is my stepmom, Rose.”

“It’s really nice to meet you, Rose. I heard you’re making meatloaf! It already smells amazing,” BJ stated as she shook the woman’s hand. She watched Rose take in the tattoos on the back of her hand and the chain hanging on one side of her skirt, but she pretended not to notice as Rose fixed a genuine smile on her face.

“It’s nice to meet you, too! Rafe mentioned meatloaf was your favorite, so Ward asked me to make my special recipe.”

“Is there anything Rafe and I can do to help?” BJ offered. Rafe started to speak from behind her, but Rose beat him to it.

“Actually, the table still needs to be set, if you don’t mind?”

BJ shook her head and said, “Not at all.” She turned around to Rafe. “You know how to set the table, right?”

Rafe huffed and nodded his head. He turned to the left and led her into the dining room where a long, rectangular table that seats eight people took up one side of the room and a smaller, circular table that seats four people took up the other. He stepped over to the china cabinet and opened both of the doors.

“I can start with the glasses while you get the plates?” Rafe suggested as he looked at her. She nodded and walked over to him. He pointed at a specific set of plates before grabbing the glasses on the higher shelf. A place mat was already placed in front of each seat that was to be used. BJ started on one side as Rafe started on the other. They met at the head of the table, and BJ stared up at Rafe as he refused to move out of the way.

She wasn’t much shorter than him normally, but she was almost nose to nose to him with her boots on. The amused smile on his lips and the quirk of his eyebrow tempted her to do something about him being in her way. With a playful tint in the corner of her eye, she stood on the tips of her toes to press a kiss to his lips. His hand found her hip as their kiss lasted longer than necessary. When she pulled away and fell back flat on her feet, Rafe hummed and nodded his head. He patted her hip and stepped out of her way.

“You may pass,” he said, making BJ laugh. The rest of her task went without fail before the two of them placed the silverware out: BJ was in charge of the spoons while Rafe put out the forks and knives. The sound of a man’s voice interrupted the peaceful silence that laid over the air.

“Alright, I got the ice and another bottle just in case. I saw Rafe’s truck outside. Have you already met her?” The man stated as the couple saw him approach the island that Rose was standing next to.

Rose nodded, walked towards her husband, and said, “Yes, I did. They’re setting the table now.”

Ward tried to turn to look at where they were standing, but Rose grabbed the front of his blazer and pretended to fix it while she whispered to him. BJ puffed out a silent laugh as she looked at Rafe.

She whispered, “Very subtle.”

Rafe only had the energy to chuckle once as he watched the two in the kitchen. BJ studied the couple and watched Ward’s facial expressions to gauge his reaction. She noticed the exact moment Rose told him about her...appearance. His head tilted towards his wife in a quick motion to look in her eyes. Rose scolded him swiftly, and Ward fixed his face into a stoic expression. BJ could feel her boyfriend tense from beside her as she watched Ward look to the ground and nod at whatever his wife said.

BJ took the lead, grabbed Rafe’s hand, and pulled him into the kitchen. Rafe tugged on her hand to keep her from intruding on his dad and stepmom’s conversation, but BJ went through this too many times to know it was easier to rip the bandage off right away.

“Hi, you must be Ward! I’m BJ Bentley,” she introduced herself, extending her hand once again. Though he was warned, Rafe’s father appeared to still be surprised at the sight of her. He took it in stride regardless. His eyebrows shot up in delight and a charming smile crossed his face as he reached his own hand out.

Ward greeted, “Ah, nice to meet you, BJ. I have to say I was surprised to hear Rafe had a girlfriend, let alone that he was bringing her home to meet us.”

“Dad,” Rafe said as Rose called her husband’s name in warning.

“Honestly, I was surprised, too,” BJ confessed. “Didn’t think Rafe was the girlfriend type.”

The timer on the oven went off to interrupt the tense conversation. Rose hurried around the island to pull the door open. She used a cooking thermometer to check the temperature inside the meatloaf.

“It’s done. Rafe, can you go upstairs to get your sisters?” Rose asked.

Rafe made sure BJ was okay before reluctantly heading out of the kitchen to the stairs she’d seen on the way inside. She watched him until he disappeared out of the room and turned back to his parents. The brunette tucked her hair behind her ear as she caught Ward staring at the tattoos on her thighs sticking out under her skirt with a disapproving purse of his lips. She turned to Rose, the safer of the two, and offered her help.

“I can take the potatoes to the table if you’d like,” BJ offered as Rose sliced into the meatloaf and placed it onto a large plate. The potatoes were on a similar plate cut into chunks and seasoned so well that BJ’s stomach grumbled at the smell.

Rose smiled and said, “That would be great. Thank you.”

BJ returned the smile and grabbed the plate. Once she reached the table, she placed the potatoes in the center with enough room for the meatloaf. Ward followed her into the room and motioned to the side of the table with only two seats set.

“Rafe sits on this side next to me. Feel free to sit next to him,” Ward said. BJ nodded and stepped around Ward; she noticed then they were about the same height. Since Ward hadn’t pulled his chair out, BJ thought it best to wait to be seated. Her mouth didn’t agree to the plan.

“Your home is very beautiful. It has a lot of history behind it, right?” She inquired as Rose brought in the meatloaf before returning to the kitchen, probably for the drinks.

Ward’s head tilted in interest as he answered, “That’s right. People don’t usually know that.”

“I did a paper on Denmark Tanney in college. As you must know, he was the only person to survive the wreck of the Royal Merchant.”

A light lit up behind Ward’s eyes at the mention of the Royal Merchant. She mentioned offhandedly one day while hanging out with Rafe that she did a paper on the man who built his house after he told her he lived in Tanneyhill. He told her how much his dad loved the house and its history, so she knew she could use that to get on Ward’s good side. She wasn’t worried about whether the Cameron’s liked her, especially not Ward, but she wanted there to be mutual respect between them. From what Rafe has said about his father, she knew she would never like him. But as Rafe’s father, she had a level of respect for him that she wanted to be returned. No matter how the man treated him, Rafe loved Ward and looked up to him. She had to respect that.

“Of course,” Ward replied, his words more genuine than the other times he’s spoken. “It’s what drew me to the house in the first place. Tell me did your research take you to the information about the gold he was able to get off of the Royal Merchant?”

Rose brought in a pitcher of iced tea as well as a cup of scotch on the rocks for Ward. She started to pour a glass of tea for herself as she listened to their conversation.

“Yes, and no one has ever been able to find it. He had letters to his son that a lot of people have picked apart trying to find out where he hid it, but no one’s figured it out.”

“Ugh, dad, please tell me you haven’t bored BJ with your stories about the Royal Merchant,” Sarah Cameron stated as she came into the kitchen. She sent BJ a smile and a wink as she walked to her seat, leaving the middle one between her and Rose empty. Rafe followed in shortly after.

Ward laughed as he shook his head. “Of course not, Sarah. BJ brought it up.”

Sarah’s eyes widened in surprise and put her hands up in surrender. Rafe came to stand next to his girlfriend. Ward and Rose looked at him expectantly.

“Wheezie’s on her way down,” he stated before reaching over to pull out BJ’s seat. She smiled at the gesture as she stepped out of the way.

“Wow, Rafe has manners?” Sarah asked, sarcasm dripping from her words as she sat down. Rafe glared at his sister as BJ stepped in front of the seat. He pushed in her seat as she sat down. She mumbled her gratitude as he sat down next to her. Rose and Ward sat down after the kids, and Rafe took it upon himself to pour himself a glass of iced tea. He offered the pitcher to BJ, and she took it graciously.

The sound of loud steps interrupted the short silence, and a young, teenage girl wearing a bright pink tutu and a sequined, long sleeve shirt. BJ’s eyes widened in surprise, and she turned to Rafe as she pressed her lips together to contain her laugh. Rafe placed his elbow on the table and covered his mouth to hide his smile. From what Rafe told her about his youngest sister, the tutu was out of character for her.

Sarah gasped and said, “Love the tutu, Wheeze.”

“Wheezie, what are you wearing?” Rose asked as the girl sat down next to her. BJ turned back to watch the scene unfold in front of her. Wheezie smiled at her before turning to her stepmom.

Wheezie said with a shrug, “Wanted to try something new.”

“Wheezie, we have a guest. Go upstairs and change,” Ward demanded as he tilted his head back to stare at her down his nose.

“I think Wheezie has a right to dress however she wants,” Rafe said, finally lowering his hand away from his face.

Sarah added, “Yeah, dad, we should let her express herself.”

BJ could see what her boyfriend and his sisters were doing. Wheezie was dressed in an out-of-character outfit to make her brother’s girlfriend feel comfortable wearing the clothes that the older generation deemed unacceptable. Rafe and Sarah were helping coax their parents into understanding why she wore the clothes she did. It warmed her heart to see it. Wheezie didn’t know who she was, they’d never met before, but she was doing this because she loved her brother. Sarah and BJ had known of each other before she started dating Rafe because they went to the same parties.

“Also,” BJ spoke up, “I really don’t mind. I think you rock the tutu, Wheezie, and those sequins really bring out your eyes.”

“Thank you, BJ,” Wheezie said before she turned to her father expectantly. Everyone turned to him to see his reaction. Ward Cameron sighed as he stared at his younger daughter.

“Fine.”

***

“So, BJ, what are you studying in college?” Ward asked as he sipped on his second glass of scotch. The men finished their plates as well as Sarah while the rest of them were still working on finishing their potatoes and little bit of meatloaf. BJ complimented Rose on her recipe after the first bite once she tasted the burst of flavor on her tongue. She talked to Wheezie about a new movie that was coming out. Apparently it was a part of a series that the young girl really liked, so she told BJ the synopsis of the first movie and invited her to come over to watch the first two movies together. Most of dinner was Rose and Ward alternating asking BJ questions about herself or Sarah telling everyone what she’d been up to for the day and what she was planning to do in the next couple.

BJ took her time swallowing the potato she’d been chewing and answered, “Actually, I finished college last year.”

Ward and Rose’s attention perked at the sound of that.

Rose asked, “I thought you said you were the same age as Rafe?”

“She is,” Rafe answered. “She finished her Bachelor’s degree in business, right?”

He looked to her for confirmation. She nodded.

“I started taking a lot of my general education credits my junior year of high school and took more business centered classes in the summer,” BJ said, turning to Ward and Rose. “By the time I graduated high school, I was a junior in college.”

Ward appeared to be impressed with what he was hearing and asked, “So, are you working now or have you decided to do something else?”

“I am. I work with my mother in her real estate investment business. I’ve always been around the office, even interned there the summer after high school graduation, and that’s how I knew I wanted to have a career in business.”

“I have to admit that’s pretty impressive,” Ward said and stared at his son. “I wish Rafe had as much drive as you do.”

BJ looked to Rafe to see him stare into the bottom of his glass that only had chunks of ice at the bottom. She could tell by the pout of his lips and his slouched shoulders that the comment hit a little too hard. Without allowing the others to notice, she reached under the table to place her hand over his on his lap.

“Rafe has plenty of drive,” BJ defended. “He’s just got to figure out where he wants to put that energy. Calculated energy is better than wasted energy.”

Ward only hummed in response. She finished her plate without any interruption. Rafe and Sarah grabbed everyone’s empty dishes. BJ helped Rafe stack all of the plates before Ward asked Wheezie to show their guest around the house.

“Yeah, BJ, I’ll show you Rafe’s room first since you’ll probably spend a lot of time there,” Wheezie said as she pushed her chair out to stand up.

Rafe stepped back into the room and scolded her, “Wheeze. Shut. Up.”

BJ laughed and stood up to follow after Wheezie. She patted Rafe’s shoulder as she passed him. Wheezie talked the entire time as she showed the older girl every room in the house. Most of the stories included embarrassing stories about Rafe.

“The rug right here?” Wheezie pointed out as they stood in the hall leading to the stair and outside of Rafe’s room. “Rafe tripped over it running out of his room and almost busted his chin going down the stairs. Luckily he stopped at the turn or he would’ve broken his arm.”

BJ shook her head and asked, “When was this?”

“Last week.”

The two giggled at the news, and Wheezie took her up another set of stairs. BJ followed her into a room that was clearly hers. It was a typical young teenager room with a few posters and brighter, mismatched colors.

“The tour is now over, please don’t forget to tip your guide and remember to visit again,” Wheezie said in a highly comical, animated voice. She worked on taking off the tutu as BJ looked around the room. It wasn’t a big room, but it was large enough to hold everything her heart desired.

“Is she your favorite artist?” BJ asked, pointing to a small poster of Taylor Swift next to some, what BJ could assume were, lyrics.

“Of course, she’s a lyrical genius,” Wheezie said, and BJ could tell how much the girl looked up to the artist by her voice. “Who’s your favorite artist?”

A sheepish smile was brought to her lips and turned to Wheezie. The youngest Cameron was sitting on her bed against her pillows, and BJ went to sit on the edge near her.

BJ said, “So, this may come as a shock, but I love Whitney Houston.”

Wheezie’s head tilted forward in surprise as her eyes widened. BJ laughed. The former girl looked down at BJ’s clothes and tattoos before looking back up to her with narrowed eyes.

“There’s no way. You definitely listen to classic rock like Nirvana,” Wheezie said.

“Okay, Nirvana is definitely not classic rock. Whoever told you that lied to you. And yes, despite my looks, Whitney Houston just hits the spot.”

Wheezie laughed and said, “I can’t wait to tell Rafe.”

“Hah,” BJ mocked and hit the girl lightly on the leg, “he already knows.” She hopped off the bed and headed for the door. “I’m going to go find him. I just take the stairs all the way down right?”

The only response she received was a nod before leaving the room. BJ could hear slightly raised voices drifting up the stairs as she started down them. She could hear Rafe’s voice but couldn’t make out any of his words.

Then, clear as day, she heard Ward’s voice, “I don’t care, Rafe! Think about what people will say when they see you with her. What they will say about our family.”

“You didn’t say this to Sarah when she brought John B home,” Rafe countered.

“John B doesn’t dress like she does and doesn’t have tattoos up and down his arms! I don’t care if you love her, you-”

Suddenly, it was quiet as BJ stepped on a particularly creaky stair. Not that she was quiet on her way down, but they didn’t hear her over their yelling. As she came down, she saw Rafe, Ward, and Rose through the doorway into the kitchen standing in awkward silence as they waited for her.

“Please, don’t stop on my account,” BJ said as she walked towards the three of them.

Rafe started to talk, “BJ, I’m sorry-”

BJ held up a hand to stop him.

“You don’t have to apologise, Rafe. It’s not the first time I’ve walked in on an awkward conversation with my boyfriend’s parents. I just hoped your father had enough respect to talk to me about it.”

She smiled a sickeningly sweet smile as she met Ward’s eyes. Rafe said her name and offered for them to leave.

“And I wish my son had enough respect not to bring you home,” Ward said as he took a long drink of his scotch.

BJ’s smile didn’t falter at his words as Rose sharply said his name.

“You know, Ward, a person can always change their clothes,” BJ informed the older man and motioned to her own clothes. “Hell, on a normal day, I don’t typically wear this. I only wore it now so you could see the ‘worst’ of it and learn to get over it. I understand your reservations on tattoos. It’s not everyone’s preference. I, for one,” BJ stepped over to Rafe and motioned to his bare arm, “love the blank canvas that is your son.” Rafe muttered an “oh, my god” at her words. “But you should never judge someone’s character for what they decide to do with their bodies. It’s their actions you have to pay attention to.

“Your actions, specifically, have told me that you are a very insecure man who tries to keep the image of his perfect family intact to hide the fact that he feels like an imposter in the life he’s created for himself.” Ward stood up straighter and set his glass down forcefully. Rose put her hand on his chest to stop him from taking a step towards BJ. “The only reason I’m saying this to you is because, although I do not like you one bit, I have respect for you. I know who you are, Ward Cameron. Started on the other side of Outer Banks and, through hard work and sacrifice, you made it to Figure Eight. You raised a beautiful family despite hardly being there for them emotionally. Anyone can respect someone who has managed to do that for themselves.”

Ward scoffed and interrupted BJ’s tangent, “I let you into my home, and you decide to speak to me like this in the name of respect? My actions have told you all of this about my character? Through one dinner?”

BJ shrugged and simply said, “I minored in psychology. And I’m sorry if you find what I’ve said to be disrespectful. I found you talking about me without me present to be disrespectful. I love your son whether you like me or not and as long as he still feels the same way, we’ll have to treat each other with mutual respect.”

Rafe’s hand slipped into hers. Through their interlaced fingers BJ felt his grip tighten as he stood up to his father. With her other hand, she reached out for a handshake. Ward stared down at her hand for a moment before looking at Rafe. Another squeeze on her hand. Ward and BJ locked eyes. He sighed and reached out his hand. A firm handshake, and the two were on their way with Rafe saying over his shoulder he might be back later.

Her boyfriend practically dragged her out of the house and to his truck. The sun was already set, so the lights around the house were the only thing to light their way to Rafe’s truck. The overhead lights inside turned on and off as they got in. The dash light lit up Rafe’s features as he turned the ignition over to start the engine. BJ watched as he sighed heavily and fell back against his seat, and she reached over to grab his hand again.

“I almost shit myself when you called him insecure,” Rafe confessed, making her laugh out loud. “I thought he was going to kill us both.”

BJ leaned over the console and said, “But he didn’t.”

He opened his eyes and turned his head without lifting it to look at her. Pieces of his hair fell onto his forehead, and she smiled at him as she studied his face. A sweat had broken out on his face and neck, but it was slowly drying in the cool air of the truck’s air conditioning.

“No, he didn’t.” BJ watched his soft lips as he spoke.

“Now, the worst is over.”

He nodded. “It is.”

BJ’s free hand reached up to the back of Rafe’s head and pulled his face towards hers. Rafe didn’t put up any fight as he leaned into the kiss. She pulled away with a sigh, and the boy moved so he could comfortably lean against the console as she played with the hairs at the back of his head.

“Wheezie’s cool,” BJ admitted. “She told me a lot of embarrassing stories about you.” Rafe rolled his eyes. “Something about you and a rug followed by a small tumble down the stairs.”

Rafe shook his head and said, “I have just as many embarrassing stories of her.”

BJ smiled.

“I can’t wait to hear them.”

[amimimi]

hii! can i request sugar daddy!cherry blossom x reader? i feel like he'd be a super romantic type of sugar daddy who would totally make the sugar baby fall in love hahahah

hi! cherry as a sugar daddy is the sexiest thing i’ve heard all week omfg. also! i went light on the nsfw content bc i didn’t know if you wanted to explore that? i apologize in advance for spelling/grammatical errors!

warnings: nsfw (towards the end!) , sugar daddy/baby relationship

pairings: cherry blossom x reader

word count: 977

sugar daddy!cherry

we all know cherry is rich af

he has his own calligraphy company and he has a skateboard that plays lullaby’s for him at night...yea he got that money

i don’t think cherry initially wants or even thinks about having a sugar baby

joe is the one who brings it up to him at their weekly dinners

he’s teasing cherry about the fact that cherry’s romantic life is dead and telling him that AI cannot replicate human affection

and cherry calls joe a whore, and joe’s like “and what about??”

but that whole interaction does have cherry thinking

intimacy...sounds intriguing....

but cherry doesn’t want to date/have a partner, he thinks it’s messy and time consuming

he figures a sugar daddy/baby relationship might be the way to go for him? It requires laying boundaries out on the table beforehand and it just seems less messy in his head

so y’all meet on an arrangement app and congratulations, you now have the most romantic, sexiest sugar daddy in all of okinawa

cherry is canonly romantic af and strategic about it too—like he does not do parked car talks or ask you to come over just because

he’s constantly mapping out your dates with your interests in mind, like full day planned

which is great if you don’t wanna do sh*t

in the beginning, cherry is very formal and while it is romantic, it feels a lil impersonal

he’s just kinda stiff with you and he doesn’t mean to be!

like you’re cute! you’re charming! you’re sweet! it’s just that cherry feels a little out of his depth

he’s only been intimate with carla...a skateboard...so everything feels a lil strained for him in the beginning

but cherry begins to realized how fun it is to woo you

he finds himself planning out beachside picnics (catered of course), he’s trying to figure out what kind of shoes/clothing to buy you (yeah, he could just take you to a mall and let you go crazy, but the challenge of picking out the perfect outfit is just too fun)

so after a month or so, cherry gets into the groove of things and you’re allowed to experience him in his full glory

takes you out to expensive ass restaurants you didn’t even know existed and if you wear the dress he gifted to you, his eyes will twinkle and the most gentle smile will grace his face

no...no because imagine the both of y’all seated across from each other, but you’re both leaning toward each other, whispering over the gentle music of the restaurant.

and he brushes the back of his knuckles across your cheek and YO HE’S WEARING RINGS AND YOU JUST LET YOUR FACE REST THERE

will send flowers to your apartment just to let you know he's thinking of you <3

you send him cute selfies or screenshots of funny tweets you saw and he eats that shit up

when you sneak and take pictures of him, he shakes his head and rolls his eyes—you don’t miss the small smile on his face

he just finds everything you do so endearing

during their weekly dinners, joe catches cherry grinning at his phone several times and he's like "aww, lil kaoru took my advice, huh? >:)"

instantly ruins cherry's mood

but cherry knows it himself that you've gotten to him

he feels lighter since the two of you had met

i feel like cherry is one of those people that thinks they have self-control over their emotions

key word is thinks

even if he does end up developing feelings for you, he won’t cross any of the boundaries the both of you laid out—he’d only speak up if he was sure that you felt the same way

sometimes, though, when he watches you talk about your wacky day or when you look at him with a familiar sense of adoration shimmering in your eyes— he thinks about asking if he could be your boyfriend right then and there

yea yea, but ANWAYS let’s get to the sexy stuff

i feel like it would also take a while for cherry to start to feel comfortable enough to be physically intimate with you

he makes sure that even sex with him is romantic

you know, rose petals, a lil champagne, candles—the whole shebang

atmosphere is key!

he’s thee most unselfish lover

he’ll eat you out until his jaw locks and baby, his mouth is divine. he will purposefully moan and hum against you because the squeals you let out make his brain feel all fuzzy

he just gets off on showering you with love and gets so caught up in ensuring your pleasure, he kinda forgets about his own

he will make you cum multiple times, back to back, and you have to stop him because you wanna make him cum too

when you give him head, he prefers to be laying up against the headboard with you lying between his thighs, ass up

he’ll let his hand rest against the back of your head, gently guiding you and encouraging you

or he’ll push your hair back from your face so he can properly see your face

or he’ll just gently caress your face as he watches you, eye glossed over and full of lust

AND HE'S SO GOOD AT AFTERCARE!!

even if y'all don't do anything "extreme", he just wants to tend to you

"what do you need, love?"-he literally just offers himself up to you

he'll have water ready in one of those sexy ass vase's (?) and will pour you a cup regardless on whether you ask

runs you a warm bath with your choice of essential oil

he'll give you privacy if you'd like, but if you want him close, he'll bathe with you, letting you rest against his chest

you're his baby and he won't let you forget it

notes: the quarter just started so I apologize for the lag!

[bunnysuit-femboy]

Bad Idea

Eren x Reader

Word Count: 5.3k

Warnings: Penetration, Cream pie, Cheating, Unprotected sex

Summary: Despite being a seemingly healthy relationship, Eren can’t stop himself from staring at you. Now, you’re finally getting to know Eren’s fascination in your body and the thoughts that keep him awake at night.

Notes: I don’t condone cheating, I just thought of this and couldn't stop myself from writing it...

You believe Eren’s most prominent feature is his eyes. They’re a beautiful sea-green that’s almost split between the blue of the sky and the green of the grass. His eyes are so wide and full of interest when you catch them staring at you no matter where you are and what you’re doing.

You’ve always noticed Eren’s eyes being on you, his gaze is an accessory that always compliments your outfit. You’ve felt the weight of his eyes when you’d walk into the kitchen and he was in there with your step sister, Historia. Or when you’d doze off on the way to the beach and could feel him watching you from two seats over. And even when he’s sitting with Historia while you watch a movie, holding her hand under the blanket while he watches you on the other side of the couch.

It’s odd how much Eren likes to look at you, considering he’s dating your older sister. But, you can’t say you hate the weight of his eyes either. Every time you walk into a room and you see him in there, you wait for the moment he notices the new guest is you. You wait for that split second moment before Eren looks up at you, and then never looks away. Feeling the weight of his eyes was your favorite feeling, the taboo of the entire encounter making your heart race and your panties wetten.

So, why were you pretending to be surprised when you felt him staring at you across the campsite?

You were lounging back in a fold-up chair around the firepit, watching the flames dance around each other to the music coming from somebody’s speaker. You had on your sleep shorts and a big t-shirt, not wanting to wear too much knowing you’d be going to bed once the fire died. It was then, while you were staring into the flames, that that familiar feeling landed on your skin and wouldn’t go away.

You looked up, taking in the scene in front of you. The sun was setting behind the thick forest of trees, painting the sky in colors of purples, pinks, and blues. Historia sat beside Eren on the picnic table, animatedly talking with Armin and Mikasa. Historia was deep into the conversation, but Eren had mentally exited. Instead of listening, Eren was watching you intently, the ghost of a smile across his lips.

You watched Eren back. At first, when Eren would stare at you, you looked away until the feeling was gone. But - more recently - you started watching the boy as he watched you. The ghost of a smile across your lips, one eyebrow curiously raised, and your eyes watching his emerald ones with a hint of interest.

It only made him stare at you more.

You shifted in the flimsy seat, leaning closer to the heated firepit. You shifted your eyes from Eren and down to the dancing flames. You leaned closer to the fire, so much so that your shirt fell forward, teasing the smooth skin underneath. You knew Eren was looking at you, so why not give him something to look at?

You felt a hand on your shoulder before you could look back up at Eren. You were planning on hooding your eyes seductively, smirking at him across the campsite, and tilting your head innocently at the boy. But instead you were ripped from your plan by a calloused grasp on your clothed shoulder.

You jumped in your seat and turned to the new person, “Hi.”

Jean smiles at the empty seat beside you, “Can I sit here?”

“Yeah.” You nodded slowly. “Yeah, yeah, take it.”

“Cool,” Jean mumbles as he joins you around the fire. You lean back in the chair, tearing your thoughts from Eren, though you could still feel the weight of his eyes from across the campsite.

Jean was a close friend of Eren’s, and - by association - a close friend of Historia’s as well. He was always at these group events, usually sitting with Connie and Sasha, doing something stupid. This was the first time he had ever spoken to you, other than your first meeting when he introduced himself. It was strange that he’d choose today of all days to talk to you, but so be it.

“So,” Jean filled the awkward silence, the only sound coming from the crackling of the fire and the sound of music playing from somewhere far off, “How are you enjoying camping?”

“It’s fun,” You answered shortly, “I like the fire.”

“I can tell.” Jean chuckled lightly. “You haven’t left that spot since we got the fire going two hours ago.”

You finally turned to the boy with a shrug, “Does that make me a pyromaniac?”

“Well, do you like to watch things burn?”

You thought about Jean’s question for a moment. You thought about what always attracted you towards fires. You wondered if you only liked to watch the flames dance around each other or if you only liked the scorching heat that radiated, but quickly decided that that wasn’t it. Your attraction to flames was never to the fire itself, but rather the wood underneath.

You liked to watch the wood char from a fire you control. You liked being the one to hit the burnt broken pieces from the log, only encouraging the fire further. You liked watching the log as it watched you, being well aware of the flames eating it alive until the fire finally died. Only when the fire dies can you see the log in all of its glory. The log is falling apart, black pieces flaking to the firepit’s bottom, beckoning you forward to feel mercy for the destroyed wood that kept you warm for so long.

“I suppose I do.” You turned back to Eren only to be met with an empty seat beside Historia at the wooden picnic table. “The wood doesn’t need to burn, but we burn it for our own selfish reasons.” You turn back to Jean, his eyebrows raised at you. “It’s kind of funny - actually - how selfish humans can be.”

Jean smiles sideways, “You say that like you aren’t human.”

You giggle, “I’m human. I’m sorry, that got weird really quickly.”

“Yeah,” Jean said through breathy laughter, “It did.”

There was a moment of silence before you said, “How are you enjoying camping?”

Jean was taken aback by your sudden question, “Oh, yeah, camping. It’s going well. I’m honestly surprised Historia invited you.”

“What?”

Jean started waving his hands in your face, “No, no, no, no- that came off so wrong.” Jean leaned back in the seat beside you. “Historia and Eren got in a fight the other day about you, so I was surprised she invited you to come along.”

“What fight?” You leaned towards the boy, the ghost of a smile on your lips. The excitement in the pit of your stomach was the same excitement you felt when you watched the log slowly burn away in the firepit.

Jean sighed, “Don’t get upset over what I tell you.”

“I won’t.” You leaned closer to the boy, your shirt involuntarily shifting forward and showing more skin than you wanted. But, you couldn’t notice your shirt at the moment, you were focused on everything wrong with Historia and Eren’s seemingly perfect relationship.

Jean’s eyes quickly glanced over your face and body before he started, “They were fighting the other day because Historia thinks he talks to you too much. She said he always targets you at parties and when he comes over, he's always around you.”

You pout at the boy, “We barely talk, though, and I’ve never noticed him being around me.”

It wasn’t a lie, you never noticed Eren being around you. You never noticed how he got closer to you the longer he watched you from across the room. You never noticed how he always seemed to be right over your shoulder, forcing himself into any conversation that happened with you. He’d been doing those things since you’d met him, it was simply something you were used to.

Jean put his hands up in silent surrender, “Hey, that’s all I’ve heard. Of course, I heard that through Armin who heard it through Mikasa who was with Eren when he was fighting with Historia over the phone. So, who knows what’s real. All we know for sure is that they fought and you were the key discussion point.”

“Weird,” You said as you leaned back in your chair, much to Jean’s disappointment.

“But,” Jean quickly continued, “I doubt it was that serious of a fight considering you were still invited to come on the camping trip. I just think they needed to blow off a little steam before the big trip.”

“Yeah,” You quietly agreed, looking around the campsite.

The campsite was beautifully bland. It was surrounded by a thick forest of trees, and a dirt path leading down to the site itself. The firepit sat in the middle of the campsite, a group of fold up chairs surrounding the blazing fire. It also had a metal park grill not too far away from the picnic table where Historia, Armin, and Mikasa all sat together. And close by the picnic table was the RV still attached to Jean's truck he had driven into the mountains only a few hours ago.

Right after getting to the destination, you mostly stayed on the couch in the RV, listening to music and ignoring everybody else. It was only when the sun started to set and the marshmallows were promised that you found your way to the firepit. And for the last two hours, you sat in your seat, eyeing up Eren and watching the log burn slowly.

“Anyways,” Jean said before standing up, “I’m thinking about taking a walk around the woods, care to join?”

You looked up from the blazing fire and at the tall boy looking down at where you were sitting. Jean was waiting for you, as if he expected you to give up the fire for his company instead. Jean was attractive, but you knew the only way you were going off with Jean was if Eren was here to watch your exit.

You looked around the campsite to find Eren’s eyes. He was no longer at the picnic table, talking with his friends. You couldn't see the emerald eyes watching you from the RV or the edge of the woods or - wait, there they were. Eren stood at the grill, helping Connie cook hamburgers as Sasha patiently waited beside them. And, just as you expected, his eyes were watching you intently.

You turned your attention back to Jean, “Yeah, I’ll join. But, wait for me to grab my sweatshirt in case it gets cold.”

Jean nodded, “Yeah, yeah. Of course. Take your time. I’ll be with Sasha when you’re ready to go.”

You rose from the seat and happily skipped your way over to the RV. You could feel the weight of Eren’s eyes from across the campsite, watching the way you move your body and the way your hair bounced with each overexaggerated step. Once to the door of the RV, you pressed your back into the handle and turned your eyes to Eren’s. You quirked a single eyebrow up at the boy, almost tempting him to come closer.

You turned around and found your way into the RV. You walked through the driver’s area and into the middle. Across from the dining table and kitchen was the couch in which you had taken reign over since you first walked into the RV. You found your backpack on the side of the couch, hanging over the back cushion.

You grabbed the backpack and sat on the couch to go through it. You shuffled through the things you had shoved in the biggest pocket. Things like the many cords for your appliances, your laptop, the book you’re currently reading, a packet of your favorite gum, and loads of other useless objects you didn’t need to bring. You frowned at your backpack, thinking you had shoved your sweatshirt into the bottom of the bag.

The door of the RV swung open suddenly and you jumped in your seat from the noise. You placed the bag back on the floor, giving your attention to whoever had joined you in the RV. You were expecting Jean, considering he was waiting for you, but you were dead wrong.

“Eren,” You whispered the name of the new guest, standing up with his entrance.

“Hey,” Eren grinned as he looked you up and down.

You tried to look away from his eyes, glancing around the entire RV, “Have you seen my sweatshirt?”

“No,” Eren said quickly, “What were you and Jean talking about?”

Your eyes snapped back to the boy, “Excuse me?”

“You heard my question.”

You crossed your arms against your chest, “That is hardly any of your business.”

You turned around, walking back towards the bedding area. You glanced in every crevice of the RV, still trying to find your sweatshirt. Eren followed you through the RV, only a few steps behind you.

“But it is my business,” Eren said to your back, “You made it my business.”

You turned around to him, “And, how the hell did I do that?”

Eren sighed, “Because, it’s you we’re talking about here. Everything involving you also involves me. You’re my girlfriend’s little sister, I care about you and I’m protective over you. And - Jean - he isn’t a good guy, you shouldn’t be talking to him.”

“He’s your friend,” You remind the boy, “If he’s a good person or not is not my problem. Maybe pick better friends next time, Eren.”

“You’re the one who’s going to follow him into the woods right before the sun goes down.” You tilted your head at that, so Eren did know what you and Jean had talked about. “You think he has good intentions? You think he only wants to walk and talk? You can’t be stupid enough to think he doesn’t have ulterior motives.”

“And if he does,” You say with a smile, “Who cares? If I let him lead me into the woods and strip me and then we end up fucking in a cold ass lake in the middle of the night, who cares? Surely, you don’t care.” You raised your eyebrows. “Right, Eren?”

Though the scenario was purely for playful purposes, Eren didn’t find it funny. In fact, he only frowned down at you, as if he were a disappointed father looking down at his rebellious teen daughter. Your relationship with Eren was strange, one minute he was watching you like a hungry man watching a seafood buffet and the next minute he was reprimanding you for simply making a joke.

“I don’t care,” Eren said with a single raised eyebrow.

You grinned up at him, “You aren’t acting like you don’t care.”

“Aren’t you looking for something?”

Your smile only widened, “Oh my god, are you jealous?”

Eren looked away from you, now focusing on the wall to your left. You continued to look into his big green eyes, trying to make him break. He was holding a strong front, but you wanted to hear his own ulterior motives - like, why he followed you into the empty RV in the first place.

“Come on,” You taunted, “You aren’t seriously jealous?” Eren remained silent so you prodded further. “Who are you more jealous of? Are you jealous of me for having the option to run off into the middle of the woods with your best friend to let him fuck me because I’m single? Or, are you jealous of Jean because he gets to be the one to fuck me?”

Eren closed his eyes, “I’m just protective of you, I told you that.”

You took a step forward, “Would you rather you be the one leading me into the dark woods and fucking me in the lake?”

Eren finally looked at you, “I don’t have to be Jean to fuck you.”

“But you have to be single.”

“Do I?” Eren took a step closer to you, making your heart pound in your chest. “You won’t tell anyone, right? You won’t tell your older sister?”

It was disgusting how Eren could joke about sleeping with you when he was dating Historia - but also, was he even joking? His mouth was set in a permanent smirk and his eyebrows were quirked and you could see the way his eyes searched every inch of your body. Suddenly, wearing shorts and a t-shirt wasn’t enough, you were sweating bullets under his gaze.

“Eren,” You said his name in a whisper, “That’s not funny.”

“Jokes are funny.” Eren tilted his head at you. “But, I’m not joking.”

You thought of Historia, innocently sitting at the picnic table right outside of the RV. You thought of Jean, waiting by the grill for you to grab your sweatshirt and finally go on a walk with him. And, you thought of Eren and how close he was. And, how he smelled of campfire smoke, and his beautiful sea-green eyes, and his plump pink lips, and his white teeth that were biting into his smile, trying to hold back his obvious amusement.

You wanted to say no - you really did - but now that Eren finally offered this to you, you could no longer think of Historia. You only thought of yourself, and how good Eren would feel on top of you. You thought of how heavy his body would feel on your chest, a lot heavier than his eyes have ever felt.

“You aren’t joking?” You whispered, there was a tint of interest evident in that one question.

Eren shrugged lightly, “I’m not joking if you’re not joking.”

“I could tell her.” You took a step closer to Eren, now only an inch away. “I could tell Historia about this whole conversation.”

Eren placed an uncharacteristically gentle hand on your cheek, “But, would she believe you? Her angelic little boyfriend trying to sleep with her little sister? That’s something I would never do.”

You raised your eyebrows as he leaned in closer, “I could still tell her, maybe even cry if I have to.”

Eren’s lips were only a moment away from your own when he whispered to your mouth, “And, what if she doesn’t believe you?”

Eren pushed through that second of space between your lips. He kissed you gently at first, as if metaphorically dipping his toes into the water before diving in completely. And surely, only a moment later, Eren came in for another kiss but this one quickly became ravenous and desperate.

Eren had his arms wrapped around your waist, bringing your body closer to him and pressing your chests together. You wrapped your arms around Eren’s neck, using his height to your advantage to stay with his lips. When Eren straightened back up, he took you with him, your feet going up on your tip-toes.

You weren’t doing much of the walking, but you went with him as he walked backwards to the couch. Eren let go of you before he sat down on the cushion beside your bag. He looked up at you where you stood above him, tilting his head mockingly. Eren then smacked his lap lightly, beckoning you forward the same way an owner would call forward a dog.

You crossed your arms against your chest from where you stood over Eren, “Seriously? Are you mistaking me for a bitch?”

Eren smirked and said, “Just sit down already. You don’t want people to get curious about what we're talking about, right?” You sighed and reluctantly took your spot on Eren’s lap, straddling him. “Good puppy.”

Your face was only an inch from Eren’s, and he was watching your lips as you said, “I’m not a puppy. That can be Historia’s job.”

Eren cringed at the sound of his girlfriend’s name, but then quickly replied, “Let’s not talk about her while you’re on top of me, alright?”

“Talk about who?” You leaned in and pressed your lips to Eren’s lips.

Eren smiled against your mouth, “That’s my girl.”

That nickname caused you to shift closer to Eren, your chests pressing together. Your lips found each other once again, the kissing just as desperate as before. Your lips moved against his, your teeth clattering together with neediness.

Eren had his hands on your hips, and he moved them onto the small of your back. His hands kept rising, moving up the back of your t-shirt and settling on your spine. Then, in one swift move, Eren swung you through the air and laid you down on the couch, finding his place on top of you.

You let out a quick gasp from the quick position change and the newfound pressure right where you needed him between your legs. You couldn’t help but whine into Eren’s mouth with every movement of his hardening cock against the heartbeat in your pants. And, each whine you fed him only made him groan into your mouth as well.

“Eren,” You whispered to his lips, “More - I want more.”

Eren pressed harder into you one last time before sitting back on his knees. As if he were getting timed, Eren grabbed the hem of your shorts and pulled them off in one swift move. The shorts hit the floor and Eren looked down at you with a sickeningly confident smile.

“How sweet,” Eren said, “You're so desperate for me.”

“Shut up,” You mumbled, “How can you call me desperate when you’re the one with the staring problem?”

Eren moves back on top of you, looking deeply into your eyes, “Don’t act like you never stared back.”

You turned your head and whispered into his cheek, “I only stared back because you stared at me.” You jutted your chin forward, holding back from kissing Eren. “Why did you stare so much anyways? What were you even thinking about?”

Eren grinned as he whispered, “I always thought about-” He chuckled quietly to himself- “Well, about what’s happening right now, princess.” Eren leaned in closer. “Watching you practically whine for more of me.”

You finally brought your lips to his, kissing him in response to his statement. Honestly, it was exactly what you had always thought. You knew Eren didn’t watch you because he liked your hair or your outfits or the way you smiled when you talked. You always knew there was some deep rooted sexual desire planted in Eren’s head - and that reality was entirely why you started staring back in the first place.

You liked the attention and you grew comfortable with the weight of Eren’s gaze over time. You knew even if you were completely overlooked in every conversation with your sister’s friends - desperately trying to squeeze your way into the conversations and even going to the lengths of clinging onto Historia’s arm, hoping you’ll receive as much attention as she was getting - Eren would still look at you despite it all.

Eren was back between your legs in a moment, but close wasn’t nearly close enough. You instinctively wrapped your legs around Eren’s waist, hooking them together at the ankles. You pushed your hands under the thin fabric of his t-shirt, moving your fingertips over the thick muscles of his back and shoulders. You pushed the shirt upward with a quiet command.

“Off,” You whispered against Eren’s mouth.

Eren shook his head, moving his nose against your own, “No time.”

You furrowed your eyebrows, about to ask what he could mean by that when he silently answered your unspoken question. Eren’s one hand moved from the side of your head and down to his waist, undoing his jeans in one experienced move. He struggled with the hem of his pants, so you silently offered two helping hands.

Your fingers fumbled around with the rough fabric of his pants as you both attempted to push them over his waist. His jeans moved swiftly over his curves, revealing his boxers pitching a unexpectantly long tent. You always assumed Eren’s cocky attitude was his way of overcompensating for something he didn’t have - but, now that you could see it, you realized he didn’t need to overcompensate for anything, he was just a cocky bastard with a big cock.

You felt Eren’s fingers hastily grab for the bottom of your panties, pushing them to the side. Eren brought his free hand to the waistband of his boxers, pushing the fabric down enough to free his cock from underneath. Your eyes were caught on his dick, taking in a sight Historia must see all of the time - considering how needy he seems to be.

But, what if Eren wasn’t this needy with Historia? You’re not Historia, and you don’t pretend to be either, so maybe he likes the change - in fact, maybe that’s what has always drawn his attention to you. Maybe he likes the way you let his eyes confidently decorate you, instead of Historia who gets giddy and blushy under his gaze. Maybe he likes that you don’t remind him of his girlfriend because sometimes getting used to something means getting bored of it.

Eren’s mouth kisses down your jaw and neck, pressing soft kisses to the sensitive skin under your ear. His breath was hot against your skin, making you squirm lightly under the pressure of his body. His whispers tickled the places he had previously kissed.

“‘You okay?” Eren whispered against your throat.

The question made your stomach turn with butterflies, “Mhm, perfect.”

Eren brought himself closer to your body, hips to hips and his cock finding its home in your entrance. The movement made your back arch, pressing your chest flush against Eren’s chest. A low ache of pain spread between your legs and you couldn’t stop the broken moan that left your lips.

“Shush,” Eren groaned against your ear before bringing his lips back to yours. He kissed you softly once before he leaned back to look into your eyes. It seemed he was pretending not to be balls deep inside of you as he gazed sweetly into your eyes. “Are you okay?”

You nodded, “M’fine.”

You always thought Eren’s gaze of desire was enough for you, but his gaze of admirational was enough to turn you on by itself. His eyes were burning holes into your own, and you felt yourself growing hot under the gaze as if you had anything to be nervous about. You bucked your hips against his own, wanting more of him but not knowing how to voice those desires.

He took the silent hint well enough, moving his body against yours, and pulling himself out of you before pushing himself back in. You bit your lip to stop the loud moans from escaping your throat. Eren brought his lips to yours, attempting to help suppress the moans from coming out. Under better circumstances, Eren would’ve loved to hear your sounds of pleasure, but not when his friends and girlfriend were right outside.

“How about-” Eren groaned against your mouth as he pushed his hips against yours- “Next time I’ll take my time.”

“Next time,” You whispered breathlessly in between two kisses.

Eren repeated, “Next time.”

The thought of doing this again made your heart jump and your entrance grow a little tighter around his cock. Next time, he was already planning a next time. Next time without his friends waiting outside, next time without his girlfriend within a thirty foot radius, next time without a quick fuck - something a bit more meaningful than right now.

So, you let him use you. You let him use your body to fill his every desire, and use you as his personal fleshlight. He slammed his hips into you, desperately reaching a high that you weren’t even close to finding. Because next time you knew he’d take his time with you, and let you have as many orgasms as you could hope for.

Eren was close to his climax, you could tell by the way his thrusts got sloppy and his kissing got messy against your lips. He leaned back far enough from your face to whisper into your mouth.

“Where?” He whispered with a groan.

“Anywhere.” You whispered back, moving your hips against Eren’s hips to help bring him to his approaching high.

WIth one last gutty groan into your mouth and one final thrust fully into you, you felt yourself get filled with his warmth. After Eren pulled himself completely out, he dropped his head to your shoulder, breathing heavily against your skin. After a few moments of silent relief, he pushed your panties back to cover the mess he had made.

Eren moved to sit back on the couch, covering himself back up with his boxers and jeans. You rolled yourself partially off of the couch, grabbing your shorts from the floor before moving them over your legs. You were once again fully dressed, now looking at Eren with furrowed eyebrows.

You wanted to say something, but without a single word of acknowledgement, you walked to the door of the RV. Before you could reach for the door handle, Eren spoke up suddenly from the couch.

“Your sweatshirt,” He said quickly, his eyes once again finding yours.

You glanced lazily around the RV, “I don’t need it.” You looked back at Eren with a cocky grin. “Maybe I can borrow Jean’s sweatshirt if I get too cold.” Your grin only grew wider. “Or, maybe we can create our own body heat - you know, if we have to.”

Eren frowned at you, “You’re insufferable, you know that, right?”

You shrugged lightly, “That’s just how little sisters are.”

It was as if you had watched his world crash around him. You watched realization make itself known in his eyes and in his face, from his now slack jaw and widened eyes. He was finally remembering - after forcing himself to forget for so long - that you were a little sister. Not only a little sister, but his girlfriend’s little sister.

You regretted saying anything, so you instead walked out of the RV. Nobody had noticed you were gone and nobody was waiting for your return. You walked across the campsite to stand beside Jean still talking with Sasha. You stood silently for a few moments until Jean finally noticed you by his side.

“Hey.” Jean looked you up and down, noticing your newly rosy cheeks and swollen lips. If he gave himself the time to think about it, he could come to the conclusion of what had happened in the RV, but Jean silently chose obliviousness. “‘You ready to go?”

Your eyes moved quickly to the opening door of the RV, Eren making his escape. There was a new awkward gait to Eren’s walk as he made his way to his girlfriend and friends sitting on the picnic table. Historia excitedly ran into Eren’s arms when he came within a ten feet radius, and you felt your stomach turn in jealousy.

It was weird how he labelled himself as Historia’s boyfriend, but yet he was just as much - if not more - yours. In just a few months, Historia and Eren would be celebrating their two year anniversary. And, in a strange way, you would be celebrating with them as well as their unofficial third.

“I’m ready.” Your eyes met Jean’s and you offered him a genuine smile. “Let’s go walk.”

For a second as you made your way towards the edge of the woods with Jean, you felt the familiar weight of Eren’s eyes on your back. It was heavier than normal, two new feelings silently shared between the two of you: the guilt of what you had done, and the excitement of knowing it would happen again.

[parchmentedpetrichor]

➳a mastermind ♡

in which fred weasley turns to the resident mastermind, y/n l/n, in hogwarts for advice. the problem? he has a crush on the same girl george does: angelina johnson. the story spans over a couple of months in their second last year at hogwarts.

fred weasley x ravenclaw!fem!reader

word count: ±1.4 k

tw: nothing really??

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my masterlist:D

ft. cassius warrington

wit beyond measure is man's greatest treasure

a mastermind

after fred and george weasley had given up trying to enter the triwizard tournament, their sights set on a different matter. for george, it had always roamed his head. for fred, it simply popped up at the randomest of a time.

they were in the age of chasing after pretty girls with pretty smiles.

one pretty girl in particular. angelina johnson.

george's crush really wasn't a crush. it was more like a deep love for angie. he knew her really well, they were almost best friends. and angie loved him back.

fred knew both these facts, yet he couldn't possibly grasp why he still had a good old schoolboy crush on her. and he couldn't tell george either. no, george was too considerate and needed a girlfriend. and he had been patiently waiting long enough to deserve something.

sometimes he wished he was george. still funny and prank-loving, but calm and collected at times. but sometimes he liked himself just as he was. spontaneous, dramatic and terribly idiotic.

and hey, george was handsome, so he must be too, right?

one morning after tossing and turning all night, he decided he needed help.

he spotted the girl in the blue uniform and the glasses, she had the brightest yet the wisest eyes. even before he approached her, she swiftly lifted her head from the parchment she had been writing on and saw him. she met eyes with him. she didn't show any emotion she hadn't already been showing, but the simplicity of understanding was written, like all the ravenclaws, in her brain.

"um, hello," fred started.

"good afternoon, what's up?" y/n replied friendlily, parchment now away and now doodling randomly on a scrap piece of it.

"i need some help."

"okay then, go on, i'm listening," her tone was gentle and reassuring.

"i like the same girl as my brother. i don't know what to do, really."

there was silence for a little while. her eyes were focused, her hand absentmindedly drawing across the parchment.

she pushed her glasses up.

"would you consider this 'liking' you say, to be potentially love?"

"no, not at all, it's just a crush, y'know."

"a silly one? i know we all have silly crushes which are full of quite foolish feelings. but they're nice for a while."

"yeah, that's the feeling."

"why do you think you like this girl?"

"um, because-because she's pretty, and she's nice."

"two very valid reasons," y/n chirped, "and why does your brother like this girl?"

"he loves her, because she understands him and she puts up with him and they've been best friends for years. they like the same things and have the same beliefs."

"mhm."

she was still deep in thought.

"does this girl like one of you?"

"that's the problem. she's in love with him and we all know that. i just can't get over her."

"oh, moving on is easier than you think it is. simply put, your brother or the girl?"

your brother or the girl?

everything seemed so much more clearer.

"think about it this way, fred weasley, if your brother is happy, are you? good day, sir!" she saluted jokingly and set off merrily, her steps quick and paced.

she knew it was good to be cheerful around him, because if she was cynical and way too practical, it would break him. he needed to get over angelina, she thought, or it would severely affect his and george's brotherhood.

she didn't tell him that though, that would be mean and sad.

fred was quite astounded. he didn't know how this girl, who was, to him, small in size and in ego, and probably younger by a few months, knew this much.

that's the eagleclaws for you, he thought.

she didn't look intimidating, if anything, she was nice and fun, but she somehow seemed like she could be the end of you.

she knew, she knew, she knew.

she knew who the girl was, who the brother was, she knew more about him than he did himself, and she barely knew him. she about solved his issue.

he found himself being drawn to her. instead of his eyes floating to angie, they were on the chatting, studying, daydreaming girl who wore the ravenclaw blue with much nonchalence.

☆

y/n was freezing. it was the end of the school day and it was snowing. so she made her way to the ravenclaw common room, muttering a haphazard answer to the riddle, told her best friend julia that she was going to take a nap and then bundled up in the heavy sheets.

julia just smirked. she quickly went to grab fred.

"oi, fred!"

he was laughing with george and lee.

they would make cute babies, julia pondered.

"oh, hello," he said.

"come with me."

her tone was ominous and commanding.

"okayyyy."

he followed her to the ravenclaw common room, where she sat down next to a telephone.

"in a few minutes, y/n will call for a blanket because it's cold. just wait."

"and how does this concern me?"

he got a scorching glance in return.

"i have to talk to cassius in a few minutes."

sure enough, the phone rang.

"juliaaa, you're a darling, you know that right??" y/n flattered her.

"yeap." julia's face broke into a smile.

"yeah, so be a darling and could you please possibly send a nice blanket up here?? or two or even three??"

"of course, and a handsome prince with the hair colour of fire too to cuddle," she winked at fred who turned red.

"yEs oF cOurSe, juLiE, aNd prEfEraBlY thAt hE hAs sTaRs iN hIs eyEs aNd gAlAxIeS iN hIs MinD tOo," she joked back.

"okay. right up."

"wha- julia what??!!! thanks."

they both chuckled.

he handed fred a stack of neatly folded blue blankets.

"go. fifth door on the left."

and so he did. it seemed the ravenclaws were too mature to need barriers on their dormitory quarters. the door was open and the room was insanely neat. y/n was lying in a bed, eyes wide open, a small pout on her lips.

she was clearly surprised to see him. when he placed all the blankets nicely on her she smiled.

"thank you, freddie."

"aren't you gonna let me in too?" he asked, smirking.

"oh," her cheeks heated up, "i thought julia was just joking!!!"

"apparently i am indeed a handsome prince with hair of fire, stars in his eyes and galaxies in his mind," fred smirked and y/n huffed.

"it's an expression. and i didn't know she was talking about you!"

"well, scoot over."

y/n just stared at him, before shuffling over.

"i hate you."

fred just scooped her up in his arms.

"you smell good," she blurted out, before immediately turning red.

"mhm, 'pparently my cologne does have that effect on girls."

"pretty sad that only your cologne attracts girls," y/n retorted, "and i was just telling you. it does not have an effect on me."

"'kay, whatever you say."

there was a silence.

"this is boring," y/n frowned.

"wanna make out then?"

y/n glanced at him. was he for real?

she thought not. so she pretended she was asleep, and soon she really was.

fred didn't feel defeated at all.

for he had noticed the faint blush rise on her cheeks.

☆

y/n decided it was probably time she asked fred out or something. if she got rejected, she was great at moving on.

so she asked him to meet her at the corner of the library on a thursday afternoon. he didn't show.

dismayed, she went out of the library, and met george weasley.

"hey george!"

"yello!"

"have you seen fred?"

"check the astronomy tower."

"okay."

there was something mischievous about the way he winked at her as she departed. then again, it was george.

the astronomy tower was well lit and there in all his glory, stood fred. she felt a frown on her face as she approached him. he turned around and smirked at her.

"stop it. i invited you to the library to tell you that-"

her voice was muffled as fred put a hand to her lips.

"you are not going to beat me to this."

"this isn't a game!"

"eh, everything is. i really really really like you, y/n."

he anxiously awaited her answer.

a cheshire cat smile formed on her lips.

"well i was just going to tell you that transfiguration homework is due tomorrow but okay."

"..." he was staring grumpily at her, lips in a pout.

"i like you too."

he smiled, "good."

"isn't this the part you ask me on a date or something?" y/n teased, "or should i? wanna go to hogsmeade with me?"

"you beat me to it."

[beyondspaceandstars]

While You Sleep

Chapter 12

Relationship: Bucky Barnes x Reader Warnings: kidnapping, violence Summary: Soulmate!AU - Throughout life, you’re given glimpses of your soulmate through dreams. As you sleep, memories flash in your mind showing you the life your soulmate has lived. Everyone around you raves about how their soulmate reads great books or volunteers in their spare time. But you can’t relate as your dreams end up being more like nightmares. Through initial images of death and violence, you come to learn your soulmate is the Winter Soldier.

Masterlist | Series Masterlist

“They couldn’t take that from me. They could never take you.”

“I never want to bring you pain or worry, okay? That shouldn’t be what… we do.”

Bucky’s words rang in your head as you sat in the lonesome cell, fighting for release any way you thought to try. But naturally, these attempts of wrangling yourself out of this had fallen flat and you weren’t trying anymore, that’s for certain. It only made the restraints dig into your wrists more. Not to mention you were beyond tired hitting a point of exhaustion that you didn't know was possible. You weren’t given a chance to relax as you sat on edge, waiting. Waiting for what - or really who - you didn’t quite know. 

Sure, you had an Avenger for a soulmate (at least, that was what you considered Bucky, despite his humbleness) but you weren’t exactly up to date on their enemies. From your understanding, between the looks of the facility and your soulmate’s history, this was seeming like the work of Hydra. But they had been abolished...right? Apparently, you didn’t know anymore and doubts rang in your head as you feared you weren’t some random victim.

The first signs of daylight were just beginning to peek into your cell from a very tiny, thin window located near the top of the wall beside you.

Suddenly, a grumbling voice called from outside the cell. “She’s up.” You whipped your head towards the sound, just barely able to make out a figure illuminated by the early morning glow. There was probably some comment to make to whoever this was about how you hadn’t really slept but you couldn’t find your voice at the moment.

“Excellent.” A deeper, possibly older, voice called from down the hall. The man sounded way too excited for your liking. Your stomach threatened to empty its contents as heavy footsteps began making their way towards your cell.

When the steps stopped, you tried squinting through the minimal light but still couldn’t make out much of either man. If you had to guess, they looked like some doctors of sorts in long lab coats with notebooks in hand. One thing you definitely could tell was that they didn’t hesitate to stare back. You could feel their eyes taking you in over and over again making your heart pound in a weirdly familiar way.

“Does she speak?” The first man asked with a humorless scoff. You twisted in your wrist restraints wishing for some courage to get up and maybe put space between you. 

Mustering a scrap of energy, you turned away from the men, hoping maybe your matted hair falling in your face could block them out forever. Because really, couldn’t this be forever? How would anyone know what happened? Your best bet was your coworker noticing your absence but then you thought of Bucky… He was away for now and by the time he caught wind who knows what would be of you. Tears began welling in your eyes at the thought of this being it for you -- whatever this was. You still weren’t sure what about you compelled these men to kidnap you in the middle of the night.

“Hey,” the same voice called out to you this time, pulling you from your troubling thoughts. Slowly, you turned back to him, taking in more of the doctor (fake, you guessed) persona now. “I asked if you speak.”

“No,” you grumbled. You didn’t know where this smart response came from but it made you feel a bit better like you were coming back to yourself. Really, though, you were in no position to start getting smart with anyone.

He let out a joyous laugh that sent far more fear through you. “The Soldier’s soulmate has an attitude, huh?”

Soldier? Bucky. Your heart panged at another thought of him. If that’s who they were referring to, this was to be about Bucky, you realized. These men knew him and whatever connection was festered there, it hadn't fizzled and you were caught in the crossfire. This actually couldn’t be them… But it looked like it.

Suddenly, the cell door opened with a loud screech, and the two men walked into the full glory of the morning sunrise. There, on their white coats, you saw an emblem of what appeared to be some tentacle-bearing creature. Your suspicions were regrettably confirmed. 

They walked towards you, their eyes looking over you as if you were an experiment and they were memorizing you. With fear racing through you, you slowly began scooting backward trying to get as far away as you could. Your back eventually hit a wall and they just kept coming. 

“Quite the squeamish one for being chained to The Soldier,” the second man observed, writing something down in his notebook. You could see now that he was much older, having that wiser look in his older years. You guessed he was a leader of sorts (at least, that was how you were going to file him in your head) and the other man, the one who was so kind to comment on your attitude, was some kind of assistant. You couldn’t take your eyes off the logo on their coats as it was practically screaming in your face. It all felt impossible and yet here you were, in the belly of the beast.

“W-What am I doing here?” You asked, your voice scratchy and nervous. Honestly, you were just glad you had the guts to make any noise. The assistant looked a bit humored at your question.

“Wow, she speaks full sentences,” he commented with an unsettling smirk. 

The “leader” of the pair shot him a look before turning back to speak to you. “We have some observing to do, my dear,” he briefly explained.

The vagueness of it all was certainly not helping you - like anything realistically could in this moment. Still, you pursued it. “Observing?”

He hummed in response, turning back for a moment to write a few more lines in the notebook. Truthfully, you wanted to just kick it out of his fucking hand. Your eyes flicked quickly to the assistant but he wasn’t handing out any hints, just looking at you like you were something to be conquered. Oh, how you wanted to vomit on their shiny dress shoes.

“I will explain our intentions to ease your mind,” he snapped his notebook shut, “but first, you are to be moved.”

And just like, as if his words were keys, a hoard of men entered the cell and hoisted you to your feet. You tried kicking and screaming but they were strong. Maybe too strong. A strength you possibly could only recall in two other men you knew. But you didn’t have time to dwell on it as they corralled you easily and forced you down the hall. 

Everything was dark again. There was no light from the windows in the hall, just some musty glows of lightbulbs hanging from the ceiling. You didn’t know where to look so you just stared downward, taking in the metal flooring that made you chilled.

After turning a few corners, you were brought to a much larger cell. This one at least had a chair, but you didn’t think it was exactly a nice grand gesture as your eyes landed on the restraints attached to it. The second thing you noticed was some sort of computer-like machine and rolling tables which lined the side. If you hadn’t known better, you would’ve thought this was just another medical office. 

You yelped as one of the large men threw you on the chair, not giving you a second to even adjust before your hands were unbound only to be rebound by the chair’s restraints.  You tugged a bit at them out of reflex, finding them as sturdy as expected. Your legs were free, though, maybe offering some tactic but exhaustion and fear overtook you.

Once they deemed you settled in, the army of men left, walking in line as commandingly as they had entered. The leader and his assistant stayed, waiting for you three to finally be alone once more. The door shut with a disturbing bang, really sealing your fate. The assistant stayed off to the side, leaning against a wall adjacent to the chair. The leader walked over to you, taking a seat on some rolling stool. Wow, these guys really thought they were serious professionals or something.

“I hope the trip here was okay,” the leader said with a chuckle. “Comfortable?” He motioned towards your lounging state. You blinked. “I see we are losing that attitude. What a shame, really. I’m sure your soulmate loves a firecracker.” Your body visibly tensed at the mention of Bucky. The elderly man didn’t miss it. In fact, it seemed like you unintentionally gave him the perfect segue into his whole evil spiel.

“Ah, yes, your soulmate.” The leader nodded as if he had just forgotten all about it. “Well, you see, the fact he even has one was news to us,” he shrugged and glanced at his assistant who nodded in confirmation. “We were sure when we wiped him we were wiping everything, so imagine our surprise when we find out he’s out and about dancing - with you on his arm.” 

Your throat tightened as the memories of you and Bucky at the dance hall flooded your mind. It had been so busy that night you never would’ve thought you’d have to worry about someone… It sounded so ludicrous to you. You almost wish he hadn’t said it as the thoughts of that night were suddenly a bit darker. The carelessness you two had held seemed foolish now. 

The leader watched you carefully. When you didn’t say anything in response, just blinked away more tears, he continued, “At first, we were quite angry we had missed something so big. We could’ve sworn we broke every attachment time after time but, as I said, you just swept The Soldier right off his feet. So, naturally, our sights were set on eliminating you.” He let out a ridiculous hearty laugh. “But then my assistant here,” the man in the corner waved in response, “realized that that would be a waste. There could be potential here for you. For you and your soulmate. Potential rooted in a team. Two unbreakable soldiers, both in bond and skills. What more could Hydra want?” 

You gasped, your eyes growing wide, at the explanation. You didn’t know what to do now, your body had a mind of its own as it began shaking your head furiously as your wrists tugged and tugged at the restraints. This wasn’t realistic. They were absolutely mad. What kind of foolishness was this? They couldn’t possibly -

“Now, now,” the leader chuckled and turned to his notebook. He began checking referencing stuff from the monitor to the paper. “Don’t get too excited. We’re still brainstorming the whole concept and while it’s not near execution, it is on the promising side. There is, though, a vital component we seem to be lacking: your soulmate.”

Bucky… Your heart felt like it was going to rip itself out of your chest. Was he walking into a trap? Assuming he was walking in at all? Who was to say he had any idea of what was going on with you? How long could this all be for… You let out a surprising sob.

The leader responded to your outburst with an annoyed scoff. “There’s no reason to cry, dear. He’s sure to be here soon thanks to that little bond you have. If he hasn’t already recognized your distress by now, well, he’s not as smart as we thought.” He shrugged and began typing away on the monitor’s keyboard. “The whole attachment may all work out in our favor after all. Eventually, you two will be reunited, and won’t that be just lovely?”

Truthfully, you didn’t know anymore. You had no doubt in Bucky’s fighting abilities but these guys were… Well, they were pretty much responsible for him and everything you had seen him be put through. Who knows what they could do if (and when) he walked through those doors. You were lucky you hadn’t passed out yet from this anxiety alone.

“Besides, as I said, it’s all later down the line anyway,” the leader said. It had suddenly occurred to you at that moment that you were very glad he hadn’t given out his name. You couldn’t imagine humanizing these monsters. “For now, though, we are interested in learning more about you. I’ll be honest, on paper you are quite boring. Barely finished high school, left college for a coffee shop job… The pairing is almost comical. We just can’t figure out what you offer him and while, really, who are we to question Fate? But I still think in time we can figure out...well, whatever it is about you.”

You shook your head slowly, your eyes barely even able to focus on him anymore. Everything in you felt so heavy. “I’m not special.” 

“Oh, but that’s where you’re wrong,” the leader chuckled. “He makes you special.”

As if on cue, a chorus of screams erupted from the hallway. You all jumped and turned towards the door. There was a little window on it but all you three could see were the bodies of the army of men from earlier flying about. 

“Sooner than we expected,” the leader mumbled and began furiously typing something into the computer.

You didn’t know what to do besides sit there and wait for whatever was coming. Deep in you, you knew it was Bucky, you could feel it. You could feel him. But there was also a part of you that could also sense… rage. A very familiar, unsettling rage burned within him. It made you wonder if you actually wanted to see him in such a state. Some sick piece of you wished they had just knocked you out. 

There wasn’t much more time to consider what you were going to do as the door to the cell was ripped off. Literally, fully, ripped away at the hinges to reveal a very determined, very angry, Bucky. He had an expression you didn’t recall seeing before, even in the nightmares. He looked ready to murder everything in its path but there was no calculated strategy to the madness. It seemed to be just him and his pure desire to eliminate anything and everything. His eyes were locked deadly on the older man, seemingly opting to ignore you. The assistant had begun shifting further away into the corner of the space.

“So nice of you to join us,” the leader said with an unsettling laugh. “I’ll admit, we weren’t expecting you so soon. I barely got a chance to get to know your little darling here.” He motioned towards you. 

“I’m only going to ask this once,” Bucky finally spoke, his voice strained, “let her go.”

The leader smiled, “I’m not sure you’ll be asking for anything in a moment, anyways.” He motioned towards the computer. You and Bucky followed his motion with matching bewildered expressions. “In fact, I think you’ll be the one doing what I ask.”

Bucky’s eyes widened. “No-,” 

But it was already set in motion. With a simple press of a button, the room filled with an electronic voice repeating a series of words in a foreign language. You looked around, unsure of where this could even be coming from and what the hell was being said, Your eyes eventually settled on Bucky who looked completely… lost. You gripped the sides of the chair, begging for this to just be over, as you watched that was so familiar. You could feel the memories rising from the depths of your brain. Hidden away, nearly suppressed... You gasped. The nightmares. That’s what all this was. They had pulled the trigger. 

As much as you loved and trusted Bucky, you couldn’t say the same for the other guy. If in that state, could he even recognize you? Like, fully understand your role? You didn’t want to find out, truly. The panic that was settling in now was unlike anything you had experienced that day. Not even the idea of Hydra goons kidnapping you had sparked this much within. 

You were preparing yourself for the worst as you watched Bucky try to shake it off. The leader wore a proud expression while the assistant kept his lonely distance, watching everything unfold. Suddenly, Bucky began mumbling to himself as his hands made hard fists. You thought the blow was finally coming and he was going to be gone. Just like that.

But then Bucky lunged. In one swift move, he pounced on the leader, taking everyone in the room off-guard, especially the target of the aggression. The older man hadn’t even had a chance to put his arms up before your soulmate was punching him relentlessly. Bucky’s yelling in the process was of pure, expressive anger, completely drowning out the screams of pain from the leader. You didn’t know what to do. You wanted to look away so badly but you were also hypnotized. Bucky was so determined and unwavering in whatever goal was planted in his head. A bit thankful someone would go to such lengths for you, you had had enough of such danger in your sleep - you didn’t want it in your reality. 

Bucky switched suddenly to strangling the man and that seemed to be the final straw for the leader’s life. The older man was soon just a lifeless, limp body on the floor. Bucky was still knelt above him, watching the soul drain from his victim. Your jaw went slack. You couldn’t turn this off.

The assistant didn’t help it as he made some foolish break for the exit but Bucky was just as fast. In a couple of determined strides, Bucky yanked the younger man back by the neck and threw him into the wall creating an artistic indentation. The assistant fell to the floor with a chilling thud. 

There was no one left for his sights to land on except for you. Slowly, Bucky turned around. A shiver ran up your spine when your eyes finally met. You didn’t know who was standing before you. Whatever or whoever this was quickly began stomping their way towards you. You shut your eyes and flinched away, waiting for a painful, finishing blow from the Soldier. 

But it never came. 

Instead, all Bucky did was lean over to turn off the speakers and then began untying your wrists. Hesitantly, you turned to look at him but found he wouldn’t look at you, just was intensely concentrated on the restraints. 

“B-Bucky?” Your voice was scratchy as you fumbled over his name. 

“It’s me, doll,” Bucky responded with an exhausted sigh. He sounded normal to you, his demeanor not even looking close to what you remembered from the nightmares. He… He was okay. Bucky still wasn’t looking at you as he finished one restraint then went on the next.

“You’re not…”

Bucky shook his head. “Everything’s okay,” he mumbled. “We’re getting you out of here.”

“We?”

“The team is outside handling the other men.”

“You all came for me?”

Bucky finally looked up at you. For the first time, you could see just how tired he looked. A man nearly on the brink of defeat and enduring the fight. Your heart ached as all you wanted to do was crawl into his arms and take the longest naps of your lives. 

“Of course, sweetheart,” Bucky nodded. Gently, after the last restraint was undone, he picked you up bridal style. You threw your arms around his neck and buried your face in his shoulder, letting yourself relax and the tears flow. 

“Thank you,” you mumbled but Bucky didn’t respond as he carried you out of the facility

***

You must’ve fallen asleep because a few hours later you awoke at some sort of compound. You were lying in what appeared to be a hospital bed but nothing about this place looked like a typical hospital. The technology was too advanced and everything just seemed too quiet. You looked around, letting your eyes adjust to the bright light of the sun shining in from the large room windows. In the corner, you were greeted by the sight of Bucky sleeping awkwardly in a chair.

You twisted in the bed, trying to get more comfortable under the blanket. The super-soldier hearing must’ve kicked in because one ruffle of the blanket made Bucky’s eyes shoot open. He looked at you, panic shifting to relief when he saw you were awake. Quickly, in a few steps, he was out of the chair and at your bedside. 

“How are you feeling?” He asked softly. His hand went to touch your cheek but he must've thought better of it and instead lowered it. Your heart broke a bit wondering what self-deprecating thoughts were running through his brain after everything he had to do. 

“I’m okay. Just a bit sore,” you shrugged but boy was it the hard truth. You hadn't been in a comfortable position in hours and endured being thrown around like some rag doll. 

“Do you need any medicine?” Bucky asked, his voice suddenly having an air of panic to it. “I can call for help if you need it. Are you hungry? Do you need water? Or -  Or just anything to drink? I can get you-,”

“Bucky…” You placed your hand on his to calm down. He flinched at your touch. “I’m fine. Everything is fine.”

He shook his head. “Nothing is fine, sweetheart. You were taken from me-,” Bucky cut himself off as his eyes began welling with tears. He looked wrecked as he stared down at you, taking in your current state. You felt the pain, wanting nothing more than to make all these torturing thoughts vanish. “You… You saw things that I just… I never wanted you to deal with-,”

“It’s over.” You took a deep breath. “I’m here, I’m safe, and you’re with me.”

Bucky closed his eyes as if preparing for something. “After what happened back there, do you even want me around anymore?”

Your jaw went slack at his question. Sure, there was absolutely no denying that the events of today scared you, most likely more than you realized. You had only seen Bucky that determined and violent in your nightmares so to see it just steps away was jarring. But you also knew nothing changed within him. He wasn’t a robot or anything. He wasn’t someone just taking commands. He had remorse. You certainly couldn’t say the same for who greeted you in your sleep. It may take you some time to adjust, sure, but you weren’t turning away. At least, you were going to try not to. Healing was just beginning.

“Of course, I do,” you said, raising your other hand to Bucky’s cheek. At first, he flinched but slowly he leaned into the touch, sighing like he was letting go of something. “Bucky, what happened back there… You had no choice. I don’t have to tell you that those were some very, very bad people. They had it coming and the fact you went to those lengths to save me is unbelievable.”

“I’d go to the ends of the Earth for my girl,” Bucky admitted. 

You let out a weak giggle. “Thank you.” A pause. “May I ask how you figured out I was in trouble?”

Bucky smirked. “I had a nightmare.”

You raised your brows in surprise. “A nightmare?”

He nodded, “I started to feel weird after leaving for the mission like there was something I was missing. A little later on, I was taking a nap and you of course appeared but it was unlike any other dream I had ever had about you. It was… You were scared, deathly afraid of something, and then I saw what was going on. I practically watched it all play out from your apartment and on. It didn’t take too long to put everything together.”

You hmm’d. “Thank God for nightmares.”

Bucky chuckled and placed a light kiss on your forehead. “Thank God for nightmares,” he repeated in agreement.

[lilsuzn]

MLQC Victor - NSFW abc headcanons (REMASTERED)

Fandom: Mr. Love: Queen’s Choice

Warnings: Explit sexual content (GN READER)

it's what I posted a while ago, but better - I changed some things, I deleted some thing and wrote new. I think it's much better now

A = Aftercare (What they are after sex?)

Victor is a man that has his values straight

You are the most important part of his life (even if he sometimes struggles to shop it) and he will do anything for you… and only for you

Other people don’t matter. He only takes what he wants and leaves.

But you - his sweetest, dearest, little love… can ask anything and everything (well, almost - see N).

You crave massages? He will buy the most luxurious oils on the market, might even take a course to perfect his skills to give you more pleasure

Want to take a bath? He will have a bathtub installed if he doesn’t have one already

Pillowtalk, kissing, snuggling, another round? No need to say it twice. He leaves to please you

When it comes to him, he likes to pull you close and tell you all the things he has no courage to say at any other time

Leave no space for misunderstanding in the department of his unconditional, boundless, eternal love and devotion for you

Tell you just how happy he is to have you and how everything is worthless in comparison to you

After he makes sure you’ve been pleasured throughly already, he will want to share a shower

And make no mistake - he will wash you. You can wash him too, if you want, but taking care of that pretty body of yours is his responsibility

B = Body part (Their favourite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

His favorite body part is his waist

It wasn’t easy to get that V shaped body and he is extremely proud of this accomplishment…

Especially when he sees your hungry gaze roaming his torso up and down

And you… He couldn’t possibly choose one part

Beautiful legs, rounded butt, soft abdomen and that gorgeous, gorgeous smile

Yeah…

No…

That would be your thighs when it comes to the sexual aspect

You have such a delicate skin there. So suckable. Kissable. More plush than any pillow could ever be

He feels so secure and at ease when they squeeze around his head as you ride his face.

The sound of his hips slapping against them - heavenly

Not much can make him calmer than your lovely, plump thighs

C = Cum (Anything to do with cum)

It should come (hihihi) as no surprise that he loves to spill inside

It’s so intimate… Bonding…

Doesn’t really like to cum onto you for reasons he himself doesn’t really understand

It just feels… somewhat degrading? And he doesn’t like it that way?

Then again cuming into your mouth is a strong YES. Maybe it’s because of how enthusiastically you take him in

How you collect all the spill from your chin and lick it off your fingers like it was some kind of delicious delicacy

That sight makes him hard all over again…

D = Dirty secret (Pretty self explanatory - a dirty secret of theirs)

He has a folder of your photos on his computer

Some of them were taken with consent… Some without you realising…

Because you were in his bed sleeping in your naked glory… And he could only stop himself the first, like 20 (?) times

He sorts them by aesthetic and cuteness/sexiness

Jacks off to them when you’re not around

Most of them are very artistic. He tries his best to make them as good as the ones he was using before you… (see J)

E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)

He slept with a few girls in college, but he saw it only as ‘taking care of his sexual needs’ - no real feelings included

He had one dedicated booty call - a girl who fell in love with him despite him saying that he only only sees her for sex

That period really allowed him to explore his sexuality

So he knows what he likes and what to do, so his partner likes it too

F = Favorite position (This goes without saying)

Everything when he takes you from the back

He’s rather keen on yanking hair, slaping ass…

But when it comes to the person he loves - you, he likes to face each other during sex

He wants to kiss your face, neck and chest. Nuzzle his face into your abdomen while he’s going down from his height

Your legs thrown over his shoulders so he can slap his hips against your soft thighs

Or legs pressed to your sides, hands gripping your thighs

And he can’t even attempt to lie he doesn’t absolutely love when you sit on his lap… or get on top in general

Or when your thighs grip his head when you 69 on the couch while ‘watching’ a movie. Your lips sloppy around him as his tongue pleasures you with most precision and dedication

G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc.)

No goofy.

If they start to joke around, they get spanked. HARD.

H = Hair (How well groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.)

Victor is a passionate swimmer, so most of his body is hairless

But he doesn’t shave his pubes. Finds it weird to be completely bare down there and the first time he had sex with a completly hairless girl, he was a bit taken aback with her baby like smoothness.

Only trims them with a ‘pubes razor’ which is his old razor that he doesn’t use for face anymore, because he got a better one from his aunt for Christmas

Carpet matches the drapes

I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment? The romantic aspect)

No goofy.

Only love and eternal devotion.

He will caress and leave kisses all over your body. Keep you close in the warmest and most loving embrace

No dummies or idiots in bed. Only treasures and loves

Almost like he’s trying to make it up to you for his tendency to be so aloof on a daily basis

The sweet talk doesn’t stop there, but I already said everything about it in A

J = Jack off (Masturbation headcanon)

This man didn’t have time to waste on women when he was building his empire, so he naturally spend quite a lot of his life masturbating instead of having sex

He doesn’t really enjoy porn, though. It’s too cartoonish for him. He much prefers to look through lingerie commercials or nude photoshoots - the more artistic the better

After he reunites with you, he starts to feel all that pent up sex tension and starts to jack off almost every day

Thinking about you. Looking at photos of you. Carving you with every small bit of his being

K = Kink (One or more of their kinks)

First of all - seeing his partner being pleasured. Either by him or by a vibrating toy plugged into them or pressed against their sensitive spots. He doesn’t even pump himself watching. He’s way too consumed with the enticing sights

Double penetration. His huge dick in one whole, dildo in another… Just thinking about it gets him going

He can’t deny himself at least some manhandling (if you consent - obv). Although he doesn’t go full on dom every time (at least with you) he seems to be unable to deny himself some hair pulling and choking... Although he almost does it lovingly? Spanking and whipping will surely also happen from time to time. Can get very rough when jealous

Also a slight daddy kink. When he hears it slip past your lips in the form of a joke - he feels some strange tingling in his groin and it’s not a venereal disease

If you sit on his lap, make a cute, helpless expression and ask daddy to play with you… It just turns him into a primal animal with no self restraint

That he kinda always seems to be

L = Location (Favourite places to do the do)

Where nobody can hear them

Or see them

Anywhere with a stable surface really, but he needs to know you will have full privacy

Would never agree for public sex

All the sweet sounds and expressions he makes you do are his and only his to experience

M = Motivation (What turns them on/gets them going)

Stress, irritation, anger, hurt… Sex is a great way for him to gat this weight of his chest since he doesn’t really like to think those negative feeligs through

Or any feelings, if we’re at it

A nice butt is also a motivation, especially when it’s attached to a fine pair of legs

But both of these factors aren’t a guarantee of a turn on and even if they have that impact on him, he still will most likely not act on it

What he really struggles to control is a real attraction that reaches what’s beyond physical

A beautiful, hardworking and open-minded person is something Victor finds hard to ignore

N = No (Something they wouldn’t do/turn offs)

No sharing

No blood play

No permanent marking

Nothing too forcefull or aggressive

No sex before assigning boundaries and exchanging preferences

O = Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

As I already said In B, Victor is an oral lover

More into giving than receiving, but would never push his lover away

(you can always 69, right?)

The man is humming in pleasure as his tongue slides along your sex

Is more than willing to go for hours if only you let him

The more you moan the more intense his movements become

His main goal is to please

The secondary one is to be the best at yet another thing

P = Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual? etc.)

He has two base modes

One: I love you, my sweet creature - all about measured, unhurried but hard thrust. True, pure love-making

Two: Little girls don’t get a say in how daddy fucks them - you’re tearing up, sobbing, drooling and he gets even more turned on by it. Fucks harder and faster then you both believed possible. Years of engaging in sports come to show themselves

Q = Quickie (Their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

He will participate when the occasion occurs

Might even initiate an occasion

But it’s not really sex for him. It’s a quickie

And when compared to the real love-making with you… it’s just meh

R = Risk (Are they game to experiment? Do they take risks? etc.)

When it comes to taking risks, I believe I already made it clear that he isn’t too into that

If someone walked in you, it would be very upsetting for him

If you got accidentally hurt would break his heart

But experiment he would happily

New toys, new positions, new kinks… He will try anything once

Well, almost anything (see N)

S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go for? How long do they last?)

We all have our better and worst days, and this man has a whole company to run. It’s only natural for him to be tired

So usually he won’t last for more than one round. Maybe 3 on weekends

But will last a while if he sets a slower pace (see P)

On vacations however, after a few days of rest his stamina will increase dramatically

Have you seen this guy’s torso? Exactly

He has some stamina to spare

T = Toys (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)

Not against, although he prefers to experiment with positions that to experiment with toys

Will probably never propose any, except when he knows his partner is into such things

If you do - Victor will do his research and find something exciting for you to enjoy

U = Unfair (How much they like to tease)

He really is not patient enough for that

Doesn’t have time for it either

Why would he even want to? They’re unsatisfied = he’s unsatisfied (as I mentioned in K)

He sees no appeal in it. When he wants to fuck, he wants to fuck. No reason to beat around the bush

V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Victor can be a bit more talkative than usual during the foreplay

Throughs some praise (a lot of it)

Tell you about his feelings (but not too much at that point)

About things that made him jealous…

A quiet Fuck may leave his lips when he enters you and when he’s about to come

In the middle of those two - he’s rather silent

Not much of a moaner

He grunts and growls a lot though. Can get a little bit loud from time

W = Wild card (A random headcanon for the character)

It was a sunny, autumn day. You were walking down the street. You’re fingers entwined. The sunlight was gracing your beautiful features so gorgeously… and he had already been yearning for so long

When you’ve finally reached the Souvenir’s door, the man is all worked up

Not that you could tell from his steely expression

But you sure got suspicious when he got all touchy feely out of the sudden

Not that you would ever mind - obviously

Feather light kisses on the nape of your neck and shoulders. Fingertips caressed your waist to then slide down to your hips. Then he reached for the hem of your dress…

“I love you…” he whispered in your ear

Goosebumps momentarily appeared on your skin as all the intense feelings he had been making you experience from the very day you saw him for the first time in his office travel down your spine in a form of a intense shiver

You wanted him. So bad. For so long.

And there was no hiding his feelings for you at that moment as you turned your head to face him

Soon after stomach was pressed against the kitchen counter. Your naked butt was all out on display for Victor to squeeze and spank as you squirmed and moaned under his touch

Victor didn’t take any unnecessary time to move his long, broad fingers down, to stroke your sensitive slit

He praised you for being so wet, so flushed, so eager for him

X = X-Ray (Let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

“I love you, too” you whispered to his ear as his arms pressed you as close to his body as possible, while you were still going back from your highs

And after that, from his lips slipped the words of the most sincere adoration… and true love

Words you would never expect to leave his beautiful, soft mouth

Matches the rest of the man

Long and thick

No curvature. Perfectly straight

Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)

Rather average

Ha has periods when he doesn’t even think about it

And he has ones when he can’t stop thinking about it

However he doesn’t go too much either way

Z = Zzz… (How quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Remember what I said in S? Applies here as well

He’s a hardworking man

Simplu needs to work hard to keep his business growing and to keep his lover pleased

Then he just needs to get some rest. Don’t try to change his mind because he will

If he’s well rested however, he won’t let you sleep

Like, not a chance. You need to come at least five times. He doesn’t make the rules, sorry

[mandoalorian]

Borrowed Time [Din Djarin x F!Reader]

ੈ♡˳‧₊*: • Chapter 2: The Way ✩࿐ ˚.✧

Summary: You are the princess of Mandalore, held hostage on your own planet by Moff Gideon and his army of Imperial troopers. Left with no choice, you send out a distress signal; a plea for protection— and who comes? None other than Din Djarin, a foundling of The Death Watch. He, by creed, is your sworn enemy. And where you have asked for his protection, he has been told by his mentor that he must marry you and gain the ability to restore Mandalore to its former glory.

Word Count: 2500>

Warnings: Domestic!Din comes with his own warning.

Series Masterlist **reblogs appreciated!

Din pulled up the throttle and exited hyperspace, thankful that he was now in the perimeter of the hot and arid world of Mandalore. He'd never been to Mandalore before, only heard talks and folklore from the creed who raised him. He had thought that, since the war, Mandalore had become inhospitable. He'd thought a lot of things— but now, as it turned out, not everything was as it seemed.

When the Imperials took over Mandalore, it was said that they slaughtered the monarchy, ruthlessly, and showed no remorse. Whilst no body of yours was ever discovered, the absence in communication from you, the princess, was enough to assume that you had passed away alongside the other Mandalorians. Kriff— even a memorial had been held for you.

Din didn't know how to feel… he was being sent out to protect and marry a princess. Him, out of all people. Din sighed, leaning into the plushness of his leather pilot chair. "I don't understand kid," he hummed, shaking his head as his ship glided through the stars. He watched as he neared your planet, anxiety nesting in his tummy. "Why couldn't she assign Paz to marry her? Or one of the other Mandalorians."

Grogu, Din Djarin's little green bean of a son, garbled something incoherent, blinking his big black eyes innocently. "Hey! Speak for yourself!" Din chastised, wiggling his finger. Grogu giggled and Din rolled his eyes under his beskar helmet. He had no idea how this would possibly go, but as long as he had Grogu by his side, he knew he'd be okay.

As he approached Mandalore, he set the ship for landing. He apprehended some Imp infiltrating the comms system, requesting Din to state his business; although strangely, nothing of that nature occurred. He wasn't going to argue over it. It just meant he'd spent the last four hours making up excuses as to why he was going to Mandalore for no good reason.

"I could say we're going to Mandalore for…. a farmer's market. Do you think they have a farmer's market?" Din quizzed. Grogu spluttered in disagreement. "What about… sourberry picking?" Din shrugged helplessly and Grogu made another sound of dismay. "Well I don't see you having any bright ideas!"

The child reached over to a lever on the ship and groaned wantonly, his little claws flexing as he yearned to grab the ball his father would always let him play with. Din sighed in defeat, unable to resist his son, and unscrewed the silver ball from the lever. Grogu squealed excitedly and immediately used his special powers to lift the ball in the air. He watched it float around the cockpit with a curious glint in his eyes and Din let out another deep exhale.

"No doing the magic hand thing on Mandalore either, especially not in front of the princess. You heard what the Armorer said about you guys… the Jedi. If there was a war between the Jedi and the Mandalorians then the chances are she's not going to take a liking to you lifting up rocks at your own free will. Just please be on your best behaviour. Please?" Din asked. Grogu curled his large ears in understanding and Din smiled. "Thank you. Now, I'm going to make some bone broth before we land. Want some?"

Grogu grinned happily in affirmation, his two little teeth pointing over his lips and the corners of his round eyes crinkling with delight. Bone broth sounded yummy right now.

"Your highness, The Razor Crest has requested permission to land in docking bay 94 of the palace. Do you accept or deny?" An Imperial soldier asked you.

You blinked momentarily. Razor Crest? That ship was pre-Empire. "Yes, that's fine." you nodded casually, looking down at your hands until the guard had left your quarters.

You had to play it cool. Nobody knew that you had sent out a distress call and nobody could know— it had to remain a secret, because if an Imp found out, they'd have no choice but to tell Moff Gideon. And if Moff Gideon found out that you were communicating with surviving Mandalorians, he'd have you done for treason. You may have been the princess, but he was still technically the Manda'lor, and not only that, he was a high ranking Imperial officer. You couldn't mess this up.

You pulled yourself out of your bed and slid your feet into your fluffy slippers, grabbing a silk robe and draping it over your body. They were here already. You couldn't believe it. Your protection. You wondered many things; would they be human or another far off species? How many eyes would they have— and what colour? Blue? Green? Brown? Pink? Would they have hair, and if so, is it long or short, curly or straight? So many questions.

Din held Grogu tight in one arm as he left the ship, and let a nervous hand drop his thigh holster just in case he encountered any trouble. He was thankful to be able to dock within the palace walls because it meant he didn't have to walk for miles in order to reach you. The anxiety was beginning to settle in. Mandalore was important to all Mandalorians, and the monarchy was something they respected very much. Din couldn't even think about marrying you and what that meant, even though the beskar wedding rings that the Armorer had forged were already weighing him down... all he could fixate on was how he was even going to talk to you. You were literally royalty. You came from the Kryze bloodline who were some of the greatest Mandalorian leaders. He'd read about you and your people in storybooks. Leaving Nevarro was one thing; because Din had left his home planet many times to do bounties and Guild Work. But this time, he wasn't even sure when he'd return or if he'd return. Mandalore could be his new home. If he were to marry you, this could be his new life, and Din wasn't sure if he was ready for such a commitment.

As he approached the palace, a cold chill hung over his shoulders and Grogu scowled at the onlookers. The Imperials who guarded your home watched as Din walked through the gardens, their own fingers feeling very trigger happy. A Mandalorian on Mandalore? What were the chances? It was said that the Mandalorians had been obliterated; wiped out and scattered amongst the galaxy to fend for themselves. Of course it would be ridiculous to assume that their entire creed had become extinct, but no Imperial would have ever expected to see a Mandalorian, suited up in full beskar armour, back on Mandalore. Especially since the princess had been announced dead by Moff Gideon after the great take-over. Immediately, the Imperial guards knew that something wasn't right. A Mandalorian had no reason to be on Mandalore— not after everything that had happened to their people.

As Din approached the gates, he couldn't help but feel the glares of his enemies grow colder, and their stares burned into his sheathed body. Grogu made a questioning noise and Din shushed him.

"I don't know…" Din mumbled, not wanting to cause too much fuss or bring too much attention to him and his son.

The point was; the princess had accepted the Mandalorian's request to land in the palace docking bay. The princess was apprehending his arrival. She knew about this.

The two troopers who manned the entrance of the palace did open the doors to Din, although begrudgingly. The strange feeling that surrounded the duo was not lost on Din. He wondered if it was in fact a trap. Maybe the plea the Armorer had received was an old holo recording of your voice that the Imperials had utilized to get a Mandalorian sent out. Either the Imperials were expecting Din, or they weren't expecting him at all. But Din had just assumed the princess had at least made it safe for him to come.

The lobby of the palace was enormous. Beautiful marble floor that must have been centuries old. Ornaments and flower arrangements stood erect on every corner and tall, gold pillars held the building together. Din wondered where he'd find you, but his pondering was cut short when he heard your delicate footsteps clicking against the floor. He turned around, his grip on his son tightening in anticipation, but the moment his eyes met yours, his whole body deflated.

There you were; the Princess of Mandalore.

Din couldn't find words. His whole body involuntarily tensed up as his gaze raked your body. It was perfect; you were shaped like a goddess, or perhaps one of the angels from the moon of Iego. Your hair was the most beautiful colour and Din admired the way it shone under the amber candlelight. Your eyes were doe-like and sparkling just like the stars, and your lips were simply the perfect plumpless.

But your heart was struck with fear when you saw the Mandalorian; fully dressed in beskar armour and a helmet. Not a single inch of skin was on sight, and your vision immediately turned red. There was only one Mandalorian tribe who never took off their helmet; and it was the tribe who was responsible for the death of your mother. It couldn't be…

Grogu's sweet little voice interrupted the silence, his garbles echoing throughout the extensively sized yet empty room.

Your lips curled into a smile as you approached the child, extending your arms and taking him out of Din's grip. "Hello friend." you cooed, and the little green bean giggled under your touch.

"He likes you," Din said, his voice modulated from under the helmet. "He doesn't like many people."

You ignored Din's comment, too busy fussing over the child. Grogu laughed and squeaked as you caressed his floppy ears. "Grogu, hm? You're a cutie."

Din furrowed his eyebrows together, perplexed. He wasn't the best at understanding Grogu, but how did you know his name already? Din hadn't told you.

"Oh, you like it?" You asked curiously, taking your earring out of your ear and placing it in Grogu's claw. "It's a ruby."

Wait— you were talking to him. You could understand him. The only person who could fluently communicate with Grogu was Ahsoka Tano, and that was because she was force sensitive. Of course Din could understand menial gestures and phrases, but here you were, the princess of Mandalore, having a full conversation with the little green bean. For a brief second, Din considered if you had any force-like abilities similar to what Grogu and Ahsoka had. But the thought passed fleetingly. There was no way a Mandalorian could have force powers. Not after the war between Mandalore and the Jedi sorcerers.

"His name is Din Djarin… I see." you nodded knowingly at Grogu before glancing up at the Mandalorian.

"Uh- yeah, that's me," Din said awkwardly, taking a step closer to you. "It's an honour to meet you, your highness. I must admit, I wasn't expecting to visit Mandalore tonight. Or ever- really." Din rambled, picking at his mustard coloured gloves.

"Do they still… do they still think I'm dead?" you asked uncertainly. Din nodded and you swallowed. The Imperials had really done a good job of covering up your existence then. You glanced back down at Grogu, and back up at the Mandalorian. "You walked through the palace gardens… dressed like that?" you asked him with a frown.

Din looked down at his armour in bewilderment— your comment suggesting that there was something wrong with what he was wearing. "Uh- yes?"

Your eyes went comically wide and you thrusted the child back into Din's chest. "Are you out of your mind?" you gasped, slapping your hands over your mouth in distress.

Din placed a hand on his hip. "Excuse me?"

"Take off your helmet." you demanded, your eyes stone cold.

"What? No!" Din gasped, taken aback. "Why aren't you wearing your helmet?"

You blinked. "Why would I? I'm not in battle!" you argued, raising your voice slightly. "Take off your helmet, that is an order from your Manda'lor."

"How could you ask me to do such a thing?" Din asked defensively, his fingers curling around his blaster pistol. "Are you really the Manda'lor— or are you an imposter? A true Mandalorian wouldn't ask me to remove my helmet."

No. You weren't the Manda'lor, you didn't have the darksaber anymore. But Din didn't need to know that.

"Are you… are you a Child of the Watch?" you whispered, feeling genuine fear wash over you.

"What?"

"What is your tribe's mantra?" you beckoned further, your eyes desperately trying to search for his through the visor of his helmet.

"Our secrecy is our survival. Our survival is our strength. This is the way." Din informed you.

You gulped and looked away. He was Death Watch. His people were the ones who teamed with Darth Maul and attacked Mandalore. They were the ones who killed your mother, and now, for the very first time, a Death Watch Mandalorian stood right before you.

You had sworn that, on the occasion you met a Child of the Watch, they wouldn't live to see the dawn of a new day. But this man… this man was a father. And killing him would orphan a child, just like you were orphaned as a young girl. You could never do that. You were not a fighter.

"I think you should go." you whispered, hating the way the words left your lips. You sounded weak.

You were struggling to hold it together. You didn't realise how much it would hurt, seeing a Child of the Watch. You didn't realise how it would bring to life a million memories of your beautiful mother.

"What? I just got here."

"I am sorry for bringing you out here, and I'm even more sorry for asking you to remove your helmet. But you need to go." You said more sternly. Din didn't move. "Go!" you shouted, and Grogu flinched slightly.

"No." Din insisted.

The tears were spilling from your eyes now, and there was nothing you could do to stop them. You shuffled backwards until your ankles hit the first step of the grand staircase. You sunk down onto the steps and held your head in your hands, sobbing. You missed your mother so much; it was like every bone in your body ached for her touch. You missed the way she'd comfort you and hold you and whisper the Songs of Eon's Past to lull you to sleep. She was the greatest of leaders— a pacifist who would never hurt a single soul. She renounced all wars, even at the cost of her own life. She wouldn't want you to hurt Din. All these years you told yourself you'd kill the Children of the Watch for vengeance. But how could you now?

Hesitantly, Din placed Grogu on the ground, and padded towards you. He sat down next to you and wrapped a big arm around your body, pulling you into his beskar clad chest and hugging you. It was the first time in over a decade you'd had the pleasure of feeling human touch. You sunk into him and whimpered, letting your tears fall and dampen the black material under his chest plate. Din said nothing, only shushed you and rubbed comforting circles into your back.

He had no idea what caused the onset of your tears, but he knew better than to ask. There was no shame in crying. None at all. All Din knew was that he was not going to leave you. Not now, not ever. He was going to make you his wife.

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[wlntrsldler]

okay hear me out the cardigan, betty, august love triagle to reader x fred x angelina i've been thinking about it since folklore came

PROMPT: based on cardigan, betty, and august by taylor swift (an installment of my taylor swift x harry potter series. to read more about it, click here) Y/N and Fred see each other after 7 years and she finally lets him know that she knew that he cheated on her with Angelina all those years ago. (fred lives au lol)

also my submission for @wand3ringr0s3‘s 1.9k follower writing challenge! 

“i knew it was too good to be true.” 

“was in love with you. was.”

WC: 1.5K+

WARNINGS: infidelity, angst

HARRY POTTER MASTERLIST

-

cardigan x betty x august (f.w one shot)

“Why did you leave?” 

You froze in your spot when you heard those words come out of Fred’s lips. The party behind the two of you was still in full swing— a party where his sister and her groom were celebrating their undying love for one another; Unbeknownst to them, just a few feet away, was the dying breath of another love. 

You turned to face the man you’d fallen in love with all those years ago. You thought about the years you’ve wasted pining after Fred Weasley, dreaming of him like he was the one who put the stars in the sky. He was your safety blanket, one to cover you with a sense of comfort and belonging in a way that nobody was ever able to. He clouded your judgement until you didn’t know right from wrong anymore, and yet, not once did he take advantage of his hold on you— because he’s a good man. 

And you hated it. 

You hated how even though he was the same man who made you doubt in the power of love; even though he was the man who haunted you in your darkest hours; even though he was the man who laid beside a woman who wasn’t you, tangled in the white sheets while he was supposed to be devoted to you; you still knew he was a good man. 

“You don’t get to ask me questions,” you breathed out, shutting your eyes tightly. You couldn’t look him in the eye, not while his eyes are flaming with anger and suffering. 

“The hell I don’t!” he exclaimed, stomping over to you. His tone was harsh, but even that couldn’t mask the quivering of his words. “Why did you leave me?” 

You finally opened your eyes, after feeling his breath tickling your skin, “You left me first, Fred.” 

His eyebrows furrowed, genuine confusion evident in his features. Fred gulped, blinking a few times, not expecting that answer, “What are you on about?” 

“Angelina Johnson.” 

And just like that, Fred felt his knees grow weak. 

His face paled, all color draining from his once red cheeks. He knows exactly what you were talking about. But he wished he didn’t. 

“Y/N,” he began, his voice turning into a broken whisper, “I-I can explain.” 

“No need,” you dismissed, staring at your feet. You kicked around the grass, sending small pebbles to ripple across the garden. “It’s been years, Fred. It doesn’t matter anymore.” 

“Obviously, it does,” he insisted, stepping closer to you. He couldn’t help but shed a tear when you took a step back. 

You shyly looked at your fingers, unable to look at him in the eyes once more. It has been seven years since you found him sleeping soundly beside Angelina Johnson, right before the war. You confessed your feelings for him a few hours before that night, even going so far as kissing him under the moonlight before you went off to fight in the battle of Hogwarts the next day. You didn’t speak to him the entire time and you left without another word once the war was over. 

“Can we talk about this?” 

“No, Fred,” you hissed, not even bothering to wipe the tears that were falling from your eyes, “Do you know how many times I’ve cried while we were still at Hogwarts because people would whisper about how bloody pathetic I am for being madly in love with you? You daft git! I would’ve done anything for you, Fred. Everyone but you could see that.” 

You grimaced as you continued, “Do you know how it feels to confess your love for someone and then finding them in bed with another woman not even a day later? Do you know how it feels to lose your best friend and the one you love all in a blink of an eye?” 

“Y/N, listen-”

“No, you listen,” you exhaled. In that small moment of silence, you faintly heard the crowd chanting, “Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!” and you felt so guilty having this conversation during two of your closest friends’ magical night. You looked at Fred, “I was so happy that night, you know? We’ve been best friends for ages before that and you always told me that I was deserving of love. I never believed you until that night because Merlin, if I’m deserving of Fred Weasley then maybe I am deserving of love.” 

“You are,” he squeaked, trembling like your words were daggers stabbing him. 

You ignored him, “I felt so stupid after seeing you with Angelina because then I knew it was too good to be true. I couldn’t even bring myself to confront you about it.” 

“I-” you chuckled humorlessly, throat beginning to close up, “I wanted you, Fred. A-and obviously, you belonged to someone else and I just… I couldn’t be there anymore. I couldn’t be here anymore! How I managed to still be friends with Ginny or visit Charlie in Romania when I was there for work— knowing full well that I saw you every time I looked at them— without bursting into tears, I don’t know! But I left for me, Fred. I needed to put myself back together again.” 

“Y/N, if I had known you’re in love with me-”

“Was in love with you,” you corrected, although you didn’t know if what you were saying was the truth, “Was.” 

He flinched but continued, “-was in love with me, then I wouldn’t hav-”

“Wouldn’t have fucked her?” 

Fred faltered, your words twisting the knife that was already buried in his chest. He nodded sadly, “Yeah.” 

“Fred, you would’ve done it anyway.” 

“No, I wouldn’t!” he pleaded, rushing over to you. “I wouldn’t because I was in love with you! I’m still in love with you! Had I known you weren’t just saying that because we were going into war, I swear Y/N things would’ve been so different.” 

“Please save it,” you placed a hand on his chest, keeping him at arms distance. 

He grabbed your hand, bringing it to his lips as he peppered kisses to your knuckles. His tears touched your skin, the warmth of it making you shudder. You pulled your hand that he held closer to you, wanting to feel him near you, even just for a moment. You watched in despair as he murmured apologies into your skin. 

His eyes were closed, eyelashes touching the scar on the crease of your index finger. Fred looked at you through blurred vision, eyes red from crying and pleading. You couldn’t hear anything else but his sobs, the sounds from the wedding long forgotten. Fred whispered, not knowing if you were even listening to him anymore.

Please. Please. Please.

You stared at the boy in front of you in all his glory, vulnerable for you. Subconsciously you stroked his cheekbone with the pad of your thumb, humming as he nudged his face into your touch. Fred’s bottom lip quivered, twisting his head to kiss your palm. He whispered again.

Please. Please. Please.

“Freddie,” you finally spoke. You felt his lips twitch to a smile at the way his nickname still sounded so smooth rolling off your tongue, so sweet like honey. 

“Hm?” 

“I want to forgive you.”

“So please forgive me,” he said so softly you almost didn’t catch it.

You pulled your hand away, holding it close to your chest. You stared at each other, taking in each other’s presence for the first time in seven years. He looked more mature. The years you’ve spent apart were kind to him. He looked more handsome than ever. 

You stared at the scar on his eyebrow— the one that he got when he tried to teach you how to fly in your third year. You stared at his eyes— the same ones you used to dream about waking up next to in the morning. You stared at his lips— the ones that you had the pleasure to feel on yours on that forsaken night. 

“I want to forgive you,” you echoed, allowing yourself to bask in his presence one last time, “But I can’t, Fred.” 

Silence. 

“You-” you paused, collecting yourself before continuing. You looked up at the sky briefly, letting out a shaky breath, “You broke me. I have spent years trying to fix myself. All those years apart, all I’ve done is try to forget you but you’re everywhere, Fred. You’re the person in my dreams and in my nightmares all together. Everything reminds me of you.” 

“And I’d be lying to myself if I said I don’t love you because I do,” you confessed, now looking at him intently, “I fear that I’ll always love you. I fear that I’ll always be tied to you. I fear that you’re probably the love of my life and I hate the part of me that still hopes that you are.” 

“Because if love is supposed to feel like this— if love is supposed to hurt like this— then I’d rather not love anyone for the rest of my life,” you began to quiet down, wiping the tears on your cheeks. You started to walk back to the party, deciding that you’ve missed too much of the night already, “It was good to see you, Freddie.”

Fred watched as you retreated back to the party, a fake smile plastered on your face. He stood there in the dark, crying silently and blaming himself for the mistake he made seven years ago, as he watched the love of his life give up on him.

-

tags: @rexorangecouny

[jkstompers]

don’t go | jjk

pairing: jeon jungkook x female reader

summary: you and jungkook were simply roommates, nothing more than that. no matter how much you wanted to get to know him, jungkook always left before you were able to get any deeper than two weeks into his past. 

word count: 3.3K 

genre: roommates, established friendship, hidden feelings, angst, slight fluff

warnings: none! :) (except maybe some typos...ignore that...haha...)

author’s note: yes hi hello! i’m so sorry i haven’t posted in so long AND I WAS SUPPOSED TO POST THIS FIC THE DAY AFTER VALENTINES UGH!! I’M SLACKING, I’M SORRY!! i’ve been writing but i don’t have the motivation to finish and ugh it’s a mess in my brain right now. this fic i was able to finish though! hopefully u enjoy it ♡(ŐωŐ人) please let me know what u think! sorry again for being so inactive T口T. 

side note: this is how i imagined jungkook in this fic! his pink sweater and long hair (╯°▽°)╯ ┻━┻ .crying. 

also banner picture cred: here <3

“welcome home roomie! how was your month long vacation from me this time?” you greet jungkook when he walks into the kitchen for breakfast. he just came back last night from one of his month long rendezvous that occur way too often in your opinion. jungkook would disappear and reappear every other week or so. he never told you where he went and you never really found yourself dedicated enough to find out. 

“fun,” he answers flatly, “and to be specific, it was only two weeks.” he clarifies the time he spent away, sitting down at the island and surveying the food you laid out. you outdid yourself this morning, an array of different breakfast foods. “you made all of this?” 

you nod, “they were about to go bad, so you better finish all of it.” 

he sends you a half smile, teetering on a smirk as he takes the plate you hand him. “you doing anything today?” he asks. his fork stabs through two pancakes and moves them to his plate, shoveling bacon and eggs onto there as well. 

“on this fine sunday? sadly, no, just some homework i need to finish.” you sigh, taking a sip from your glass of water. your seat is to the right of jungkook, at the head of the island. it’s now that you really take your time to look at him. his morning look in all it’s glory. a face swollen and hair messy in the cutest way. it wasn’t fair that he was attractive during times when you’re supposed to look unattractive. his hair has grown a little longer since you last saw him, the ends of his hair touching the apples of his cheeks now. speaking of his cheeks, he stuffs them full of food and chews, his eyes wandering around the apartment until he makes contact with yours. catching you staring. 

he swallows, bringing his glass of water to his lips before speaking again, “my face that interesting to you?” the question comes with a piece of pancake on his fork, offering it to you.  

like a reflex, you open your mouth to accept the pancake. but you scrunch your nose at the remark he made, “you look different.” 

the statement is meant to be innocent, speaking of the way his hair is a little longer and how you notice a new tattoo gracing his arm. but jungkook seems to take it a little deeper, your words ringing in his head. different? does that mean you look at him different? is he prettier now? uglier? what do you mean by that? 

“do you want to go grocery shopping later?” he asks. hoping you didn’t notice the long pause he took to overthink. 

“sure,” you shrugged. a small bubble of excitement forming in your stomach. “we’re out of ice cream anyway.” you try to carry a nonchalant reaction when nods. 

when the two of you finished filling your bellies, jungkook helped you wash the dishes and clean everything up. the feeling of having him around makes you feel at ease. you wish it was like this more often. for the past two years jungkook had been your roommate, he paid his dues, cleaned his messes, and kept you company from time to time. when he wasn’t there (which was ⅔ of the time) it didn’t feel right. it would feel colder in the apartment, even if the heater was turned up. just...empty. sometimes you wished his socks or hoodies were left lying around the apartment for you to pick up and bicker with him about. rather, he cleaned every spot, no laundry to pick up, no spills to wipe, nothing. leaving no signs that he lived here at all. 

“nap for a little bit and then we’ll go?” jungkook asks, snapping you out of your thoughts. you nod, telling him to wake you up when it was time to go. 

you felt a warm hand on your shoulder, gently shaking you awake. your eyes open to see jungkook in front of you, pink sweater and black hair, contrasting perfectly in the sun that’s shining through your window. “let’s go now,” he says. 

you nod, getting up from your bed and stretching as you walk over to your closet, grabbing a sweater to wear. jungkook offers to drive, you sit in the passenger seat, mind focused on what you had to buy for the house. you make it to the store and grab a cart, jungkook following behind you, “do you need anything?” you ask. 

“some shampoo and conditioner,” he answers. you nod, moving to the bath section and waiting as jungkook chooses his items. the rest of the trip consists of you and jungkook asking each other if you needed said thing for the apartment. “we have to get more blankets,” he declares as you pass the home goods section, grabbing a fluffy blanket.

you scold him, “we have too many blankets, put it back.” he presses his lips into a tight line, showing his dissatisfaction. you both continue to walk around a little longer, moving to the food section. “see, this is what we need!” you pull out the cookie dough tub. 

“dough?” he snorts, taking a look at the bucket as you hold it. 

“it’s ready to eat cookie dough! no salmonella for us!” you smile, dropping it into your cart. jungkook doesn’t say anything after that, you knew he wanted the cookie dough too, you were just taking one for the team. 

walking a little further into the food section, jungkook taps your shoulder, pointing to the other side of the freezers. “ice cream?” 

“oh, yeah,” you nod, pushing the cart that way. you pull the vanilla ice cream out and place it in the cart, jungkook furrows his eyebrows. 

“vanilla? out of all the flavors here? really?” he stares at you, a serious look on his face. you can’t help but start laughing, his face breaks, a small smile appearing on his face but he tries to get back to a serious expression. 

“it’s good! and you can eat it with the cookie dough,” you reason. jungkook rolls his eyes, you always seem to find a way to stump him, he can never argue with you for too long, you’re just too good of a talker. he takes out a mint chocolate tub from the freezer. you don’t say anything but your face scrunches, visibly disapproving.

“don’t start, i will argue for mint chocolate until the store closes.” he warns. you decide to stay quiet, a smile cemented on your face as you make it to check out. the rest of the trip goes smoothly from there, picking up some food on the way home and then making it back to the apartment. 

the two of you decide to do some things on your own when you got home. jungkook had to clean his room and do some laundry while you had to finish your homework. a period of comfortable silence fills the apartment, unlike the cold silence that you were terribly used to. you couldn’t have felt any more content than how you feel now. 

a few hours pass before jungkook finishes his chores, you were finished with your work and were now scheduling your next week. he peeks his head into your room, coughing to get your attention. your head turns at the sound, “movie?” he suggests. 

you smile, standing from your desk. the two of you travel to the couch and plop down on the seats, your hand reaching out to the coffee table for the remote. “which one?” you ask, turning the tv on and clicking random buttons that bring you to netflix. 

“that blue one, with the blonde.” he points as you scroll through the selections. 

“mamma mia?” you snort. 

“looks interesting,” he shrugs. unfolding the blanket and splaying it over the both of you. the first fifteen minutes of the movie plays before both you and jungkook start getting hungry. a rock, paper, scissors game ensues to figure out who’s gonna get up to get the snacks. you lose, 2 to 1. 

you grumble, pulling the warm blanket off of you and moving to the kitchen. taking a bag of chips out, some candy that you had in the pantry, and then the tub of ready to eat cookie dough out of the fridge. the weight of it proving you to be one of the weakest human beings. the tub practically slams onto the counter. the lid once again proving that your strength was not that of thor’s. “jungkook!” you shout from the kitchen. 

“what?” he yells back. 

you try once more to pry the lid open, but to no avail. so you shout once again, “help me open the cookie dough!” 

you hear jungkook groan, but nevertheless he comes into the kitchen, his face silently asking what you need him to do. you show him that the lid is basically stuck and he takes it from you, trying to take the top off but he seems to struggle as well. “here, you hold and i pull,” he suggests, holding onto the lid as you hold onto the bucket part. something told you this wasn’t going to work, maybe you should have left it out to thaw first before you tried to open it. 

if someone were to walk in, the two of you would look ridiculous, but the cookie dough gives after a minute or so of pulling. the effort makes both you and jungkook stumble onto the kitchen floor. both of your laughs overlapping each other. you hold the cookie dough, “let’s stay here first, i’m tired.” your breathing is exaggerated to add effect. 

he grins, moving to grab two spoons before sitting down next to you, against the cabinets on the floor. he sticks the two spoons into the cookie dough, the two of you start digging in. “you know what would be perfect with this right now?” jungkook sits up, standing again and moving to the freezer. you raise an eyebrow, wondering what he’s got in mind. “your vanilla ice cream,” he pulls the tub out. 

“and to think you were making fun of me in the store for it,” you narrow your eyes, taking the ice cream from him. jungkook stands above you, smiling at the way you remain on the ground instead of going back to the couch in the living room. nevertheless, he joins you with his spoon in hand. 

he watches as you scoop from the container, over exaggerating a shiver when you put it in your mouth. “cold?” he asks, but you shake your head. he looks over to your arm, your goosebumps raising. “liar,” he snorts, taking off his hoodie and handing it to you. 

you give him a puzzled look, “i can just get my own—” 

“just take it,” he cuts you off, throwing the jacket into your arms. secretly, you smile to yourself, throwing the hoodie over your head and sliding it on. it smells just like him, an overbearing scent that you’ve found comforting these days. a sudden warmth rushes over you. 

the sound of the tv is in the background of your conversation, but you only pay attention to jungkook, the man who’s digging into your vanilla ice cream and feeding it to you. “you like feeding your roommates or something?” you mumble as you eat the cold cream. 

he shakes his head, a smile on his face. “you’re the first roommate i’ve had.” 

you raise your eyebrows, “like ever?” he nods. “makes sense, you don’t know proper roommate etiquette, because you’re never here,” you snort. it was a joke, but it was true. you were projecting your upset through the statement. he is never here, and you just wanted to know why. did he not like being around you? is he just using this place to shower and store his things? was that it? 

jungkook doesn’t reply to your remark. completely disregarding it when he speaks again, “yeah, i’ve lived on my own before i moved in here, i moved around a lot.” 

“why?” you ask. jungkook never answered ‘why’ questions. always said that it was never your business, that you were always so nosy. 

but this time he sighs, “not really sure.” his spoon stabbing into the cookie dough, scraping the sides for the softer dough. “never really had a reason to stay.” 

that was the most you’ve ever heard from him. no matter how much you wanted to ask why he stayed here, why he stayed with you. you knew that maybe it was pushing a little too far. one question at a time, baby steps, you tell yourself. 

but you couldn’t help but think— wish that you could be a reason to make him stay. 

“must be tiring,” you comment, taking a scoop of dough for yourself. he doesn’t reply after that, instead just smearing some of the dough on your cheek and nose. a gasp leaves your throat, wiping the stickiness from your face and transferring it to his. “you’re gonna give me acne,” you groan. 

“oh relax, i’ll help you wash it off.” he smiles as he stands up, holding his hand out for you to take. he sets the ice cream on the counter, you copy with the cookie dough. both of you travelling to the sink to wash your hands and your faces. jungkook dries his face off and stands by, watching as you splash water on your face. you miss a spot on your cheek, which he helps you wipe off. his thumb coming up and swiping against the dough. his hand is warm, if it were there any longer, you would have leaned into his touch. 

after you both dried your faces off, you both agreed that you’ve consumed enough cookie dough and ice cream for the night. after returning them to the fridge, you make your way back to the couch. the movie almost over, nearing the ending scenes when you sit down. jungkook chooses another movie, legally blonde. “lots of blonde today, thinking of bleaching your hair?” you joke, throwing a blanket on the both of you. 

“you read my mind.” he gasps sarcastically. 

another comfortable silence falls in between you both, the sound of elle woods speaking replaces your conversation with each other. you turn and watch as jungkook’s focus remains solely on the tv. you lean back into the couch, smiling to yourself. there was a bittersweet feeling to this moment. you were happy that jungkook was here, but something felt off. you felt yourself getting lonely. you feel this way every time jungkook is about to leave, it’s like you have a warning signal. like that one time last year where jungkook left for two months, december and january, the two most festive months of the year. you were out buying christmas decorations when you felt something inside of you grow cold. it’s when you got in your car that you saw his text. 

[7:58 pm] jungkook: *jeon jungkook has sent you $1,000* 

[7:58 pm] jungkook: ^^ for rent

[8:21 pm] you: leaving again? 

[8:23 pm] jungkook: yeah

[8:24 pm] you: when r u coming back 

[8:24 pm] you: i just bought christmas decor :( 

[8:25 pm] jungkook: :( sorry 

[8:26 pm] jungkook: also not sure

[8:26 pm] jungkook: i’ll be back to see them though! promise. i’ll help you take them down too 

with that, you went home and decorated the apartment with a christmas tree, a snowman, and stockings with yours and jungkook’s initials hanging below the tv on the wall. waiting patiently all december and the first two weeks of january to see if jungkook would ever come back to see how cute you made the apartment. 

he never did. 

rather, he came back the end of january, when all the festivities were done and the decorations were down. 

“where are the decorations?” he asks, shrugging off his jacket and walking into the kitchen. 

you rolled your eyes, picking up your mug of hot tea. “took them down myself, didn’t think you were coming back.” after that you moved into your room, watching tv and sulking to yourself. sure, you were upset but you shouldn’t have expected anything more from him. it’s become one of the only personality traits that you see in him: ghosting you and coming back like nothing happened. plus, it’s not like he owed you an explanation. you and jungkook were simply roommates, nothing more than that. no matter how much you wanted to get to know him, jungkook always left before you were able to get any deeper than two weeks into his past. 

you close your eyes and shake off the memory. breaking the silence when you speak, “you’re leaving soon, aren’t you?” 

his gaze moves away from the tv. his eyes meeting yours, “why do you say that?” 

you break eye contact before you shrug, “i can always feel it.” 

he doesn’t say anything after, letting you wallow in the feeling washing over you once again. jungkook was leaving again and he knew you knew. there was nothing he could say, because what did you want to hear? that he’ll stay? maybe it was because it’s only been a day, and he’s already leaving. the whole thing makes your head ache. the both of you continue to watch the movie until the end, the clock striking four in the morning. jungkook turns the tv off when you yawn. 

“tired?” he asks. you nod, standing from the couch and turning off the lights. he follows suit, stretching and trailing you down the hall. you walk into your room and lay on your bed, jungkook stays at your door, turning your light off before softly saying, “goodnight.” and then closing your door. 

sometime in the morning, around seven or eight, you feel your bed dip beside you. it’s jungkook, you can tell by the smell of his body wash. a strong fruit smell that always feels like it burns your nose. you’re barely awake, your head still lightly aching. your droopy eyelids beckon you to sleep. jungkook doesn’t say anything, instead just sitting there. 

in his head he’s saying something, apologizing to you for all the times he left you alone in this big apartment. you must have felt so alone, probably scared too. he’s too much of a coward to say it out loud. so for now, in his head, he repeats the apologies over and over again. 

“sweet dreams,” jungkook says. rising from your bed. you can feel it, the comforting weight next to you as you fall back asleep disappears. 

you blame your drowsiness for the way you reach out for his arm, gently holding his hand. he stutters in his step, looking back to you and your connected hands. “don’t go,” you mumble, eyes still closed. 

and for once. jungkook hesitates. for a split second, he wonders how it’ll feel to stay with you. 

but he doesn’t know. and he’ll never know. because in the next minute, he’s slipping his hand away from yours and grabbing his bag. walking out the door. again. 

in the morning you wake to an empty apartment. jungkook’s door is closed and it’s just you again. your feet pad against the cold floor into the kitchen, a paper on the island catching your attention. 

jungkook’s handwriting is specific, you could tell the marks apart from someone else’s. a smile spreads across your face when you read the note. terribly, your heart pounds and your cheeks flush. 

be back in two weeks. 

was supposed to be gone the entire month, but i wanted to stop by and see you. 

sorry i only stayed for a day. 

didn’t say it yesterday, but happy valentine’s day. there’s something in the fridge for you. 

take care. 

Xx, J. 

[kuroopaisen]

cause & effect || chapter 7

➵ your work friend, kuroo, has a tiny favour to ask. unfortunately, that favour includes convincing his family that you’re very much in love with him and have been for a while now. let’s just say it’s easier than you’d assumed.

warnings: f!reader, mentions of divorce

wc: 5.7k

m.list | ch. 6 ↞ ch. 7 ↠ ch. 8

It’s frustratingly cold as you step out onto the street in the late afternoon, scarf pulled up around your cheeks and gloved hands stuffed in your coat pockets. Sure, it’s a bit stuffy inside a jumper, a jacket, and an outercoat, but it’s what you’ve got to do. It’s the sort of afternoon that you want to spend inside, curled up next to your heater as you throw on a shitty Christmas film. Instead, you’re going to brave the minefield that is your boyfriend’s mother.

Well, not your real boyfriend. But his mother doesn’t know that – and she’s certainly unlikely to be any less critical of you regardless. You’re not sure the whole ‘deceit’ aspect makes it any less stressful. If anything, you feel more pressure to play your part well; for his sake more than anything else.

The reason for this mess is waiting for you, leaning against the nose of his car, dressed in a surprisingly stylish black coat and red scarf. He looks so nonchalant, gazing down the street with the same expression he has when trying to figure out the most appropriate sign-off to a work email.

“Morning,” you yawn, shuffling towards him.

Kuroo grins at you, his nose and cheeks bitten red by the cold.

For how tall and intimidating he looks, he’s got a nice smile.

“You sure you can breathe in all that?” He teases, appraising your winter gear with a playful glint in his eye.

You glare at him, shuffling towards him in all your layered glory.

“Don’t tell me you’re one of those men who likes to brag about how he never gets cold,” you huff, tapping his foot with your own. He doesn’t seem the type to have such a lack of self-awareness, but it’s not impossible that he’d just say something like that to wind you up.

“Nah,” he grins. “I just go for fashion over comfort.”

“You’re doing a terrible job then,” you giggle. Of all the words that come to mind when you think ‘Kuroo Tetsurou’, fashionable is not one of them.

Kuroo places an aghast hand on his chest, the look in his eyes not quite matching up with his slack jaw. “And here I thought we were friends.”

“Aren’t friends supposed to be honest with each other?” You tilt your head to the side with a sparkle in your eyes.

The nervousness bubbling in your stomach is already subsiding. It’s a silly little thing, a bit of meaningless banter on a winter’s morning, but you feel better. Embarrassing, really.

“You wound me,” he chuckles, shaking his head. He stands to his full height, rolling his shoulders. “You ready?”

You nod. “Ready as I’ll ever be.”

Recognition flashes in Kuroo’s eyes, his expression morphing from relaxed to mildly perturbed. “Thanks for doing this, by the way.”

You wave a hand at him before promptly stuffing it back in your pocket. “No problem. Also, I get a free dinner out of it.”

Kuroo raises an eyebrow at you, but his expression softens slightly. Although, you’re not sure it’s enough to ease the guilt he must be feeling.

(“Are you sure?” Kuroo asks, his brow furrowed as he leans across your work cubicle. His voice is quiet, hushed, as though he doesn’t want anyone else to hear. “You really don’t have to come if you don’t want to.”

“You sound like a broken record,” you laugh. It’s true; as surely as the sun rises and sets, Kuroo asks if you’re sure you really want to do this at approximately one in the afternoon. Sometimes at two. “It’s fine,” you smile. “I offered, didn’t I?”)

“Well…” He sighs, turning around and opening the car door. “Ladies first.”

You nod as you slip into the passenger seat. The stale heated air burns the inside of your nose; a sensation you firmly associate with the winter.

Kuroo is quick to join you on the other side, legs a little too long to fit comfortably despite his seat being pushed back quite far. You smile to yourself; he really is a strange mix of all the confidence and debonair of a successful businessman and all the awkwardness of an overgrown child.

The more you think about it, the more it makes sense that he’d be the one to ask this of you. But it’s on your own volition that you sit in his car, about to head off to see his mother.

Maybe this is going overboard. But something about his face while he was on the phone to his mother still bothers you. The panic, the exhaustion, the fear – he’s never acted like that with his dad’s side of the family. Something’s obviously up.

But you’re not sure how to casually mention that in conversation. ‘Oh, hey, I noticed things were kind of tense when you were on the phone to your mother, do you want to talk about it?’ It’s not even your place to pry.

At the very least, you want to support a friend ‘in need’. That feels reasonable enough.

✧ ✧ ✧

The drive is painfully silent.

You try your best to make light conversation, but it’s hard. Kuroo’s too deep in his own head to have a proper discussion. The joviality he’d greeted you with this morning quickly dissipated, replaced by an unusually sombre expression.

He’s never usually this quiet. There’s usually a quip, or perhaps a small observation he’d like to share. Seeing him this quiet, this withdrawn… it’s unusual. Well, for you, at least. Perhaps the Kuroo you knew was just a front, a mask securely fixed on to make workplace relationships run smoothly.

But… you’d like to think you know him better than that by now.

Forty minutes feel like eighty. But thank God it’s over.

He doesn’t even need to announce that you’ve arrived. The palpable air of dread that fills the car is indication enough.

That, and the fact that you’re currently parked in front of what appears to be a very standard house of the upper middle class. It looks rather fancy, with perfectly tended-to hedges and white walls. It almost looks like a show home, albeit a lot smaller.

“You ready?” Kuroo sighs, turning to you with tired eyes.

You nod. “I’m ready to charm the pants off your mum.”

You regret the words before they’ve even left your mouth.

Kuroo snorts. “Really? That’s the turn of phrase you’re going with?”

“I could run off and live a long, loving life with your mother,” you shrug. “You never know, ‘Tetsu’.”

He shakes his head with a smile. “Now that’d be a plot twist.”

“Mhm,” you nod.

Something in your gut wants to linger in the car, to put this off as long as possible. You don’t know what to expect; his father’s side of the family had been a breeze, perhaps even more kind and welcoming than you deserve. But something told you that won’t be the case with his mother.

Kuroo doesn’t knock on the door, nor does he shoot his mother a message. He fishes around in the mailbox and pulls out a pair of keys, reluctantly opening the front door.

You’re dumbstruck by how pristine everything is. It looks as if it’s been cleaned recently; probably in anticipation of your arrival. But you can’t comprehend this place ever being anything less than perfect, though. You can’t envision disorder here, neither in the little hallway or the charming little living room.

There’s something distinctly different about this house. It’s a little cleaner, a little more put together. Where Kuroo’s paternal household seems to revel in its rambunctious sincerity, this one seems more concerned with order.

Everything is where it should be; the design opts for minimalism over sentimentality.

There are still photos on the wall – a gangly, teenaged Kuroo smiling blithely next to a girl who looks a lot like him, a baby you don’t recognise, a group of people you’ve never seen before staring at you with tight smiles…

“We’re here,” Kuroo calls out.

“Yes, dear, I heard the door,” a woman’s voice calls back. Your stomach is tight, wound up like a pocket watch. “Come to the kitchen, would you?”

Kuroo glances at you before complying, shuffling towards the kitchen with the same reluctance as a petulant twelve-year-old boy. You follow, tottering after him as quickly as possible.

The kitchen is just as orderly as the rest of the house; a miracle, given the fact that Kuroo’s mother appears to be making curry.

She’s as tall as you expected her to be. She doesn’t share her son’s penchant for messy hair; instead, she looks like the sort of woman who’d be composed no matter what. She does share her son’s strong jaw and sharp eyes, and it seems like she’d look just as good in a suit.

Suffice to say, you’re even more intimidated.  

“Dinner’s ready, Tetsurou,” she sighs, hand on her hip and ladle in hand.

“We just got here,” he blinks, gormless.

“That’s why I told you to arrive at six,” she says.

You and Kuroo exchange a look.

“Thank you for being so prepared,” you say reflexively.

His mother offers you a smile in response. It doesn’t seem insincere, at least.

“Is Akari coming?” Kuroo asks.

You know that name – his sister. She must be the girl in the photos.

“She couldn’t make it,” Kuroo’s mother replies nonchalantly.

You watch Kuroo’s face as it flickers almost imperceptibly with understanding. There’s something like relief in his eyes – but also something like annoyance. Perhaps both.    

“And Haruki?”

There’s something to the way Kuroo says that name that sets you on edge.

“He’s working late,” his mother replies with a moment’s delay. Maybe she just took some time to process the question – but there’s enough dead air for you to be suspicious.

That’s when you remember.

(“So, your mum’s remarried?” You ask, tilting your head at him.

Kuroo grimaces on the other side of the table. “Yeah. To a lawyer.”

You chuckle, taking another sip of your lunchtime boba. “I take it that’s a bad thing?”

Kuroo bristles. “Well, he just… I just… we never got along, you know?”

“Ah,” you swallow. Incompatibility with a parent’s new partner is its own minefield, fraught with hurt feelings and expectations. “So, your mum remarried, and you stayed with your dad?”

“Mhm,” he nods. “Mum took Akari.”

“That’s your sister, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Do you talk to her often?” Your gut shifts. Siblings ‘separated’ in a divorce. Fraught allegiances, maybe?

“Yeah,” he takes a sip of his own drink. “I saw her last week.”)

Haruki must be the stepfather.

“I see,” Kuroo murmurs. This time, the look in his eyes is definitely relief.

“Go sit yourselves down,” his mother says, waving a hand at you two. “I’ll bring it out in a second.”

Kuroo obliges quickly, making a beeline for the dining table. You follow in suit, terrified of the prospect of being left alone in the kitchen with his mother. Kuroo pulls out a chair for you and you slide into it, folding your hands in your lap.

Well, the energy here is certainly… different.

Next to you, Kuroo sits with a clenched jaw. The only other time you’ve seen him like this is when dealing with particularly obnoxious sponsors; the ones that’d make even the most calm and patient of your colleagues want to tear their hair out.

But he shouldn’t have to feel like this, should he? It’s his mother’s house. Somewhere that’s supposed to be a home for him. And yet he looks so… so…

You nudge him with your elbow. He turns to you with a start, eyes wide. A smile is all you can offer him, as optimistic and genuine as you can muster.

His eyes soften ever so slightly; and, if you’re not imagining it, you swear you can see the whisper of a smile beginning to form on his own lips.

“Here you go,” his mother chirps, appearing so suddenly you’re not entirely convinced she didn’t just materialise out of smoke.

She sets a plate of curry down in front of you.

It looks gorgeous. Robust, richly coloured, with rice that looks like it’s the perfect consistency… it’s the sort of curry you’d expect to see on an advertisement, or maybe on a delivery app (where the image draws you in, only to leave you deeply disappointed when the real curry shows up looking significantly less appetising).

“Thank you,” you smile at her. Funny that your mood’s suddenly picked up, hm?

“You are most welcome,” his mother chuckles, sitting herself down in her own seat across from the two of you.

The three of you say your thanks before picking up your spoons. If there’s anything you can all agree on, it’s the fact that you want to dig into this curry immediately.

“Have you spoken to your sister recently?” Kuroo’s mother asks, scooping up some rice.

“Uh, yeah,” Kuroo nods, swallowing roughly. “I called her yesterday.”

“Did you tell her about your new girlfriend?”

“Not yet,” he mumbles, cheeks starting to glow.

“Afraid she’ll tease you?”

Kuroo genuinely chuckles at that. “You really think me such a coward?”

“You say that like I’m not also deathly afraid of your sister,” his mother smiles, “she could verbally tear me apart without even breaking a sweat.”

Kuroo’s chuckle becomes a genuine laugh. The sound brings you more relief than you could’ve ever imagined.

Even his mother seems to soften a bit.

She finally looks straight at you, a gentle smile on her face. “I hope it’s to your liking, dear,” she hums.

“Thank you,” you smile back, taking a spoonful of curry. It’s so good – warm and rich, with the sort of texture and flavour you’d expect from a comfort meal. You wonder if her penchant for cooking has passed down to her son.  

“I take it’s a success, then?” Kuroo’s mother smiles wryly, tilting her head at you. You blink at her with wide eyes and round cheeks. Had you… done something?

“Don’t tease her,” Kuroo chuckles.

“I’m not teasing,” his mother tuts. “I just pay particular attention when someone’s trying my cooking for the first time.”

A surprisingly comfortable silence settles over the table as everyone tucks into their dinner, taking a moment to enjoy this dish that tastes like a warm hug.

Kuroo’s mother is the picture of smug satisfaction, revelling in the implicit praise of a silent dinner table. Although, you can’t blame her; if you could make a curry this good, you’d surely be acting the same way.

You’re grateful for the silence. Silence means you don’t need to be quick on your feet, trying to weave a realistic story. This woman seems perceptive; more perceptive than you’d like. Where his dad’s side of the family seem to place trust that Kuroo’s telling them the truth, it feels as though his mother would be able to unravel this little pantomime in an instant.

“So how long have you two been together now?” She coos, looking between the two of you with a sly smile.

You look to Kuroo, trying your best to suppress the panic in your eyes. You hadn’t actually asked what the answer to that question would be. Foolish, really.

“It’ll be, uh…” Kuroo clears his throat, raising an eyebrow. “A few months now?”

You nod along, taking another mouthful of curry. Curse the swirling in your gut – this meal deserves to be enjoyed wholly, not forced down during a bout of anxiety.

“And you were working together before this?” She asks.

“Mhm.”

You reach over and take Kuroo’s hand on instinct. Your grip is firm, tense. Kuroo squeezes your hand back. The amount of comfort it gives you is shameful; this isn’t real. He’s just a friend. A colleague.  

“Ah,” Kuroo’s mother smiles. “So, it really is a workplace romance.”

The way she says it implies that the fact amuses her. Why? Had she not expected that for her son? Did she look down on a workplace romance? Perhaps some people might find it unprofessional, but… it’s not real. Not that you’d tell her that.

She asks a few more questions; where you’re from, what you like to do, what you studied in university.

You answer as truthfully as you can. The less lies you have to keep track of, the better. And, you hope, it might add some credence to your story – even if part of you worries that his mother might disapprove of you.

Not that it matters. You’ve had more than enough of this ‘method acting’.

The questions slow, although you’re not sure Kuroo’s mother is satiated. There’s a certain glint in her eye as she looks between the two of you.

“So,” she asks, her voice like cream, “when am I getting grandchildren?”

Your face flushes hot. The question isn’t being directed at you – well, not really – but the thought is enough to send you into a mental frenzy. Children? But you’re so young, and they’re a big commitment. There’s so much to think about – schooling, mental wellbeing, financial support—

“Be patient, mother,” Kuroo shakes his head, letting the question roll off his shoulders.

He must get asked this a lot, you think.  

“You’re getting on in years, Tetsurou,” his mother purrs.

You resist the urge to frown. If Tetsurou was past his prime, then does that make you an old crone?

“I’m only twenty-four,” Kuroo mumbles. No matter how frequent a question like this, it’s always annoying.

“And?” His mother raises an eyebrow at him.

Kuroo rolls his eyes. You swallow down a laugh with a sip of water.

“And,” Kuroo croons, rolling his head to the side, “I’ve got to focus on my career.” He threads his fingers with yours effortlessly, holding up your clasped hands for your mother to see. “And so does she.”

Your heart is pounding now, blood thrumming in your ears. If none of your words are enough to convince his mother that this is ‘real’, then surely your darkening cheeks must do the trick.

“Well now,” his mother coos, “seems like you’ve got it all worked out.”

Something’s off. It’s in the way Kuroo’s mother looks at him. In the weight of the silence that’s engulfed you. In the way he squeezes your hand a little tighter.

You’re missing something. You can feel it in your gut. There’s an important piece of information you’re not privy to, or perhaps a part of Kuroo’s personal history that you haven’t been told.

Regardless of what it is, Kuroo and his mother seem to be having a silent war over it.

“I never asked,” you cut in, desperate to bring an end to this tension, “but what do you do for work?”

Kuroo’s mother blinks at you for a moment, as if she hasn’t quite processed what you’ve asked. “Oh, I’m a teacher.”

“What grade?” You ask. If you keep this ball rolling, then maybe you’ll all survive the evening.

“Middle school,” she nods, “although truth be told, I feel like I should’ve gone for elementary.”

“Why?” You smile. “Are the pre-teens too hormonal?”

Kuroo’s mother sighs, sitting back in her chair. “You wouldn’t believe how foolish some of those children can be.”

“Tell her about those boys who tried to make a flamethrower during chemistry,” Kuroo chuckles. He’s smiling, but he still looks beleaguered.

“Oh my God,” his mother groans. You worry for a moment; is she mad? Upset? Embarrassed?

None of those, apparently. She launches right into the story, complete with hand gestures.

You laugh along. Next to you, Kuroo’s shoulders slump a bit.

It may not be a victory, but the energy in the room has definitely shifted. You’ve got something to talk about. That’s one problem out of the way.

All you want to focus on now is getting Kuroo through the rest of the evening.

✧ ✧ ✧

A few more hours of idle yet painful conversation maintained primarily by you, and you’re ushered off to bed. It’s barely even nine thirty, but you’re ready to pass out and stay comatose until the morning. And an early rise means you can leave even earlier.

You’re not sure what to make of this place. There’s love here. You’re sure of it. And you think Kuroo’s aware of it, too.

But it’s a different kind of love; one that’s shaped differently, that’s taken on a distinct pallor. A certain distance, maybe? Love expressing itself primarily as nagging concern – something that often doesn’t feel much like love at all. It’s a kind of love that’s difficult to swallow, one that makes you want to push someone away rather than seek them out.

But you can’t be sure of anything. You only know so much. And quite frankly, your head is starting to hurt from all the thinking and worrying.  

The room you’ve been relegated is Kuroo’s old bedroom, but you wouldn’t have guessed. There’s not much of him here; a few Shounen Jump’s here and there, a dusty volleyball sitting on the bookshelf next to a cheap-looking cat trinket.

There’s not much to imply that a teenage boy ever lived here, let alone a working adult. You wonder, briefly, how often Kuroo comes to visit. You can’t imagine he stays long.

The man in question looks far too big for this place, anyway. Even the double bed shoved up against the wall doesn’t look long enough to fit his entire body.

Unfortunately, it’s the only acceptable place to sleep in the room. There’s not even a couch for you to lie on, or even a spare futon.

Maybe you should’ve thought of this before agreeing to visit his mother for the evening.

But it’s too late now; the two of you are stationed on opposite sides of the room, both uncomfortably aware of the fact that there is, believe it or not, only one bed. You’re not against the idea of sharing a bed, even if for one night, but the prospect still feels… strange. Embarrassing, even.

Kuroo clears his throat, taking another perfunctory look around the room.

“I’ll just sleep on the floor,” he says, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Oh, no, I—”

“I dragged you into this,” he smiles. “It’s the least I can do.”

You open your mouth to protest, but he’s already leaving the room. The door swings shut behind him softly, leaving just the slightest crack.

You take a quick moment to change in your pyjamas, sitting yourself down on the bed with a sigh.

There’s no way this whole charade wasn’t going to have its uncomfortable moments. You were well-aware of that when you’d entered into it. But it has certainly thrown you some curveballs. If you’d asked yourself three months ago if you’d thought you’d end up sitting on a bed in a stranger’s house, after what was perhaps the most uncomfortable dinner of your life, waiting for your fake boyfriend to return as he sought out a blanket so he could sleep on the floor, you would’ve thought you were quite mental.

But you don’t mind. The thought of Kuroo having to go through this on his own, being lambasted with questions about why he hasn’t settled down and why he isn’t expecting a child… That must be frustrating to bear solo.

You hear voices in the hallway. His mother.

“Oh, she gets cold at night,” you hear Kuroo say, “so we usually use two blankets.”

His mother tsks. “That sounds rather high maintenance.”

Your stomach twists a little at that. So, you didn’t succeed. As soon as you’re out of sight, the façade drops.

“God forbid she gets cold,” Kuroo mumbles.

There’s an awkward pause. Somehow, the silence feels more honest. Like both Kuroo and his mother can talk with no holds barred without you there. Seems there’s a lot you still don’t know.

“I just think the two of you don’t have much chemistry.”

The words jolt through you. It’s not real. Your relationship isn’t real. But for some reasons, those words sting. Is it because they mean you’ve failed to do your job well? You were supposed to be helping Kuroo get his mother off his back, not give her more things to pick at him for.

“Excuse me?” Even Kuroo sounds frustrated.

“She’s no Ritsuko.”

It’s the way she says the word that betrays its relevance.

The silence that follows is pregnant with tension.

Ritsuko must be an ex. But that’s none of your business. He’s not your real boyfriend.

“I don’t want her to be Ritsuko.”

You’ve never heard Kuroo’s voice like that. It’s sharp, tight, unfamiliar.

“I still think you made a mistake, Tetsurou.”

“Would you just drop it?” There’s an edge to his tone, like his voice is armed with a kind of sharpness that people don’t tend to direct towards their parents.

“Well, you know what they say,” his mother sighs, a familiar kind of parental condescension in her voice. “Mother knows best.”

“If you want me to respect your choices, then you have to respect mine.”

Those words seem to strike her silent, the only sound the thumping of feet along the hallway.  

The light of the hallway spills into the room as Kuroo pushes the bedroom door open, scowl on his face and blanket in hand.

You sit up a little straighter.

Should you say something? Were you supposed to have heard that? It seemed intense…

“Can I have a pillow?” He asks. The edge in his voice is gone as he turns to you, the resentment in his face replaced with exhaustion.

“Sure.” You reach behind you and grab one of the pillows, passing it to him.

“Thanks,” he sighs.

He pays you no mind as he starts preparing his ‘bed’ half a step away from you, tossing the blanket on the floor haphazardly. His back is turned, but you don’t need to see his face to know he’s scowling.

“Hey, Kuroo?”

“Hm?”

“Are you okay?” You ask gently.

He sighs, his shoulders sinking. “It’s fine. Don’t worry about me.”

It’s almost comical, how ineffective that request is.

You reach out and take his hand. You’re not sure why; it’s instinct, more than anything.

But Kuroo turns around and looks at you, his eyes wide. The expression makes him look a few years younger, confused and hopeful.

“I’m willing to listen, if you need it.” Your voice is so, so quiet. Is it the right thing to do? Is this what he wants to hear? It’s hard to say. All you know is that he doesn’t deserve to go to bed in such a foul mood.

Kuroo swallows roughly, still staring at you. His hand tightens around yours. His palm feels rough; was that due to the years of volleyball?

He sighs, sitting himself next to you on the bed and leaning back against the wall. He’s still holding your hand.

“It’s just…” His voice is delicate; perhaps even childlike. “Every time I come here, it feels like I’m fourteen again.”

You nod. It’s easy enough to understand – and you’re sure a lot of people feel similarly – but…

“Why?”

Kuroo blinks rapidly for a moment, closing his eyes. “It’s like… any progress I’ve made is dashed, and I’m back to square one.”

“What do you mean?” You rack your brain for any idea of what he could be talking about. Kuroo’s always seemed so secure, so stable. Even when he doesn’t know what he’s doing, he goes at it with such confidence that it makes you feel like he’s got it all under control.

But that’s Kuroo at work.

It seems that his private life was an entirely different stadium – one he can’t navigate so smoothly.

He opens his eyes and looks at you.

There’s a lot he wants to say. You can see it in his eyes. Yet something seems to hold him back.

“I have a hard time letting people in,” he admits.

“Really?” That surprises you. And yet, it doesn’t.

Kuroo is the perfect picture of cordiality, with an enviable ability to get along with most people he meets. He’d been lavished with praise for it at work numerous times.

But cordial doesn’t mean vulnerable. And now you think about it, you can’t quite imagine him letting his walls down all that often.

“Mhm,” he nods. “I… struggle with being vulnerable.”

You nod slowly. The ‘shape’ of Kuroo becoming clearer in the fog. “If you don’t mind me asking… why?”

Kuroo drags his bottom lip through his teeth for a moment, deep in thought. “I think it’s because I’m afraid I’ll get left behind.”

It startles you. The honesty.

Maybe it’s because you’ve just been talking about vulnerability. Or maybe it’s because you’d given him the platform he needed tonight. But you couldn’t have prepared for the weight of those words, nor the way he said them.

“Kuroo…” You murmur. You’re not sure what there is to say. All you know is that you feel that, too. Maybe less intensely than him, but you understand.

“That, or I’ll break someone’s heart,” he sighs, running his hand spare hand down his face. “Every time I’m here, mum grills me about being single. Every damn time. And she likes to bring up…”

He trails off. You can make a good guess of what the rest of that sentence might be.

Ritsuko. It’s not your place to ask; but you can’t help but be concerned for him.

You let the silence sit for a moment. This conversation is for him – it’s his choice what you do and don’t discuss. Who knows, maybe asking about this Ritsuko would just bring him more distress.

“Mum really wants grandkids, if that wasn’t obvious,” he scoffs, running a hand through his hair.

You smile a little. “I figured.”

He presses his lips together, looking up at his ceiling. “I don’t… I don’t want to marry some poor girl while I’m young just to pump out a child or two to please my mother. I don’t want to start a family if it’s just going to collapse around the kids because me and their mother weren’t right for each other.”

It’s coming together in your mind. The need for a fake girlfriend. The fact his grandmother would be concerned enough to arrange a miai. The fact that, during your entire time working next to him, you hadn’t heard anything about a partner.

Kuroo Tetsurou is starting to make sense.  

“That sort of thing can really affect kids, you know?”

“Yeah, I do.”

His hand tightens around yours once more. You’d forgotten he was holding it. But, you suppose, touch from someone you trust can be a wonderful antidote for nerves.

“That, and…” He squeezes his eyes shut again, frowning. “It wouldn’t be fair on whoever I married just because it’s the ‘right’ thing to do according to my mother. It wouldn’t make either of us happy.” He pauses, his voice lowering ever so slightly. “It’d just be a waste of everyone’s time.”

“It sounds like a lot of pressure,” you say. It’s the truth.

Kuroo chuckles. “You could say that.”

He swallows, finally letting go of your hand. “Thanks for coming tonight, by the way. You saved me a lecture.”

“No problem,” you smile. “The food was good, at least.”

Kuroo cracks a small smile. You’re glad for it. He shifts forward on the bed and stands up, stretching his arms above his head. “I’m gonna try and sleep.”

“Good idea,” you nod.

Kuroo flicks the light off and the two of you settle down into your respective beds, shifting uncomfortably under the sheets. Yours feel new; a bit stiffer than you’d like, with all the firmness of that damned blouse you had to wear in high school. Uncomfortable as it is, it’s not the reason you feel so restless.

Today keeps running through your mind, random moments deciding to hang in your mind with startling clarity. Nothing had gone wrong, but it feels like nothing went right. It’s this strange limbo, a skinny path running flush against a mountain, hugged by a steep, seemingly unending drop.

Something clicks into place. Something about how Kuroo sees himself.

Kuroo Tetsurou doesn’t feel whole; he feels like a patchwork, a collage shambled together, drawn from a whole range of other people. Things that seem so certain to other people are lost in a fog for him; ideas about love, about family, about security.

For Kuroo, there’s doubt. A fear that something will fall apart. A fear that he’ll repeat the same mistakes as his parents – the feeling that he already has.      

Divorce tends to do that to people. To families. It’s not as simple as a family unit being cleft in two. Instead, it’s like they’re torn off into chunks, bits of themselves overlapping with bits of everyone else, but with edges that don’t line up nicely anymore. Even when the parents tell their kids they don’t need to pick sides, it feels like every choice you make, every little thing you say, betrays an allegiance that can be weaponised. It leaves people as a bunch of glued together fragments without a place to belong.

Some kids respond with a staunch loyalty to one parent, simplifying their experience into a straightforward tale of good and evil. Others are left adrift, lost in the knowledge that perhaps both parents are wrong, perhaps both have performed acts of cruelty against one another.

But it’s impossible to known which Kuroo is. You have your suspicions, of course, but you know better than to make assumptions.

You roll over onto your side, seeking out his shape in the dark.

“Hey, Tetsurou?”

“Yeah?” His voice is already laden with sleep.

“Thanks for opening up to me,” you murmur. “I really appreciate it.”

There’s silence for a moment. Then, a confused little chuckle. “Shouldn’t I be thanking you?”

It doesn’t sound like he’s teasing you. Thank God.

“Well, it can’t’ve been easy,” you say, trying to find the right words to express yourself. “So… thanks.”

He hums in response. “Yeah, well… thanks.”

Nothing more needs to be said.

As you finally drift off into an uneasy sleep, you hope that, at the very least, you’ve managed to bring your friend some comfort.