#he's so cocky and frankly cruel to her

[piratewithvigor]

Tay needs to leave his ass fr

[dreamingofbucky]

Inescapable

chapter one

summary: moving to a new neighborhood in Nueva York meant new places to see and new people to meet. Miguel O'Hara is an enigma. and after having a failed date attempt with him, you find out he's your coworker. but he's not the same man you've been pining over the last few weeks. He's much more cruel and something's not right.

warnings: uhhh dick!miguel? lol red flags but reader's blind and just thinks of him between her thighs despite his cocky attitude ayoo.

wordcount: 2.3k

author's note: mainly intro to series sorry if it's boring 😭 i can't wait to amp up the tension in the next chapter!

tag list: @yehet-moi-ohorat @127aliciia

series masterlist

It all happened so abruptly. 

Moving to a new part of Nueva York wasn’t something you expected. Getting a new job meant a higher salary, which meant you could afford a little better than most with what you’ve been able to save up and then what you’d be earning. But even ‘better’ wasn’t great. 

You unpacked your bags into your one bedroom apartment that seemed bigger and better maintained on the photos online. It didn’t pass you by the way the door in the bathroom jiggles a little out of the door hinges as if one more slam will make the whole damn thing fall down. 

And you didn’t have the energy to deal with the damn outlet in the kitchen that would reset any device connected to it every two hours. You definitely weren’t going to put your coffee pot there. You liked to wake up to a freshly brewed pot with an automatic timer. 

The apartment next door sat vacant since you moved in. You enjoyed it quite a bit, remembering how your last set of neighbors were up all hours of the night either blasting music, fucking, or arguing. You enjoyed the peace and quiet a little too much. 

Quite frankly, you’ve become comfortable with the silence pertaining to Unit 209. 

Despite that, things have been moving along swiftly and pleasantly in your life. You even bumped into someone three weeks ago walking down the street and it wasn’t just someone. He was sweet and kind, laughing at the mistake of you switching phones by accident after the collision. Thinking his phone was yours until you realized your phone didn’t have the cutest princess as the one on the lock screen. He fumbled for a little, with his stance and his words, as you both switched phones to the appropriate owners. He said it was his daughter on the screen. 

His name was Miguel O’Hara, he’d said. You told him yours and his eyes lit up like he’s never heard a name quite like yours before. And it sounded like rich honey coming off his lips when he repeated it. This just made your cheeks burn and flutters swarm all over your body. 

Next thing you knew, you bumped into him in all parts of your new town. The grocery store, the park where you like to run, and even the flower shop. He swore he knew nothing about flowers and was just trying to get some for his daughter for some school project. You’d laughed and helped him pick out the best kinds. 

All of these chance encounters that really led to nothing were starting to bug you until that one day he finally asked for your number. It took him a while to finally do so, but you were thankful that the universe somehow made it its mission to collide your pathways to constantly see him. 

You texted here and there, not much different to your dismay from the collisions in town that made you think he wanted more. You didn’t even know much else about the man besides he had a daughter and he liked that steakhouse a few blocks from your place. 

You hoped to change that soon, and that’s when it seemed like the universe was on your side. 

He asked you out for dinner at that steakhouse.

And then stood you up. 

***

You wanted to believe that there was good in people. Even the most honest ones. But there seemed to always be an anomaly that infected everyone. 

You had your flaws and your omissions. You had your quirks that only you’d ever witness within the walls of your apartment. And you had your utter disappointment in people that lied and dragged you along. Like him. 

Miguel O’Hara. 

You waited for one hour in that damn steakhouse before you gave up, asked for a check and then went home. You thought he’d at least pick you up from your place, finally get to see your new place. Funny now, he’s the least of who you’d like entering it. 

That humiliating night only fed your anger more until it was time to start your new job. You took the following weekend to relax, take a bath in that glorious tub that might have some scratches and chipping, but it was divine. You didn’t have a tub in your old place. 

Monday morning came abruptly and you were excited for new things. New job, new you as you liked to joke. 

Slipping on your favorite flower dress and golden necklace for good luck and you were out of the door, heading to the campus that would hold your new job title. Alchemax was bigger than you remembered from your interview and tour and your division was in the skyscraper on a tippy top floor. There seemed to be endless halls to lose yourself in. Even your department was large. To the point where if there was a project that needed to be completed, they had to break you guys off into groups to get multiple done at once. 

But you liked your job. You liked being able to focus on what you studied your ass off for years at school. It wasn’t everyday that people in your city could say the same. With the effects of the Rapture that took over the city ages ago, crime and violence had only heightened. You leaned heavily on those action packed superhero films sometimes wondering if Nueva York would ever get better. 

You knew superheroes weren’t real. They didn’t exist. But you still hoped that there was something better coming for your city. You loved it, really. But you also hated it. 

***

“Here’s your project packet with your team members listed,” a loud voice boomed behind you. It was your supervisor and he looked annoyed. 

It was your fourth day, so you slapped on a smile and nodded, grabbing the packet. You’d only met the few coworkers that milled about your office space, but there was a whole floor to get to know. You buried yourself in your work, with it just being your first week, so you didn’t really socialize even when it came to lunchtime. You liked to take your lunch outside anyway to watch the birds in the sky or dream about a life where there wasn’t always crime afoot. 

You sighed and plopped the packet on your desk and flipped to the first page where your team member’s names would be listed. Your eyes scanned the first line and your eyes bugged out. 

Miguel O’Hara. 

This must be some cruel joke, right? 

You haven’t heard from this man in a week and here he is. In plain black letters on your desk. You didn’t miss the way your heart skipped a beat and your cheeks burned. 

His was the only name next to yours. It’d just be you two. You took a deep breath and mentally prepared yourself. The packet thankfully showed which office area he works under, so you stood up and made your way to it. The packet was clutched tightly between your arms and hugged your chest. Your purple dress today flowed a little around your thighs. You liked wearing dresses to work, despite some of the looks you’d get. 

You even heard one coworker joke that this wasn’t some kind of Victoria’s Secret runway which just didn’t make sense. Every outfit you chose fit the guidelines that were given to you upon your first day. You didn’t like the way slacks molded to your body. You felt much more comfortable with a flowy dress and heels. 

Your steps echoed down the hall until you took a right and were met with a few other workers muttering at their screen, their phones, or each other. You scanned the faces until you saw the one you needed all the way in the back. He was staring at his screen, hunched over with his wide shoulders. You couldn’t see his face just yet, but you already knew how he looked. 

Handsome as ever. You’d never forget a face like that. It only bummed you out more that things didn’t progress and the date ultimately ended with you cursing him forever. You had a twinge of guilt that maybe something happened with his daughter that made him not show. But he would’ve texted or called, right? 

You shook your head, not wanting to think about the failed attempt to get to know the man and marched your way over to his area. He doesn’t turn around or look up when you make your final step. Your hip is aligned with his shoulder and you clear your throat. 

He finally turns to look, not amused in the slightest. Not even an indication that he recognized you or blew you off. Two can play at that game. 

What was once an idea to play off the horrible date and start off fresh by introducing yourself and striking conversation and even making a joke that you didn’t realize he worked at Alchemax, you bit your tongue. 

His eyes glance a little at your dress and your waist, but then flickers back to your face.

Your breath hitches in the slightest at his remarkable beauty. Fuck, you forgot how good he looked up close. His brown eyes narrowed a bit, watching you silently. You swallowed, but it seemed like there was cotton stuck in your mouth. 

“We’ve got that project to work on,” you finally mutter, tapping your heeled toe on the ground. 

“What project?” He replied with a bitter tone. He turns back to look at his computer and your impatience flares. 

“The one that we were assigned to,” you huff. To prove a point, you slam the packet down on his table and he pushes his chair back. You hold your breath as you watch his features change. From confused to annoyed, to outright cold. 

You want to say something, anything. Even possibly bring up the fact that he still hasn’t apologized or made up an excuse for the missed date. And that he’s acting like a complete ass right now, not even acknowledging you! 

Your anxious habits come back to life as your toe continues to tap. A scowl forms on his face. He runs thick fingers through his wavy brown hair. You’d be lying to yourself if you said you didn’t imagine your own hands running through those strands. Either when you kissed him or you had him in between your thighs. But those were just dreams that never came to fruition because of this asshole. 

You bet his hair was soft too. 

You shake your head, attempting to pull yourself out of your own misery. 

“I was transferred to this department last minute,” he finally says. “Not supposed to be in any of these ‘group projects’. I’ve got other things to do. Not being tied to anyone.” 

And with that, he lifts his hand and waves you off. That fucker waves you off. Like you’re his butler or something waiting for his command to go. 

It takes everything in you to not slap that smug look off his face. To not make a scene. But it’s your first week and you’re already finding coziness in your new apartment you wouldn’t be able to afford without this job. That was something you couldn’t give up. Also not the best choice to drain almost all your savings on that damn security deposit and rent payment. 

This prick was not going to ruin that for you. 

“I’ll do the work then, and you can do whatever the hell it is that you do.” 

His head snaps to look at you and his lips twitch. Without warning, he rises. And that’s when you forget how tall the man is. But it seems like he’d gotten taller since the last time you saw him in person. You think it was the flower shop or the park when you’d last seen Miguel O’Hara. He also looked more muscular. Arms protruding a little more in his button down and his shoulders seemed to have little more meat to them. He’s even got some faint scars on his neck. 

Did you ever notice those before?

You were definitely losing it. 

He peers down at you like you’re some child being lectured for stealing candy out of the cupboard. His hands go to his waist and he leans, hovering over you. It feels almost predatory like. You swallow again. 

“You do that,” he finally says. 

That’s it. That’s all he says. 

“I can’t believe you,” the words tumble out of your mouth without warning. You bite your lip, hoping no one else heard that. You don’t want to have to start rivalries with coworkers during your first week. But this man enrages you. 

“Believe it,” he spits before taking a side step. You watch as he shakes his head and walks out of the office area. You don’t know where the hell he’s going. 

You glance over at his desk and see that he’s got some things set up around the space. A card with a watercolor rose petal over it. Possibly something his daughter got for him for his birthday or something. A picture of his daughter sits by the computer monitor and made your heart lurch in your chest. 

And then something else that caught your eye. You look around the area to only see busy workers paying you no mind before you extend your hand and pull it out from under a manual guide. 

It’s a tiny piece of paper, in the same shape as a business card. There was some chicken scratch on it, but when you peer closer to read you gasp. 

Dinner at 7 at the Steakhouse. Don’t forget flowers for her.  Wear your best suit. It matches her eyes.

It was all there. The date you were supposed to have with Miguel. 

Why did he still have the reminder card on his desk if he completely forgot about it?

And why did he act like he didn’t know you at all? 

[tigirl-and-co]

Ganondorf for blorbo bingo.

Oh god oh fuck

I'm gonna do this for both WW and TP Gdorf lol. I love how diametrically opposed they are!!!

Twilight Princess Ganondorf

Absolute rat bastard stinky garbage nasty nasty. I find him much less intriguing as a character, but very apt for the story he is meant to tell.

He became a minor deity in the twilight realm thanks to his power. Tp is THE Hijacked by Ganon game. His sneer? Unparalleled. Frankly, the sword fight against him still makes me clench every muscle in my body.

He is such a cocky bastard! And this incarnation doesn't recognize Link. He's like 'lol good job getting here, twink. You wanna fight me? Too bad! Here's the ruler of your country, kill her if you can!'

This ganondorf wants what is RIGHTFULLY his and he will do anything to achieve that. No matter how much time it takes...

Wind Waker Ganondorf

Hi. Um. I talk about him ad nauseam and it's because as soon as I dive back into Zelda my brain sticks to him like a bug on a windshield

He spent hundreds of years trapped underwater, contemplating how he came so close not once, but TWICE

And it changed him. He's no longer the violent, scorched earth tyrant of OoT. He has no desire to rule a wasteland. He could have killed those girls. Hell, he could have killed Link

And he should have.

But he saw them for what they were- children caught up in a cruel game. Link didn't have the triforce, he was just some kid being shoehorned into a role that needed filling.

When he attacks Zelda in the final fight, he sheathes his sword

It drives me fucking NUTS I am FOAMING AT THE MOUTH about it.

His realization that he didn't *want* to be a monster wasn't enough to turn him from his path. Of course it didn't. He was already a monster, he could not take that back.

When Daphnes makes his wish, Ganondorf is no longer fighting to win. To survive is beyond even him. He simply knows nothing else. So he fights his last fight on the grand stage of destiny, knowing neither he nor his people will be remembered.

The wind... it is blowing.

[earth90214]

Benjamin Walter Hardy-Parker hcs 🫶

Benjamin Walter because as much as I love Walter being his first name its pretty dated and Peter and Felicia would both understand how cruel kids can be (Peter spent so long being called Puny Parker, he definitely wanted his son’s name to be something he wouldn’t be bullied over) so I feel like Benjamin should be first name rather than his middle name. His parents/family friends call him Benji, but he goes by Ben more as he gets older.

Either an only child or a twin, no other option but I have no hcs for a twin rn so just assume everything here is only-child atm.

White hair and locs!! I’m a big fan of naturally white-haired Fel so this one’s just kind of obvious. Felicia does his retwists/styles!!

As far as powers go, I hc that the powers he inherits from Peter are all post The Other: Evolve or Die. He has organic webbing, wallcrawling, spider-sense, and night vision. As far as powers from Felicia, he doesn’t have claws in the same way she does. The keratin of his nails is thicks and grows sharper, but he can’t retract his claws. Instead, he has stingers like Peter (post-The Other) and Kaine. He also gets fangs from Felicia and pointed ears with thinner cartilage up top. His tychokinesis is a lot weaker than his Mother’s. Instead of it working in a radius and being targeted, he can only target it at one object/person at a time.

Ben’s best friend is Normie, but he also is friends with Gerry Drew and Danielle Cage.

Alternatively, he has a bit of a frenemy relationship with Billie Morales, a long standing rivalry that originated because neither of them wanted to share Miles when they were younger.

He gets into trouble a lot and Miles has been dragged into his schemes on more than one occasion, though unwillingly.

He’s super cocky, which isn’t unexpected when you’re the son of the two most famous capes in NYC, but he’s a genuinely kind person.

He definitely acts a lot like early ASM Peter, but mixed with Felicia’s direct (and frankly scathing) insults. Both his parents get MEAN 😭 its not surprising that he does too.

He doesn’t steal stuff the way Felicia does but a lot of the trouble he gets into results in things that could get bystanders hurt and this is one of the things Peter lectures him on often. “Great power, great responsibility” is a phrase that’s seared into his mind but something he’s yet to fully grasp.

As for hobbies, Ben enjoys sculpting and pottery, spending a lot of time in his Mother’s art studio and incorporating his Father’s love for technology into his art.

He confides a lot in Ben (Reilly) and Miles when he has issues with his parents, but the one person he follows around like a baby duck is Kaine. This is unfortunate for Peter because Kaine is definitely the kind of person to pick Ben up by his ankles and swing him around like a helicopter and then release him as a fun game.

Ben loves animals and spends his weekends volunteering at the animal shelter closest to his house. He and Aunt May knit sweaters for the dogs there whenever he goes over to her house.

[the-soulwatcher]

A DnD Character : The Crimson Warmonger

Mael Redblade (old name Maelys Hallowpride)

Alignement : Neutral Evil Age : 30 years old Race : Human Gender : Female Pronouns : She/her (to others), They/them (to herself) Class : Weapon Master Warrior/Assassin Rogue Specific traits : Scar on the right eye, multiple war scars over her body, polite voice but has the vocabulary of a scoundrel Personality : Brave, cruel, ambitious, cocky Sexuality/relationship : Pansexual/Aromantique Values/Weakness : Power is a sign of loyalty and respect, the Law of the strongest, survival/Helplessness, mercy

Mael was born in a tyrannic little town where the stronger had privilege over the rest and grew up through values of violence and power. Her parents were prayers of the good gods but poisoned by fear, it led Mael to despise goodness, considering it as a weak feature. Longing for freedom, she trained herself among the violent mercenaries of the city to survive her condition.

She left the town when the Zhentarim offers her an opportunity to work with them. Proving herself to be an excellent fighter and instructor, as an independant mercenary working along the Black network, she had been engaged multiple times by other military companies and organizations to train their units or lead patrols. However, the most renown militia of the Coast always try to avoid engaging her because of the tactics she uses that they judge cruel and vicious.

She aspires to raise her own organization as a baron through mercenary activities with her own army trained under her dogma.

______________________________________________________________

Some Quotes :

" Good faith is bullshit. It's all about circumstances and situations. And it's only those who has power that can caused it. " " It said that war lead to peace. I say war lead only to even more wars. And that suits me, because war pay me well. " " I'm strong simply because I wanted to be free. But in this world, freedom doesn't exist for weaklings. They're just lucky to have someone to protect them. A shame, you can't find protectors everywhere. " " Honor in battle ? I use it as an excuse only when I feel bored. But if I have to take your life, be sure it will always be without. "

A quote said from an old zhent partner who had felt affection towards Mael :

" You're using survival as a pretext to your thirst for battles. At first, I thought we were the same, that we wanted to become stronger so that nobody would manipulate us no more. But I was wrong… "

A conversation from Mael on her thoughts about gods :

" I do not worship any gods. People worships a god only when they're given favours. I've never had any favours from them during times when I felt the need to. My parents prayed nights and days the gods of goodness but it was mainly the gods of abundance and luck they were praying the most. And I understand above all that gods do not give favours from mercy but from making you apart of their plans.

My home town, Priapurl, didn't give a damn about gods and thus it didn't holds any potential to them despite the few believers in it. It's because those believers were weak and helpless. What power can a god draw from that ?

No gods intervened at Priapurl. The only gods there was the ruler and its mercenaries. Power and gold in the entertainment of blood and battles. Goodness had no place.

Well, it's not entirely true when I said that - no gods intervened -. There was one, and I was the one who prevents it to succeed. A devotee of Illmater who had planned to overthrow the town to its ruler. He failed and got sent to the bloody arena where I had to kill him. He begged me to take his side but frankly, given the situation, he was done for. There was no way I would had let myself got dragged into his miserable fate.

Gods can spit on me for slaying their choosen ones and from stopping their plans, if they really wanted to save that town, it's not a choosen they should had sent but a warlord. Deities always find excuses to send broken minds instead of powerful people to convert, because it's easier for them to draw devotion from the weak.

We all know the truth : people who holds power knows they can unbalance gods plans. So why worship a god when you have the power to change the plans yourself ? "

[jadedvibes]

Crossing the Line

Summary: After your friends set you up on a blind date with your sworn enemy, you both drunkenly decide to mess with them by making a bet to see who can pretend to be a happy couple the longest.

Pairing: Beefy!Bucky x reader

Warnings: 18+ only, smut, unprotected possessive sex, beefy!bucky manhandling the reader a lot, mirror sex, fingering, light angst with a happy ending, fluff, swearing, Fifty Shades of Grey reference, alcohol, jealous!bucky, brief run-in with an "ex" with a wife, pet names, Bucky is kinda cocky, enemies to lovers, fake dating.

Word Count: 10.1k

Like, comment, and/or reblog to put a giant smile on my face ♡

“We shouldn't, right? It’d be too cruel,” Natasha asked warily. 

“Nat, they have so many things in common, and frankly I am tired of their bitter rivalry over every little thing. We can’t finish a game of Uno without things getting contentious. And god forbid that they end up on the opposite team for charades,” Sam said. “Would giving them a chance at meeting outside of our game nights be so bad?”

“No, but you know how they get when they’re left alone.”

“Bitter and argumentative, sure, but maybe there’s a hidden spark just waiting to ignite into a blazing passionate fire.”

Nat looked at Sam incredulously, “I think you’re doing this to get back at Barnes for flirting with your sister.” 

Sam smiled sheepishly, “Well why did you offer to set her up on the blind date to begin with? You were fully on board at one point.”

“I just feel like there is something there that they’re not seeing, and I have a strong sense that if given the chance, it could work out really well. Plus Bucky’s not a bad guy, and after the dates she’s been on — well I trust him at least a little bit.”

“And at the end of the day it will be a really funny story if it backfires,” Sam said cheekily. 

Nat sighed, a knowing smirk playing on her lips, “Yeah, can’t argue with that.” 

┈┈┈┈┈・・

You walked up to the doors of the restaurant with purpose. Your best friends Nat and Sam had set you up on a blind date, and while the thought of that was unnerving, you trusted their judgment. Blind dates were a fun way of meeting people, or so you told yourself, and at the very least you knew that the mystery man was vetted by reliable people, so it shouldn’t be too bad. 

With a deep breath you opened the door and walked towards the hostess. 

“Hello, do you have a reservation?” the cheery wide-eyed brunette asked. 

“I believe my date is already here. Is there a man in a blue shirt waiting for someone? I was told that’s what he would be wearing,” you said. 

“Yes, of course. He got in a few minutes ago, told me to expect a woman in a burgundy dress,” she said as she took in your attire. “Right this way,” she said gleefully before quickly grabbing a couple menus and walking you towards a candlelit corner booth. 

You couldn’t see the man given the angle of the booth, but the moment you arrived at the table you were filled with instant regret. 

“And here we are, your waiter will be right out in a second,” the jovial hostess said before giving you a sly wink and leaving you to be. 

You were met with familiar blue eyes that looked just as bewildered as yours. 

“You’ve got to be kidding me. You?!” you exclaimed at your annoying foe.

“I’ve got to be kidding? What the hell are you doing here?” 

You huffed out a breath before sliding into the seat across from Bucky. “Obviously this is some kind of punishment aimed at you for taking things too far last Saturday.”

He ran a hand through his hair, “When I play charades, I play to win, you know this.”

“I know, but did you have to nearly flip Sam’s coffee table?”

“This isn’t worth rehashing, what do we do, just go home?” he asked. 

“I’m hungry, and while I could go find something to eat elsewhere, we’re already here. Can you keep it together without any drama for a little while?” you asked sarcastically. 

“Only if you can,” he said with a raised brow. 

“Great, I’ll just need a lot of wine, but then I’ll be good to go.”

“Perfect, let’s get a bottle or two,” he said before flagging down a waiter. 

┈┈┈┈┈・・

“Some prank huh?” you muttered after placing both your food and drink order because you had no intention of prolonging the night. 

“I know this is Sam’s way of getting back at me for something.”

“Yeah no doubt, but I’m not sure what I did to deserve this.”

“Right, because you’re perfect,” Bucky said drily. 

“Exactly.”

Bucky leaned back and looked at you with a tight smile. “So what do we do to get back at them? I don’t think they should get away with setting us up on a date that they knew wouldn’t work out.” 

“Whoa, I’m a damn delight, this could’ve worked out if you were anyone else.” 

Bucky pinched the bridge of his nose. “Why are you like this? I only agreed to this because Sam said this girl was unlike any I’d dated before. I didn’t think he’d mean it so literally.”

You furrowed your brows. “The hell is that supposed to mean?” 

He rolled his eyes, “Nothing bad, I just usually got along with my exes, at least for a while. You and I, on the other hand, have never gotten along.”

You nodded your head, “Yeah that’s true.” You paused for a minute as the waiter brought out your wine and poured it into your glasses, leaving behind the bottle.

After taking a few gulps, “Maybe you were right, I mean you pulled out an iron for that shirt, we can’t let them get away with this,” you said jokingly. 

“Thank you for noticing,” he said as he subconsciously ran his hands over his nicely pressed shirt. “So what are we thinking? We could TP their house,” he said before taking a big swig of his wine. 

You scoffed, “Bucky, how old are you?” 

“Well give us an idea, smartypants.”

You sighed, taking a moment to contemplate. Unfortunately, you realized every option would be juvenile. “Ugh I don’t know. Sadly, the mature thing to do would be to pretend like this didn’t affect us so that they don’t get the reaction they hoped for.” 

“That’s lame,” he said as your waiter brought out your food. 

“So is their prank,” you muttered before taking a bite of your pasta. 

The two of you ate in silence for a little bit because neither of you knew how to speak to each other companionably. It was always quips, retorts, and sarcastic remarks that fueled your conversations. 

After a beat, you asked, “Did you pick out the restaurant?” 

Bucky furrowed his brow, “Why, do you hate it?” 

Your eyes widened, “No, I actually really like it.” 

“Oh,” he chuckled in surprise. “I did, it’s my favorite spot for good Italian food.”

“Ah, well you’ve got decent taste — at least in food,” you said with a small smirk. 

He tugged at his bottom lip, trying to suppress a smile. “Do you want more wine?” 

“Yes please.”

Heat rose to your cheeks as the effects of the wine were finally making itself known. With one bottle down and another on the way, you felt a little more at ease in Bucky’s presence. 

“I don’t know why Nat would set me up with you, no offense — like she knows that I just got out of something a little messy.” 

Bucky’s eyes softened as he looked at you. “I know Sam is doing this to mess with me, but I can’t figure out what Nat’s thought process was in all of this. She’s usually so protective of you.”

“Yeah, I guess I’ll have to be more wary of her,” you said timidly. If you were completely sober you would shrug this off as a silly prank, but you weren’t and it was hard to process why your friend would mess with you in an area in which she knew you held many trust issues. 

Before you could ponder any further, the waiter reemerged, pouring more wine for the two of you. The two of you happily drank some more, not completely hating the date any longer. 

“You know what would be kind of funny?” Bucky mumbled more to himself. 

“Hmm?”

“If we pretended that this date was amazing and that we liked each other after it.” 

“Like liked each other?” you asked in surprise.

He let out a laugh, “Yes, like we felt a spark and decided to keep seeing each other.”

You giggled, “They’d never see that coming! But that would be hard to pull off.”

“I know,” Bucky blushed at the thought. 

“Regardless, you can’t seem to keep your cool around me when you’re sober, so it would never work.”

Bucky huffed out a breath, “Yeah that’s true, plus you despise me and start arguments for no reason whenever given the chance,” he shrugged.

You scoffed, “Right, I’m argumentative for absolutely no reason and you never upset me on purpose,” you muttered.

“That’s exactly right,” he said matter-of-factly. 

“I don’t know why you live to agitate me, I could totally keep it together and do it convincingly too.”

“Correction, you live to annoy me, and I know I could keep it together way better than you,” he said, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Wanna bet?” you blurted out. 

Bucky’s eyebrows raised, his interest was piqued. “Bet?”

“We do the pretend thing to mess with Nat and Sam — the first to back out loses.”

Bucky narrowed his eyes as he considered the proposition; it would be a good way to get back at Sam. And he would take that bet on principle just to prove you wrong and show you that you were the irrational one, but he knew something else was needed to make it more interesting. 

“What’s at stake? If we’re going to pretend to like each other in front of our friends it’s gotta be worthwhile.”

“Loser has to clean the winner’s place for a month.”

“Make it two months with laundry included and you’ve got yourself a deal. I could use the break.”

You snickered as you reached for your wine glass once more. “Yeah, and when I win you can enjoy the extra month of cleaning you’ll have to do at my place and yours.”

Bucky tilted his head, “Are we really doing this, or what?”

You extended your hand, “Two months of cleaning for whoever bails or starts drama first.”

He stretched out his hand, engulfing yours completely — and thus commenced the charade. 

┈┈┈┈┈・・

You woke up feeling dehydrated and hungover; you needed a painkiller and a giant cup of water to quell the throbbing in your head. Begrudgingly getting up to retrieve that from your kitchen was a difficult endeavor, but it certainly helped you feel a bit better afterwards. Once your head felt a little less heavy you thought back to the bet you made with Bucky. Even though you were drunk then, it wasn’t difficult to remember every detail of the conversation now. 

In the light of day you started to feel uncertain about following through with it, and you wondered if Bucky was going to bring it up himself. You wouldn’t be mad if he didn’t, but as you put some bread in the toaster you felt your phone buzz in your pocket. 

Bucky: Hi sugarplum, honey pie…

Well shit, he remembered. There was no way you were going to back down now. 

Y/N: Workshopping nicknames are we?

Bucky: Duh. I’m in it to win it, muffin.

Y/N: Okay good for you, but why are you texting me? There���s no one around to see.

Bucky: Nat didn’t text you?

You were about to type that she had not, but your phone began to buzz at that moment. Speaking of the devil, it was Nat calling to likely see how her crappy set-up went. Before answering you reminded yourself that you didn’t want to be Bucky’s housekeeper. 

You soon found out that Sam had already spoken to Bucky and that Nat was checking to confirm if you really were good to grab coffee in an hour. She seemed genuinely excited to hear that things went well with Bucky, which confused you immensely. Nat even claimed that she knew something was there, but before you could ask her to elaborate on that she had to run. Before hanging up, you agreed to meet up with them. 

So much for coasting for a few days before having to play pretend.

Before you could grumble about it too much you remembered that you had to text Bucky back before getting ready. You pulled up your messages and quickly typed out your response. 

Y/N: Nat called, I guess I’ll be seeing you soon. 

Bucky: Right, I was going to ask if you wanted me to pick you up on my way. 

You couldn’t tell if he was being nice or whether he was trying to further prolong your suffering, but you had a feeling it was the latter. 

Y/N: Fine. 

Bucky: Cool, I’ll text you before I leave, babygirl :P

You rolled your eyes at your screen. 

┈┈┈┈┈・・

Bucky pulled up to your place wearing a bright smile ten minutes before you were set to meet up with the other couple.

“What are you so happy about?” you asked as you buckled your seatbelt. 

“I’m just really looking forward to the upcoming two months of chore-free living, that’s all. Seeing you reminded me of what a great break I’m about to get.” 

You scoffed, “Wow, well I wouldn’t be too sure about that yet, Barnes.” 

“Barnes? No pet name for me, doll?” he asked cheekily. 

“I’ll think about it. Can we just save the talking for when we get to the coffee shop? I don’t even know why we’re doing this today.” 

“Steve and Sharon are out of town, so game night is pushed to tomorrow. Guess Sam and Nat still wanted to see us, and I think they’re also trying to confirm that we’re a thing.” 

“Well I am looking forward to messing with them about that,” you mumbled.

Bucky hummed in agreement, “Same, but let’s see how long you can hold out.” 

“All I know is it’ll be longer than you.”

Bucky scoffed as he turned a corner, “Right, just try not to fall in love with me while you’re at it.”

You snorted, “Shouldn’t be a problem.”

“Why’s that?” he asked with a self-assured smirk on his face. Bucky loved to mess with you, mainly because you were the only one that could keep up with him. 

You huffed a breath, “Because, I like my men a little less dick-ish.” 

“Ah, yes, that would be an issue then,” he said as he parked his car. After a second, he turned towards you with a smug smile, “But is too much dick, really that bad?” 

Groaning internally, you tried to rush out of the vehicle, ready for a moment away from him already. But Bucky was too quick, and he was there to help you out of the car once your door was open. You mumbled a thank you and moved to get across the street, but in your haste to get away, you tripped and stumbled onto the road. 

“Y/N!” Bucky shouted. He quickly grabbed your hand and tugged you back just as a cyclist zoomed past, barely missing you. 

All too fast, you heard a whiz of air and a shouting of expletives from the cyclist before you were roughly pulled against Bucky’s broad chest. “Shit!” you exclaimed, as you tried to recover your balance. 

“Are you alright?” Bucky asked as he placed his hands on your shoulders to steady you. He looked at you with concern, only now noticing the stunning hue of your eyes. He unconsciously brushed his thumb over your cheekbone, hoping to calm you, or perhaps himself as he took in your beauty.

Your heart raced as you stared into his sparkling blue eyes. And when you took a deep breath to calm yourself, you accidentally inhaled his warm cologne — like sandalwood and vanilla. Wow, did he always smell that good? 

Shaking your head and coming back to your senses, you finally found your voice. “This isn’t Fifty Shades of Grey. Thank you for saving me but I’m not going to gaze longingly into your eyes.” You only hoped that he wouldn’t bring up the fact that you had essentially done that already.

Bucky slowly released the grip he had on you, finally remembering where he was. “You sure? Could be good practice?” he said with a soft smirk on his lips. He was too mesmerized to call you out on that little moment, he was too caught up in you. 

You released a breath, before nodding your head. “I’m sure.” 

“Okay, well then it’s time to go put on a show. Is it alright if I hold your hand, for appearances of course?” Bucky didn’t tell you that he only wanted to make sure that you crossed the street safely. He was feeling unexpectedly protective over you after that adrenaline-inducing moment, and he was grateful when you wordlessly slipped your hand into his. 

As you crossed the street together, Bucky felt a weird sensation in his chest — and that worried him more than he cared to admit. 

Once you arrived in front of the coffee shop’s door, you both shared a knowing look. Plastering a fake smile on your face, you stepped inside as he held the door open for you. “Thank you, boo bear,” you said, looking back with a wink. 

Bucky looked at you in surprise. Oh, so she’s not going to make this easy on me.

┈┈┈┈┈・・

“So you guys really hit it off, huh?” Sam asked curiously as you curled up next to Bucky in the wooden booth. 

Sam’s narrowed eyes showed his disbelief, but Nat appeared smitten and excited for whatever response you were going to give. 

“We did, what can I say?” you said gleefully as you looked into Bucky’s eyes. He tried to contain a smile, but failed miserably. You were too good at this, and he knew he had to put in some work to keep up.

“It was strange,” Bucky chimed in. “It was like I saw her for the first time last night. Suddenly, all of our petty arguments seemed ridiculous.” You looked over at him suspiciously as he spoke all too convincingly. He continued, “She was wearing this burgundy dress that looked so gorgeous on her, and I knew then that I wanted her. And of course, let’s not forget, she’s always challenged me like no other. She makes me want to be a better man. So thanks so much for the set up, Samuel,” he said with a charming smile. 

Nat listened attentively to every word, as Sam sat still, finding it all hard to believe. Bucky and you were practically sworn enemies from almost the moment you crossed paths. Sam knew Bucky’s aversion was because he thought you were an “exasperating wisecrack.” And Nat knew your disdain stemmed from the first rude encounter you had with Bucky, where he told you he thought you were an “annoying know-it-all.”

From those early moments he couldn’t stand you, and you had trouble speaking with him without getting upset. Undoubtedly, it was petty and based off of the most trivial encounter, but it magnified over time. Game nights with the gang only amplified your animosity, which continued to grow through seemingly every interaction you both shared. 

“Yes, thank you Nat. Seeing Bucky all cleaned up last night, looking so handsome, just did something to me. I knew then that I had to have him,” you said, groaning internally as you spoke. 

Sam nodded his head, seemingly convinced. “Well, I’m happy for you both. You guys deserve something good.” The two of you together wasn’t entirely implausible, because despite the surface hostility, he knew you both respected each other. 

“I guess this means game nights are going to look a little different too then, huh?” Nat asked teasingly. 

Bucky looked at you, “Of course, we’re on the same team now. Isn’t that right, baby?” 

“So true, bunny,” you said as you looked into his cerulean eyes. 

Nat spoke up, “I am loving this, so so much! I cannot wait until tomorrow night.” 

“Me too,” Bucky mumbled. 

“Me three,” you said, lying through your teeth. 

┈┈┈┈┈・・

The ride home was uncharacteristically quiet. Neither you nor Bucky had anything to say to each other. You were starting to feel a little weird about the bet, mainly because it wasn’t exceedingly hard to uphold. Playing nice wasn’t nearly as difficult as you imagined it’d be, and that felt strange. It’s not that you loved Bucky’s company, but you didn’t hate it as much as you usually did either. 

Bucky was feeling his own version of unusual, because he too realized that sustaining the bet was too easy. He had been fairly honest, and he realized when he spoke of how beautiful you looked the night before, that he meant every word. Hopefully, things will change at game night. 

He still felt compelled to check on you despite his desire to win. After parking in front of your place, he turned to you. “Are you sure you want to keep doing this? We can come clean before game night because I’m pretty sure we’ve convinced them and made up for their prank.” 

“Is that your way of attempting to quit?” you asked curiously. Sure, you felt odd, but you were still in it to win it. 

Bucky huffed out of breath, “No, I was giving you an out in case this isn’t something you wanted to do anymore. We could call off the bet and have no winner or loser if you want.”

“That kind of defeats the purpose of this whole thing, Bucky,” you said frankly. 

“I… I know.” He shrugged his shoulders, unsure of what he was even trying to say in the first place. “So then, I’ll pick you up at 5 tomorrow?” 

“Sure, and thanks for driving me today, boo bear,” you said as you opened the car door.

He let out a laugh, “Can I put in a request for another pet name?”

“You can, but it might not get approved,” you beamed before shutting the door and leaving him alone with his thoughts. 

And that consisted of the thought of you in his arms, the feel of your hand in his, and the memory of you in that dress. 

Shit.

┈┈┈┈┈・・

The following day, you tried not to dwell on the unusual feelings you had about the night before. They didn’t matter, and you figured Bucky would finally start some drama later on at game night. He was too competitive not to, and that made you excited about what was to come. 

By the time Bucky had come to get you, you were giddy to get the show on the road. You both made casual small talk, and seemed to be in good spirits. The two of you even set boundaries on public displays of affection quite easily, agreeing on everything but kissing. However, your plans were briefly thwarted when Nat texted you, asking if you could pick up some ingredients that she forgot to get from the store. After letting Bucky know, the two of you stopped at the supermarket along the way. 

“What did she say she needed?” Bucky asked as he grabbed a cart. 

“Just a couple of things for her dip. We don’t even need a cart.”

“That’s okay, I like to drive it.” 

“Suit yourself. I just need a few things from the produce section,” you said before heading in that direction. 

“Alright, I’ll meet you there in a minute. I’m going to grab a couple drinks.” 

You nodded, as you made your way to grab the vegetables you needed. As you picked out some celery, you were disappointed to see your recent ex, if you could even call him that, Quentin headed your way. Things abruptly ended early on after you found out that he had a wife. After a crappy first date, and a dramatic second date where his wife stormed in, you realized he was an absolute tool. He still called and texted you afterwards, trying to see if you were willing to look past it but you blocked his number after declining multiple times. 

“Well if it isn’t Y/N. How have you been, sugar?” he asked obnoxiously. 

“Quentin, —.”

Bucky interjected before you could respond. “Hey, doll. Do you remember the whiskey Sam had last weekend? I forgot the brand name,” he said as he stood behind the cart facing you and Quentin. He furrowed his brow as he took in your demeanor — he couldn’t tell what was going on, but he could see that you were bothered. 

“Hey, um I don’t remember.”

“Oh alright, well did you find —.”

Quentin narrowed his eyes as he looked at you, “Who the hell is this, Y/N?” he interrogated. 

Bucky was taken aback, but he finally understood from context that this had to be one of your crappy exes. He chimed in before you had to. “I’m her boyfriend, and I don’t really care who you are,” he said as he crossed his arms over his chest, making himself appear broader. “Ready to go, doll?” he asked, not giving Quentin a second glance. 

Quentin was so shocked by the turn of events that he couldn’t think of a response. 

You nodded your head as you placed the greens in the cart. Bucky reached out for your hand, after you put everything down, which you gladly took. 

“Do you actually need anything else?” he asked as you turned the corner. 

��No, I’ve got it all. And thanks for the assist back there.”

“Any time,” he said as he squeezed your hand. For a moment you forgot that he was still holding it, and by the looks of it, he did too. “Oh um, sorry,” he said, slowly letting go of your hand.  

Bucky knew he shouldn’t, but he wondered if you felt it too, the captivating force that was pulling him to you — a small part of him wished you did. 

“Nothing to be sorry about,” you mumbled as your heart skipped a beat. And you’d be lying if you said you didn’t miss the feel of your fingers intertwined with his. 

“I forgot to ask, do you want me to circle back and kick his ass?” 

You let out a laugh, looking up at him in disbelief. “You’d do that for me?” 

Bucky cracked a smile, “Anything for my sugarplum,” he teased, nudging you gently. You only shook your head and tried to suppress a smile in response. 

And even if his tone was playful, he couldn't help but feel like he meant it. 

┈┈┈┈┈・・

After arriving at Sam and Nat’s you took the opportunity to step away from Bucky. You had a feeling things would get contentious soon enough, and a brief break before that wouldn’t be the worst thing. Heading to the kitchen you dropped off the groceries and caught up with the girls. 

“How have things been with Bucky?” Nat asked suggestively, wiggling her eyebrows. 

“Oh my goodness, is that why you two arrived together?!” Wanda asked excitedly. 

“Nat, it's only been a couple of days, but it’s been great. He’s a good guy.” 

“That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you. I know you guys clashed when you met, but he’s a good person. I’m so glad you’re seeing that now.” 

Wanda chimed in, “Bucky really is the best — so chivalrous and handsome. I’m happy you guys settled your differences, because you make a lovely pair.” 

“Thanks ladies,” you mumbled, taking a good swig of your beer. You were well aware that this was supposed to be a prank — mess with Sam and Nat for setting you up on a bad date, and get a couple months of cleaning out of Bucky. But it didn’t seem like the others were taking it the way you had intended. You weren’t feeling the satisfaction that you thought would come from pranking them, and Bucky was being entirely kind to you. How the hell is this going to work out? 

Before you could worry about that too much, your old friend Thor walked in. 

Excusing yourself from the girls, you walked up to your blonde friend. “Hey, I didn't know you were coming!” you said excitedly. Thor rarely made an appearance at your game nights, but you loved it whenever he did. 

Thor beamed at you, “Hello, Y/N. It’s so good to see you! Are you well?” he asked before pulling you into a bear hug. 

You giggled as he let you go. “I’m good! What’s new with you?”

As Thor caught you up on his daily life, someone else was feeling unsettled at the sight of you standing so close and chatting so happily with him. 

From across the way, Bucky asked Sam and Steve, “Who invited Thor?”

“Oh right, I ran into him a few days ago. I invited him but I didn’t think he’d take up the invite. He’s always a good time though.” Sam paused when he saw Bucky's irritated expression. “Why do you look upset?” he asked. 

Steve let out a laugh, “Because Y/N’s looking awfully chummy with him,” he pointed his beer bottle in your direction. 

Bucky glowered at you laughing at something Thor was saying; your head thrown back as you gripped his large bicep for balance. Thor looked at you with the brightest smile, laughing along to whatever joke you two were sharing. It made Bucky’s chest tighten, and he did not want to think about the reason for that. 

“Oh,” Sam said. He thought your behavior coupled with Bucky’s concern was suspicious, considering you both were apparently together now. “Well, what are you worried about? That’s your girl now,” Sam said to goad Bucky. For the first time that night, Sam started to doubt the legitimacy of your short relationship, and he figured he could push Bucky into revealing something.

Bucky took a deep breath before realizing something himself — this was the perfect opportunity to maintain the ruse and get you to quit first. “That’s right, she is my girl,” he said impishly. “If you’ll excuse me gentleman,” he said before heading towards you. 

You saw Bucky strutting towards you jovially, a bright smile on his face. Those kinds of smiles weren’t usually directed at you, so you knew something was up. Unsure of the reason, but hoping to divert his behavior, you spoke up. “Hey, Buck! What’s up?” you asked behind an obviously saccharine smile.

“Nothing, just came over to see my girl,” he said as he reached out and wrapped his arms around your waist. 

Your eyes widened as Bucky settled behind you, resting his chin on your shoulder as you both faced Thor. 

“I didn’t know you and James were together,” Thor said with a sweet smile and a hint of confusion. 

Bucky lifted his head. “We sure are Thor, this little jellybean is the best thing to ever happen to me,” he said with feigned enthusiasm.  

“Well that’s wonderful, how long have you been together?”

“Three days, three amazing days,” Bucky said as he let out a chuckle.

Thor furrowed his brow, “Well congratulations, to the both of you,” he said before kindly excusing himself to get another drink. 

Once he was gone you turned around to look at the annoyingly affectionate man behind you. 

“What the hell was that?” you challenged. 

“What was what, doll?” Bucky asked with a cheshire grin. 

Your jaw dropped, narrowing your eyes, you grabbed his hand and tugged him outside to the backyard. “So we’re adding sabotage to the mix now, huh?” 

“Sabotage, what do you mean? Like your chances with Thor? Well I just thought he ought to know your relationship status. Plus, Sam and Steve were starting to get concerned, what with you flirting so openly with another man when you’re supposed to be with me.”

“So what if he was flirting with me? We’ve told them that I’m with you.” 

Bucky eyes widened, taken aback. “You knew?”

“Thor’s a flirt, who cares?” 

“I do, you’re my girlfriend.”

You shook your head, “You know you’re starting to sound like a jealous boyfriend.”

“Then I’m playing the part right,” he shrugged.

You scoffed at his indifference, “Is that what it’d be like? Dating you?”

“Why, are you asking because you’re considering it?” he asked with a smirk. 

“No, Bucky. I just want to properly warn the next girl that stupidly falls for those pretty blue eyes.” 

“Did you just say that you like my eyes?” he asked gleefully. 

“Ugh,” you scoffed before kindly shoving him out of the way and heading back inside. 

He smiled to himself, satisfied that he got the better of that exchange. 

Watching through the glass door, he saw you walk into the kitchen and pour yourself a drink. You looked frustrated with him, and normally that would make him quite happy, but today Bucky felt a touch of guilt in his smug satisfaction. He didn’t want you to actually be upset with him. Lately, when it came to you though, the more time he spent in your presence, the more confused he became. 

The only thing he knew was certain from that interaction was that you were right. He didn’t like seeing you with Thor, and come to think of it, he didn’t like seeing you with that guy at the store either. It made him feel that tightness in his chest that was now becoming common when it came to you. 

After you threw back your drink and headed to the restroom to freshen up, you finally had a moment to yourself. As you thought about the events of your typical game night, you started to think about Bucky’s present ridiculousness. By now you’d be at each other’s throats for some type of game disagreement, not because of something like this. 

It was true, you enjoyed Thor’s company, and his flirty nature was fun for you too. However, you didn’t think you’d like the way it felt to be wrapped up in Bucky’s arms more — but you really did. The way it felt to be held against that wall of hard muscle, the heat permeating off his body, it just felt so good. 

This was supposed to be fake, and perhaps there was more beneath the surface, but you knew you shouldn’t think about that. It was too great a risk to take, especially with the bet still in place. You couldn’t give that smug bastard the satisfaction of a win. 

After returning to the living room, you observed the girls finishing up a game of Uno. 

“Hey, charades is starting up in five. You and Bucky are on different teams. Since you both are friendly with one another, I’m sure it shouldn’t be a problem!” Nat said excitedly. 

Oh thank goodness. Finally, competitive Bucky can come out and ruin the day. 

┈┈┈┈┈・・

Bucky was excited to play against you, because he knew you were just as competitive as him. He too was ready to finish this bet. Every time you both stepped up to grab the slip of paper with the phrases on it, you could feel the tension. And he brought his A-game, beating you out on the hardest phrases. Somehow he was able to act out building a sandcastle with ease, and he made sure to give you a cocky wink after getting that done. When you were both up again, you were able to convey shoveling snow faster than him, and you loved seeing how frustrated that made him. 

Bucky had Steve on his team, which was an unfair advantage because it oftentimes felt like they shared the same brain. But you were grateful to have Wanda on your team because it almost felt like she could read your mind, which definitely helped rack up some points. 

As the game neared its end, both teams found themselves in a tie. It was down to you and Bucky to break it. After you both read “waterfall” you got to pantomiming the best that you possibly could. 

Ultimately, you were able to break up the word and make it recognizable for Sam, thus sealing your victory. You made sure to stick out your tongue at Bucky as you basked in your win. He only shook his head before heading out the back door. There’s the hot head that I know. 

You decided you’d follow him after a minute to see if you could push his buttons, and maybe win your bet too. But you didn’t expect to see him in such good spirits when you stepped onto the patio. 

“Hey, doll,” he said with a soft smile. “Congratulations on the win, I really thought I had you there.” 

“Here I was coming to gloat, and you’re being… nice. What gives?” 

Bucky shrugged, exhaling a heavy breath. “You know I don’t hate you, right?” 

“You told me off the day we met, Bucky. You don’t like me.” 

“I was drunk, which isn’t an excuse, but I only told you that you were a know-it-all. Did you ever ask yourself why I might've said that? 

You furrowed your brows. “No?” you asked quietly.

He took a deep breath. “I was being stupid and childish. I was the best at trivia, and then you came into my friend group, knowing more than me about American history — that was my thing. And it wasn’t just that, your team won the entire trivia match because of you alone. So I said something dumb when I shouldn’t have, because I was intimidated,” he said sheepishly. 

“Trivia, Bucky? Are you insane?” you asked in disbelief. That had to be the dumbest reason to start a bitter rivalry with a person. 

“We just clashed, we didn’t get along. And I guess I never did anything to fix that.” 

“You know, I studied up on those categories because I wanted to make a good impression on the new group of people Nat was introducing me to. I didn’t want to ruffle feathers, I only wanted to be accepted. But before the night ended you made sure I knew that I definitely was not.”

“I misjudged you, and I annoyed you when I should’ve seen you for the exceptional person you are. I should’ve been kinder, and I’m sorry.”

You eyed him suspiciously. “I don’t get it. Why are you saying this now?” 

“Because something’s changed, and I needed you to know that I —.”

“Hey lovebirds! Sharon convinced Nat to fire up the karaoke machine. You in or you in?” Sam asked excitedly, oblivious to the moment you were sharing. 

“Um,” you looked at Bucky. 

“We’re in,” he said. This was far too heavy a conversation for tonight, and he had already said what he wanted to. 

He gave you a shy smile before following Sam inside. 

You wished you could finish the conversation you were having. With the way Bucky was acting you felt like the bet would truly never end, and it scared you that you didn’t mind as much as you thought you would.

Now that you understood where he was coming from, as irrational as it was, it was hard to hate him. In his tipsy state he spouted out a statement borne of jealousy, which felt a little less harmful than what you had been thinking all this time. Still, you figured you could think about it all later. 

It was karaoke time now. 

┈┈┈┈┈・・

After watching Steve belt out “Brown Eyed Girl'' by Van Morrison, then seeing Sam follow it up with “Don’t Stop Believing” by Journey, you started to feel a bit overwhelmed. Nat asked if you were feeling alright, and you weren’t sure how to answer that. You couldn’t fully pinpoint what was going on with you. 

Opting to avoid revealing anything that would lead you to lose the bet, you told her that you weren’t feeling well and that you were going to call it a night. Fortunately, Thor was heading out early too, so you left with him while Bucky dueted with Sam. 

Immediate relief washed over you once you were back home. Finally, you were alone and able to process your thoughts on your own. 

Things were getting weird with Bucky. Your friends were all too accepting of you two getting together, and even you were starting to get too comfortable with it. As silly as it was, you thought back to how you felt in his arms, when he pulled you out of harm's way. The way he looked at you, like he was seeing you for the first time — it was all too hard to forget. 

The man that you couldn’t stand a few days prior, now made you feel safe and somehow cared for? You pondered how that could be and gave yourself a headache thinking about it. Bucky went out of his way to apologize, when you were happy to dislike him for the rest of his days. 

Even though his rationale for being mean in the beginning was ridiculous, you realized neither of you did anything to stop it from spiraling out. And not only that, but he went on to tell you something had changed, making you even more confused. Did he feel something for you, like how you might feel for him too?

Deciding to forget about the whole thing, you lit a couple cozy vanilla candles and set up a warm bath for yourself. After soaking and relaxing your mind, you came to a decision. 

You were going to call off the bet. 

It had become pointless. Bucky treated you differently, and you couldn’t see how this would end in him surrendering. He was seemingly unbothered by the situation, so you had to be the one to put an end to it. You could always hire a housekeeping service or something to clean his place for him, the terms were never that detailed anyways.

As you slipped into your favorite pajamas, you felt content with your decision. Your life was going to go back to normal and an added bonus was that Bucky would no longer be your enemy — things were looking up. 

Just as you sat down with a cup of tea, your phone buzzed in your lap.

Bucky: Can I come over? Unless you’re with him. 

Huh? Maybe he was drunk texting you from Sam’s place. You decided not to text him back until the morning since it was already late. 

Bucky: I’m outside, if you’re awake. 

What the hell? You got up and opened the door, surprised to see him waiting on the other side. 

“He’s not here is he?” he grumbled. 

“Who?” 

“The one that would be more than happy to give you a ride.” 

“Of course, Thor’s not here,” you stepped aside to let him in from the cold. 

Bucky breathed a sigh of relief. “Good, that’s good,” he muttered as you shut the door. 

“You really came all the way over here to make sure I wasn’t with Thor? Are you serious?” you asked in disbelief. 

“No, well, you left without a word and I had to make sure you were okay, and tell you —."

You cut him off before he could continue. “Look, I don't want to do this —.”

“I’m calling it. I don’t want to do this bet anymore,” he blurted out at the same time.

“You’re… we’re both quitting?”

His eyes widened as he processed your question. “Looks that way.”

“Okay. So neither of us wins and gets a housekeeper… I guess that’s fair,” you said.  

“I think so,” he nodded. “Okay well, I’ll let you go then,” he said before moving to leave. 

Placing a hand on his chest, “Bucky, why couldn’t this wait until tomorrow?”

He exhaled a deep breath, looking down at your hand. He wanted to confess that he came because he saw red when Nat told him you left with Thor, and that his heart wouldn't know peace until he saw you. He needed you to know that you had consumed his thoughts the last few days and he needed to release the pressure of the bet because he was overwhelmed by his emotions. 

Instead he asked, “Did you feel it too?” 

“What do you mean?” you asked timidly. 

Clasping his large hand over yours, he looked up into your eyes. “I think you know.”

“I don’t know what you mean,” you breathed out. Thinking back to all the instances in the last couple of days that made your heart race, of course you knew what he was referring to. But it wasn’t made to work, not with all the rough history between you two. 

His azure eyes bore into yours, as words were not necessary to express what laid under the surface. “Alright then,” he nodded before giving you a tight smile and dropping your hand to leave again. 

“That’s it? You’re not going to elaborate or anything?” you breathed out, before you could bite your tongue. 

Before you knew it, he was invading your space, slowly pushing you up against the door behind you with his hands on your waist. “I asked you a question, and you don’t want to answer honestly.” His lips were a mere inches from yours as he gazed into your eyes. 

“It was a vague question,” you whispered, your eyes falling to his soft pink lips. 

Bucky grabbed the back of your neck and pulled your lips to his — intentional and packed with everything he was too afraid to say. You reciprocated immediately; your confusion and doubt finally made sense. What you wanted, no, needed, was him. 

You gave into him completely, letting him take control of the filthy kiss. It was all tongue, teeth, and wanton desire. His rough hand dug into your hips as he pulled you towards him, melding you to his firm body. Your hands found their way into his hair, and you tugged his brown locks, earning a deep groan from his throat. 

Bucky didn’t want to let go of the feel of your lips on his, so he dragged out the moment until you were both too breathless to carry on. As he pulled away and released the hold he had on you, you reluctantly untangled your fingers from his hair and peered up at him; his eyes dark with kiss-swollen lips. 

“You knew what I meant,” he whispered, his thumb brushing against your bottom lip.

You nodded your head. 

Bucky smiled softly, one of his hands coming up to cradle your face. He couldn’t help it — his feelings were reciprocated and you were too gorgeous so he pulled you back for a wild, warm kiss. 

“You’re mine now, understand?” he muttered against your lips. 

You narrowed your eyes at him. “We’ll discuss that later,” you said defiantly, a smirk playing on your lips. 

A lazy grin tugged at his lips, “You are the most frustrating woman in the world.” 

You rolled your eyes, “And you are the most infuriating man I have ever known.”

“Yet for some reason, you like me, doll,” he goaded. 

“Shut up,” you muttered.  

His eyes widened, a twinkle of mischief glistening in his gaze, “Make me.”

He was about to tease you some more, but then you sucked his bottom lip between yours and he decided it wasn’t worth it; he’d gladly lose every little disagreement if you kept kissing him like that.

Bucky’s hand snaked its way to the back of your head as he savored the kiss, his tongue gliding along yours. 

Reaching up, you tugged at his hair to tilt his head for an even deeper kiss, pouring everything you felt into the searing kiss. 

Bucky’s hips grinded with yours, hands moving down to squeeze your ass as he kissed you fervently. You couldn’t help but moan at the delicious friction. His brain short-circuited, the sound sobering and disillusioning him at the same time. 

“I’m… fuck, I’ll stop.” He pulled away to look into your eyes, his hands doing nothing to release you from his hold. “I’m sorry, I don’t want to take advantage —.”

“You’re not, we can slow down if you want though,” you said before kissing him softly. 

He pulled away to smile at you. “I don’t want that. I want you.”

Oh.

You pushed his chest, successfully getting him to back up and away from you. He raised his eyebrows in surprise. You knew he was letting you shove him around, and that in reality he only moved because you directed him to. 

“Come and get me then,” you said before making a break for your bedroom. 

Bucky let out a laugh before chasing after you, and right as you were about to hop onto your bed, his arms wrapped around your stomach, jerking you back towards him. You squealed in surprise as he pressed your back up against his hard beefy body. 

He moved you so that you were facing your tall mirror and the sight of him wrapped around you made your heart pound like a drum in your chest. Engulfed in his warm scent, captured in his strong arms, your head felt dizzy with desire. 

“Now that I’ve caught you, what am I going to do with you?” he rasped, as his hand slid down your torso, toying with the hem of your shorts. You bucked against him, as his hand ghosted over your clothed core. 

“Please, Bucky. Whatever you want.” 

“Anything?” Bucky asked as he deftly untied your shorts, allowing them to fall in a pool at your feet. 

“Mhm,” you mumbled as you watched his fingers dip beneath your panties, trailing his fingers through your soaked folds. “Bucky,” you whimpered, as his thumb pressed into your clit, his fingers prodding at your entrance.

“Yes, doll?” he asked, slipping two fingers into your tight hole, pumping slowly. 

You were rendered speechless, trying to stifle your moans as you writhed against him. 

“So gorgeous,” Bucky groaned, taking in your pleasured expression in the mirror. He curled his fingers and you keened as he gently caressed that spot that made you shudder. 

Reaching down to his hand around your midsection, you guided it up to your body as you rucked up your shirt. Understanding your intention, Bucky pulled your top off before cupping your breast with his large warm palm, squeezing and kneading you roughly. You gasped, arching into him and he picked up the pace, strumming your clit with his thumb. You leaned your head back against his chest as he touched you, moaning as he eased in and out of you in a perfect rhythm. Incapable of controlling your hips, you grinded down on his hand erratically.

“Fuck,” Bucky breathed out, “Look at you.” You were falling apart before his eyes, and he couldn't look away. 

You whined desperately, clutching his forearm as that familiar coil tightened in your belly, “Fuck, I’m —.”

“Go ahead, doll,” he groaned in your ear. 

You whimpered as your walls fluttered around his fingers. Your vision going white as pleasure coursed through your body. 

If it weren’t for Bucky’s arm wrapped around you, you were certain you’d collapse. As your breathing slowed and sight cleared, you got a good look at him in the mirror — you watched as he brought his soaked fingers from your pussy to his mouth, licking them clean. 

Fuck.

Reaching behind you, you palmed his hard erection, earning a deep groan from his lips. Keeping his hold on you, he buried his face in your neck, sucking at your pulse point as he rutted against your hand. 

“I need you so bad,” he muttered as he kissed along your jawline. “Are you ready for what comes next?” 

You weren’t sure if he meant what you’d do in the bedroom or what would happen once you crossed the next line, but you nodded your head eagerly because it didn’t matter — you were ready for it all with him. 

He kissed your temple before finally releasing the hold he had on your body. “Undress me.” 

“Yes sir,” you whispered, turning around and eagerly unbuckling his belt, tugging off his pants and dragging down his boxers. Your mouth watered as you finally got a look at his impressive length. You should’ve known, the man was a giant, it only made sense that he’d be well-endowed too. 

Bucky’s jaw went slack as he looked at you, wide-eyed and gazing at him with fire in your eyes. He pulled his shirt off himself because he could see your attention was elsewhere.  

You marveled at the gorgeous unclad man, and you started to slowly pump his hard cock, unable to keep your hands off of him. You were about to fall to your knees when he lifted your chin to look into your eyes. 

“I need something else more, doll.”

You looked at him quizzically, until he scooped you up and headed towards the bed. You giggled as his knees hit the edge of the bed and the two of you fell sideways onto your duvet. He let out a laugh as you sidled up next to him, hooking your leg over his own, as you peppered his neck with kisses. Bucky’s hand skimmed over your back, gliding his fingers along your spine until they settled around your waist. Your hand found his hard length, and you stroked him slowly, earning a deep groan from his chest. 

“Fuck, baby,” he moaned. 

He kissed you softly before pulling back to look in your eyes. His hand halted your movements, making you release him. You were about to protest but then he gripped the back of your knee, and rolled you onto your back, so that he was hovering over your wet heat. Bucky met your gaze, looking for any unease, only to find you nodding and biting your lip in anticipation. 

He let out a chuckle at your expression before coating himself with your slick and lining himself up. Your fingers tangled in his hair as he slowly sunk into you, gasping at the feel of him stretching you out completely. Bucky leaned in and kissed you, his tongue swirling around yours as he gave you a moment to adjust. 

You had never felt so full before, but you knew that you could get used to the feeling. Wrapping your legs around the small of his back tightly, you urged him to move. Bucky sucked your bottom lip before easing back and thrusting into you hard. He watched as your eyes squeezed shut and mouth fell agape, as he sank in and out of you. 

He relished the way you clenched around him, your breathing coming out shallow as he took what he wanted. His lips found your neck when he felt your walls squeezing even tighter, “Such a good girl, and she’s all mine now, huh?” he mumbled against your skin.

“Mmm.” 

“Use your words, doll,” he groaned as he suddenly slowed his movements. “Wanna hear you say it.” 

Your eyes snapped open as the peak you were so close to hitting started to slowly fizzle away. Bucky had a self righteous smirk on his face, like he knew he had you. He wasn’t going to give you what you wanted until you answered his question. 

“Bucky,” you whined in protest, trying to urge him to move faster with your hips. 

He halted his movements as he gazed deeply into your eyes, “You’re not getting out of this one, doll,” he smiled before nipping at your bottom lip.

“Later,” you pleaded. 

He swiftly pulled out of you, and manhandled you so that you were facing away from him while sitting in his lap. 

Your eyes flickered to his gaze in the mirror. “Do what you want then,” he muttered as he placed a pillow behind his back. 

You couldn’t help but think that Bucky was practically telling you to fuck yourself, but you didn’t care. You placed your hands on his thick thighs and tucked your legs up so that you were straddling him in reverse. The position had you spread open on your knees as you hovered over his lap. 

Bucky grasped the sides of your hips so that balance would not be an issue, allowing you to comfortably rock against him. The sight in the mirror made you even wetter, if that was possible — his brawny body taking up your bed, with his hands holding you tightly as you moved against his thick, perfect cock. 

You lined his length up with your entrance, and slowly sank down, releasing a shuddering breath as you went. The stretch ached in the most satisfying way, and you liked the control the position gave you. 

Your lips parted with a breathy moan as you started to move, bouncing up and down. Finding the right rhythm was easy as Bucky supported you and let you grind against him until you found what felt good. 

Bucky hissed beneath you, “Fuck, feel s’perfect.” He filled you up perfectly, like he was made for you. 

“Look at yourself, doll.” He grabbed the back of your neck, coaxing you to look at yourself in the mirror. “Watch how well you take my cock.”

You cupped your breasts as you saw your reflection, and then you understood why he insisted on making you see. The way you moved against him, the way your bodies melded together, it was all so beautiful. As you continued to appreciate the sight, Bucky sat up, so you could lean back against him.

He kissed along your shoulders, up to your neck as you took what you needed from him. “Don’t you see it?” 

And you finally realized, you did; you were perfect for one another, physically and literally. The thing that everyone saw, and you both were too afraid to admit, was that you were so damn similar. Both fiery, passionate, and a little crazy — you didn’t clash because you were different, you clashed because you were the same. 

You wrapped your hands around his, as he sucked a hickey into your neck. “Yes,” you breathed. 

“You belong with me.” 

“I do,” you moaned as the coil tightened in your belly. 

Before your brain could comprehend what was happening, he twisted you both onto your side and started thrusting into you from behind. “Good, now come with me,” he groaned. You arched your back, giving him better access as he pounded into you. His thumb found your swollen clit, rubbing rough deliberate circles, making you clench around him even more.

Your breath hitched in your throat as the sudden increase in pace and added pressure finally pushed you over the edge of bliss; your body tensing and mind blanking as your walls spasmed around him. “Fuck, fill me up please,” you cried out. 

His thrusts grew erratic as he buried himself as deep as he could go, hips driving into you with more force until he was spilling himself inside your core with your name on his lips. 

With one last squeeze on your hips, he carefully withdrew himself from you and rolled over on the bed next to you. You both laid there, panting as your breathing slowly regulated. 

After taking a solid moment you lazily turned towards him and reached up to play with his hair. 

Bucky turned towards you slowly, a lopsided grin on his face. His eyes were closed as he reveled in the way you touched him. 

“That was…” you said, barely above a whisper. Hot as fuck, ridiculously good, indescribable.

“Yeah,” he nodded, knowing exactly what you meant. “I wasn’t too rough was I?” he asked gently, finally coaxing his eyes open to look at you adoringly. 

You shook your head, “I liked it,” you murmured. 

Bucky grinned, grabbing your hand in his hair and bringing it to his lips, “And to think all the times we were bickering, we could’ve been doing this.” 

“Maybe we should take the weekend to make up for lost time,” you said teasingly. 

Bucky rolled you over, and pinned your hands above your head before you could blink. His lips hovered over yours as he caged you in. “I’ll need more than a weekend for that, doll.” 

You stretched up and pecked his lips before laying back and looking into his gorgeous blue eyes. “I think that can be arranged. After all, I am yours now, boo bear.”

He let out a laugh, “And don’t you forget it,” he beamed, leaning down to press his lips to yours.

Bucky would learn to deal with your silly nicknames, and your sass, and anything else you threw at him. Because now that you’d crossed the line, there was no going back — and he wouldn’t have it any other way. 

[daswarschonkaputt]

Oooooh so many choices. And I'm torn between asking about mpreg kinnporsche and teenage Porsche! I mean, we don't want you tire yourself out but if you're up to a little titbit... Either?

okay well i have some good news, there is already mpreg kinnporsche content floating around on my blog. the not!fic is here, and i posted a snippet here a bit ago.

teenage porsche... okay so i started this not!fic when i was working on sheets chapter... probably six? i think. and then i got sick, and had to pivot to focus on finishing the fic, so the not!fic just sort of fell to the wayside. i do want to finish it, eventually.

essentially, there was a line in between the sheets about porsche at seventeen -- which was something like this:

Porsche isn’t without sympathy. In the grand scheme of things, Porsche generally wouldn’t pit a seventeen year-old orphan armed with cookware against an experienced bodyguard carrying a top-of-the-line fire arm—with the exception of himself, at seventeen. As a teenager, he’d been – as Yok once said – feral. Porsche maybe wouldn’t have been able to take down Pete, back then, but he’d have probably left the man with one less eye, and maybe a few missing fingers.

and this prompted my readers to tell me they'd pay good money to read feral 17 y/o porsche and 20 y/o kinn ruining each other. and i was like. damn. that's a good idea.

so: feral, angry-at-the-world teenage porsche thrown headfirst at deeply unhappy just-post-tawan kinn. that's the fic's idea.

i'll give you a snippet of the not!fic, but exercise caution. content warning for implied/referenced underage prostitution (no underage sex takes place). let me put it this way: reading this, the group chat complimented me on the knives. so. take that as you will.

the premise:

Porsche is 17 and angry at the world. It’s been about five and a half years since his parents died in a car accident, and the grief has had just enough time to stew into a futile kind of adolescent rage. The world is cruel and unfair, and Porsche is furious at it.

Porsche works two jobs – three, if you count competitive taekwondo, which you probably should – and attends school full-time, when he bothers to show up. His attendance is shit, his grades are barely acceptable, and he’s literally always broke. On top of that, about 80% of his spare energy on any given day has to go to persuading his little brother (Chay, 11) that absolutely nothing is wrong. His stress levels are through the fucking atmosphere.

Porsche attends a fancy private school on an athletics scholarship – which he really wouldn’t bother with, if not for the fact that his scholarship means that Chay also gets to go to school for free, in the attached junior school to his high school. Porsche has a quiet side hustle where he steals shit off his wealthy classmates and gives it to Uncle Thee to sell.

He has no friends, no support system, and the only person he talks with semi-regularly is his taekwondo coach, who thinks he’s cocky and lacking drive.

Recently, Porsche has taken to sneaking out of the house to take part in underground fighting matches. If he’s honest with himself, it has less to do with the money – which is… not bad, but honestly, not the best – than it does with giving Porsche an excuse to hit something until it just—stops. Porsche is scrappy – the kind of fighter who always gets back up, when you knock them down.

It’s the aftermath of one of these matches, when Porsche is staggering through the streets of Bangkok. He’s beat to shit, frankly – his ribs are definitely bruised, if not broken. His kidneys are aching in the way that means he’s going to be pissing blood for a week, or so. He’s just having an altogether bad time.

Porsche is heading for Yok’s bar – well aware that he can’t show up in need of medical help at home. Porsche doesn’t know Yok all that well, at this point, but she has an open door policy for him after she found him passed out on a bench outside her bar, once, and brought him in and patched him up. Yok’s the closest thing Porsche has to an adult he can count on, and he doesn’t even know her that well.

He takes a break on his trek to smoke a cigarette on a street corner – and that’s when he meets Kinn.

This is Kinn. 20 years old, university student, mafia heir. He’s fresh off the Tawan betrayal – cynical about love, cynical about people, and even a little cynical about his family. He’s floundering, and he’s in pain – he’s looking for whatever he can to erase it. Alcohol, sex, oblivion. He’s reckless with his security, because he doesn’t know if he wants them to keep him alive. Miserable and self-destructive. He’s wearing a silk shirt, unbuttoned to the navel, and he stumbles out of a nightclub door, to the sight of Porsche. Porsche is—well, he’s pretty. He wears seventeen with none of the awkwardness his peers do – Kinn looks at him, and he wants.

the meet not-at-all-cute:

Kinn: How much?

Porsche turns and looks at this rich asshole who’s just stumbled dead-drunk out of a nearby nightclub, who’s mistaken him for a whore and his immediate thought is, “Fuck this guy in particular.”

Kinn: Ten thousand?

Porsche gives him a withering look. Kinn misreads this.

Kinn: Fifty thousand?

Porsche puts out his cigarette, ready to fuck off.

Kinn: A hundred thousand?

Porsche pauses. And it’s—it’s awful, but here’s the thing: a hundred thousand baht is… That’s a years’ wages for Porsche and then some. With that much money, Porsche could probably even quit one of his jobs, maybe spend a bit more time with Chay.

It’s kind of shitty, to realise that you have a price. Porsche turns around at Kinn – this rich asshole, blind drunk, throwing around a hundred thousand baht on what he thinks is a street whore – and he thinks, Well.

Porsche: 150.

Kinn agrees. Porsche makes a little beckoning gesture, like, Hand over the cash, and Kinn’s like, “I’m going to have to go to an ATM first.”

You know what’s awkward? Standing next to the guy who’s bought you, as he withdraws the cash to pay you. Porsche rocks on his heels, asking himself, Am I really doing this?

Kinn has the money, and hands it over to Porsche. Porsche takes it, counts it, and does his best to pretend like this isn’t the most money he’s ever handled in his entire life. He puts it into his back pocket. Kinn looks at him like, Well? And Porsche is like, Yeah I’m going to pretend like I do this all the time.

He leads Kinn into an alleyway, and then Kinn kisses him. Porsche lets him, and then he drives his knee straight up into Kinn’s groin. Kinn makes a noise like he’s been shot, curling over in agony, taken completely off-guard. Porsche goes to run, with the cash, not expecting Kinn to get his feet under him and fight back.

It’s—brutal. Kinn is drunk, but also incredibly well-trained. By comparison, Porsche is sober, injured, and fucking feral. He comes out on top, but barely. He manages to knock Kinn out, and just stands there, breathing.

He looks down at Kinn on the ground and thinks, You know what? This fucker deserves this. And then he steals his watch, too.

after:

He manages to make it to Yok’s before the adrenaline wears off, but the weight of the 150,000 baht in his pocket is heavy, and he doesn’t go inside to ask for medical attention. Instead, he calls a taxi, and goes home to Chay and his uncle. Porsche gives his uncle the watch to sell, but doesn’t tell him about the cash, which he hides under a floorboard in his room.

Getting up the next morning is—weird. He feels like shit, but when he goes to check his hidey-hole, the money’s still there. His happiness is ruined when his brother comes into his room without knocking, and sees the awful bruising on his torso. Chay makes Porsche promise to go to the school nurse about it, and is generally just very fussy and worried about it all. Porsche capitulates easily.

Porsche spends the entire time at school waiting for the other shoe to drop. But it just—doesn’t. He gets home, the money’s still there. For the first time in nearly two years, he feels like he can breathe.

A week passes. Porsche begins to spend the money. He’s not profligate with it, or anything – but he buys a few things he might have put off. New shoes for Chay. Take-out for dinner one night. He gets on top of their bills and debts. Quits one of his jobs.

And then at school he’s called in to the headmaster’s office.

Headmaster is meeting with a fancy-pants donor who’s supposedly going to pay for a new scholarship at the school – and wants to meet the school’s most famous scholar, the national taekwondo champion. Mr Headmaster is basically tripping over himself to be nice to the donor – who turns around and smiles at Porsche.

It’s Kinn.

let the ruining commence:

This is so patently a power play that Porsche is almost pissed off about it – and the worst thing is that it still works, because Porsche is fucked. If Kinn tells the headmaster that Porsche scammed him out of a hundred grand, beat him up, and stole his watch – Porsche will lose his scholarship. Kinn is smug – he knows this.

Kinn executes a light bit of conversational manipulation to get the headmaster to leave him and Porsche alone. With the witness gone, the gloves come off.

Kinn: I have to say, I admire your bravery, if nothing else. It takes a particular kind of nerve to steal from me.

Porsche: I didn’t steal shit.

Kinn: [straightens his cuffs, just enough to draw attention to his watch, the one Porsche lifted off his unconscious body] What would you call the 150,000 baht of my money you ran off with, then?

Porsche: You gave that money to me.

Kinn: I gave you that money in exchange for a service to be rendered. That service did not include beating me unconscious and leaving me in an alleyway. I think we could make a case for breach of contract, at the very least.

Porsche: I didn’t sign shit, and I don’t owe you anything.

Porsche goes to leave, but Kinn catches his arm. Porsche throws off his touch.

Kinn: My money, Porsche.

Porsche: What about it?

Kinn: I’d like it back.

Porsche: I don’t have it anymore. [He goes to leave. Once again, Kinn stops him.]

Kinn: Then we have a problem.

Porsche: The only problem we’ll have is if you keep putting your hands where they don’t belong.

Kinn: The implicit contract was as follows: the money, in exchange for sex. As you have failed to uphold your end of the bargain, I’m going to have to ask for the return of the payment.

Porsche: I already told you, I don’t have the money anymore.

Kinn: Even gutter trash like you would struggle to spend 150,000 baht in one week. Return what you have.

Porsche: [Yeah, you know what? Fuck him.] I know your type – rich assholes who’ve never had to work a day in their life. Does your daddy know you spend his money on teenage rent boys?

Kinn: Is this a blackmail attempt?

The bastard sounds amused.

Porsche: Sure.

Kinn: Go ahead. Tell my father all about my twisted little proclivities. I think he’d be more appalled that I spent 150,000 baht on a mouthy little shit like you than the nature of my deviancy. [He steps aside from blocking the door.] My money, Porsche. You have 24 hours.

Porsche: Don’t call me, I’ll call you?

Kinn: Don’t get cute. [Hands Porsche a business card.] Call this number when you have the money. Someone will be by to pick it up.

Well, that’s Porsche’s day ruined.

Porsche thinks it over, and realises it’s probably just easiest to give Kinn back the 120,000 baht he still has from the affair. He goes back home and checks his hiding place, only to find it empty.

At first, he’s furious – he thinks that Kinn set all this up as some sort of twisted mind game. And then Uncle Thee comes shuffling in, surprised to see Porsche back from school so early. Porsche has this moment of hope.

Kinn had his watch back – which means that Arthee doesn’t have it. Did he manage to sell it? And Uncle Thee—hesitates. At which point, Porsche realises that Thee did manage to sell the watch, but something happened to the money. Which is that Thee gambled it away. He’d been trying to get a return on investment – but had lost big. He’d taken Porsche’s little money stash to the casino today to try and win back the money, but had lost that, as well.

Porsche stares at his uncle, and despairs. He’s—so completely devastated, and not even fucking surprised, that it wraps right back around to anger. He goes for Thee’s throat, throttling him, demanding to know what the fuck he was thinking—

At which point Chay gets home from school and pulls Porsche off their uncle. Chay’s mad at Porsche, without any of the context for why all this is happening, which makes Porsche even more upset. He storms out of the house, without thinking about where he’s going.

His feet take him to Yok’s bar, where Yok is accepting a delivery of alcohol. She sees him stood there, in his school uniform, after having trekked across Bangkok, and wordlessly takes him inside.

The entire story is too humiliating to tell Yok, so he lets out bits and pieces – that he owes someone a lot of money, that he had the money to pay them, and his uncle spent it all. He hands over the business card, which Yok inspects.

Bank, one of Yok’s bartenders, peeks at the card, and is like, “This is his card? This is really his card. Porsche, you’re fucked.” Cue a bit of background information about Kinn Anakinn Theerapanyakul – and the extent of his family’s power. Bank is highkey amazed – how on earth did Porsche get tangled up with the mafia?

Yok’s immediate thought is that she can lend him the money. She asks how much it is, tells him he can work off the debt to her by washing glasses in her bar. But Porsche knows that 150,000 baht is too much for Yok – she doesn’t have that kind of money just lying around. He turns her down, tells her he can figure something out. Yok is hesitant, but Porsche is insistent.

the knives get worse:

Porsche leaves Yok’s bar, and calls the number on the card. He says he wants to talk about the debt in person.

Kinn sends a fancy car to pick him up. It’s driven by men in dark suits, who all look at Porsche like he’s gum they scraped off their shoe. Porsche gets in the car, and lets them take him to Kinn.

He’s taken to a fancy skyscraper in the centre of Bangkok. It’s all very grand, and Porsche feels like the worst kind of fraud, in his school uniform and ratty converse. He tries to pretend like the décor doesn’t get to him. He mostly succeeds.

Kinn is waiting for him in a fancy office. It has floor to ceiling windows and a light fitting that could be described as a chandelier. He looks up and down at Porsche.

Kinn: So, do you have something for me?

Porsche: [looks at the security detail] I’m not talking about this with them in the room.

Kinn: [pauses, considers] Big, leave.

Big: Khun Kinn—

Kinn: If he disables me, I’m sure you’ll catch him on the way out. Leave.

[They leave.]

Porsche: [clenches fists] You gave me the money for services to be rendered, right?

Kinn: I did.

Porsche: So if I rendered those services, I wouldn’t have to return it to you?

Kinn: [Eyebrows rise.] 150,000 baht in less than a week – quite the spending habit. What’s your poison? Drugs? Sex? Gambling?

Porsche flinches.

Kinn: Gambling. I see. But not you. The only risks you take are with your safety. A relative, then – probably not the baby brother. Your uncle?

Porsche: Do you want to fuck me or not?

Kinn: [Looks at Porsche.] I like my partners to enjoy themselves. I’m not convinced you would.

Porsche: [Clenches fists.] I can make nice. I can even moan your name, if you want me to.

Kinn: The last time I tried to fuck you, I ended up unconscious in an alleyway, missing my watch. I rarely make the same mistake twice. We’ll come up with an alternate repayment plan. [Calls out.] Big!

Big enters the room again.

Kinn: Take Porsche to Chan. Tell him to make him useful.

Porsche: I’m not going anywhere unless you tell me what’s going on.

Kinn: You sold me your body. Don’t get mad because I have other uses for it.

This statement makes Porsche think that Kinn is—pimping him out to whoever this Chan guy is, which is an awful realisation to have. Porsche considers running, before he spots the gun holster on every bodyguard around him. He’s fucked. He’s so very fucked.

Only—Chan doesn’t want to fuck him. In fact, Chan looks kind of pissed off about Porsche’s entire existence. Chan’s an older guy – middle-aged, but handsome – and he’s wearing the same suits and firearms routine as all the other bodyguards. He has Porsche fight against someone, and Porsche demonstrates that he’s scrappy, skilled, and absolutely impossible to keep down. Once Porsche has knocked the other guy down, Chan just sort of stands there, pinching his nose, like, Fantastic. Wonderful. Just what I want.

Chan then takes him to some sort of office? And has Porsche read and sign a contract – which is, to Porsche’s immediate relief, for a position as a part-time bodyguard. Then Chan drives him home.

Porsche started off the evening thinking he was going to lose his virginity to some rich asshole he scammed out of 150k baht. He’s ended it as a bodyguard working for the mafia. If he weren’t so fucking exhausted, he’d probably be more upset.

i have more, but i have to hold something back, you guys :P

[lilac-5ky]

ah, ah, ah I wanna cheat XD so Kid Gintoki that's always bullying the reader 'cuz he find her cute when she's crying (Even though he always deny it) but later on he realize that he likes her\( ^3^)/

A/N: Since this had 2 parts, I had to screenshot the second part of your request ;-; Somehow doing extra work, ah, you are so very welcome (PAY MORE NEXT TIME jk jk). Well, anyways, I improvised quite a bit with this buuuuut I feel like it's not too far off! So yes, you are very very veeeeeery welcome now!

P.S. CHEATER OMG ;-; shame shame shame

Plot: Female reader getting teased (borderline harassed) by kid!Gintoki, yet comforted by kid!Takasugi, both showing their feelings in a different way.

Warning: SFW ofc.

ofc i had to use a gif of them fighting, plus this one has all the characters I mention :p how convenient :p

"Now, it's time for Y/N to show her progress. Gin, can you spar with her?" Clenching your fists harder against the bokken, you gulped. Why did it have to be Gin? Anyone else would have been fine to fight against, even if you ended up losing, losing to Gintoki was the equivalent of getting tortured and teased for days on end.

You weren't sure why the silver haired boy seemed to hate you to this extent and as far as you were aware of, you'd never done anything to wrong him. Yet ever since you set foot in Shoka Sonjuku, ever since Shouyou sensei let you study at his school, a girl among boys, Gintoki always seemed to had it in it for you. Doesn't matter if you did or said a thing, he would always find the opportunity to make fun of you.

Most days, that was fine by you. Even if his words were rather hurtful at times, you had grown accustomed to it. If that was a price for a better education, for staying with Shouyou sensei, for making friends of your own, then so be it. Before you had joined the school, you were just an ordinarily plain girl, your future dictated to you by your own gender; spending your early years learning how to be a good housewife, finding a proper man to marry and then putting all you had learned to practice. Such a life, although appealing to most girls your age, was never particularly appealing to you. Why settle for such mundane things just because you were a girl? Why couldn't you receive the same education as boys your age, why did you have to sit and watch the Amanto claim your country, why couldn't you take a stand against them?

Joining Shoka Sonjuku, you had found the place where you belong to. Even when you were the only girl in the class, you had managed to find the acceptance you so desperately longed for. Sure, Gintoki seemed to hate your guts but thankfully, his friends didn't. No matter how cruel he could be, as long as you had Katsura and Takasugi backing you up, you always had a reason to smile, a reason to keep you moving forward and that was good enough.

You could do it, you have worked hard for it, you won't let him defeat you this time. Although your own words sounded comforting in your brain, when Gintoki made his way in front of you, your conviction begun to die out. With his lazy eyes and his rather bored smile, he looked as if he wasn't standing before an opponent worthy of his time, as if you were nothing to him and frankly, that wasn't far off from being the truth.

Breathe slowly, in and out, keep your posture and strike!

Before you knew it, your bokken had fallen from your hands, leaving a loud noise as it hit the other side of the dojo. Looking down at your hollow grip and then at him, you were trying to grasp what had just happened. You could have sworn you landed a hit, yet why was your sword all the way there? Why was he so cocky, playing with his own bokken between his fingers? Why was the room so quiet, why was everyone burning holes through you with their eyes?

"Shouyou-sensei, how many times do I need to fight her for you to see she doesn't belong here?" The boy said as he picked his nose. Flicking his fingers, he walked closer to you, tapping his bokken against your chest. "Y/N, day after day you keep raising your sword against me, yet day after day you grow weaker. What are you trying to hit? A fly? A mosquito? Where is it? I can hit it for you, no need to use such a thing to strike it." Clenching your fists, you felt rage burning through you. Why did he have to humiliate you in front of everyone like this?

"Gin, that's enough. Y/N, pick your sword, you can try again, just like you practiced, okay?" Shouyou's mellow voice was enough to soothe your nerves. He was right, you had practiced so hard for this moment. Just because you dropped your sword, didn't mean the fight was over. Quickly, you dragged your feet to the other side of the room, picking it up before returning to your spot. Gintoki sighed, taking a couple of steps back, assuming a fighting stance.

Charging at him with all you got, you felt resistance once your bokken crossed his, forcing you to stagger. Trying your best to keep your balance, you took another step back, aiming at his sides yet he was faster than you, parrying your hit in time. Again and again you tried, yet every single time he was faster, defeating you easily without even breaking a sweat. He was too strong, ridiculously strong.

After letting you charge at him countless times, Gintoki finally took initiative, attacking you with all he had, his bokken hitting your shoulder with such force that you fell onto the ground. Grimacing, you instinctively wrapped your fingers around your shoulder, rubbing at it in an attempt to soothe the pain away.

To your surprise, Gin leaned before you, extending his hand for you to grab. Hesitantly, you accepted it, allowing him to pull you back on your feet. "What are you even fighting for? You can't protect anyone, you are nothing but deadweight to us. Just quit already, perhaps if you dress pretty enough, someone will pity you and take you in. This school isn't for girls like you." The boy whispered once you were standing up.

"Sensei, I think Y/N had enough for today. Maybe it's time for a break." Dropping his bokken, Gintoki disappeared in the background without hearing sensei's answer.

"Gin is right. Everyone, you can rest now. Keep up the good work, you are progressing so much already. We'll practice again tomorrow, class dismissed."

"Y/N. Are you okay?" You weren't sure how much time had passed. Even after everyone had left the dojo, you were lost in your own thoughts, trying your hardest not to cry in front of everyone. As much as you wanted to prove Gin wrong, as much as you wanted to show him that you were more than just an average girl, you knew that his words were right. If you couldn't even beat him then how could you possibly dream of reaching higher, of protecting your country, of going against your own predetermined fate? Even when his words were harsh, it only stung because of how true they were. A deadweight, that's all you were.

"Y/N?" A different voice was calling out to you, yet you couldn't do as much as answer. You knew that the second you'd open your mouth, the tears that were clouding your eyes would come running down, a cold rain you wouldn't be able to hold back. Lifting your head, you peered at at the two boys, their blurry forms blending into one as they looked down at you.

"Zura? Takasugi?" Your voice was shaky, coming out as a whisper while you did your best to push your tears back. Even if they were your friends, they didn't have to see you in such a weakened and pathetic state.

"We asked if you were okay, you've been standing here ever since your duel. And it's not Zura, it's Katsura." His comment would have otherwise made you smile, yet right now, forcing yourself to do this much seemed impossible.

"I- I'm fine. Got a bit distracted, that's all."

"Oh, I see." Even though Katsura seemed to accept your words, Takasugi was looking at you in disbelief, furrowing his eyebrows ever so slightly. "Well, we just wanted to check on you, but if everything is fine, maybe it's time to go. Take care, Y/N, goodnight."

Once the boys were gone and you were alone, you brought your hands to your face. Just when had things gone wrong, you begun to question yourself. In the past months you had worked so hard to catch up to them, you had spent hours upon hours of hitting the wooden dummies with your bokken, practicing every move so hard that your fingers were filled with blisters. In your brain, you could picture it so perfectly, you could see yourself defeating him, yet in reality, you could barely touch him with your sword. You are just deadweight to us. His words kept circling your brain and before you knew it, you were softly whimpering, tears burning through your palms as you did.

"Thought you'd be still here." A voice caught you off guard, forcing you to turn around only to see Takasugi leaning by the door frame. Rubbing your eyes with your knuckles, you tried to pull yourself together while the boy walked closer to you. "It's Gin, right?"

"Wh-what are you doing here?" You asked once you had managed to calm down. No matter how much you tried to hide your own feelings, you could never hide them in front of Takasugi. The boy was ever insightful, being able to read every expression of yours clearly. You could lie to everyone but him, a fact that both scared and comforted you.

"He said something, didn't he?" Cutting to the chase as always.

"He... it doesn't matter." Even though Takasugi was your friend, you could never forget that he had been Gin's friends first, as much as the two of them liked to pretend otherwise. No matter how Gin made you feel, you didn't want to turn Takasugi against him like that. Besides, it was something between him and you, Takasugi had nothing to do with it.

"It obviously does, or else you wouldn't be crying here all alone."

"What he said was the truth, though."

"I'll be the judge of that." After a while of considering his offer, you ended up sighing. He was so persistent yet you knew that he meant well.

"He said that I was a deadweight. That I should quit and hopefully, I can be a nuisance to someone else. That this place isn't for girls like me and..." Repeating his words, you felt tears welling up your eyes once again. "It doesn't matter. He was right, I am useless either way."

"That bastard..." Hearing him talk like this surprised you. It wasn't as if he was the most well mannered boy of the class but for a boy his age to speak like that? "Always running up his mouth, being up to no good." Takasugi said as he scoffed. If you didn't know better, you would have sworn that he looked more irritated than you did.

After a while of awkward silence, you quietly sobbing, him kicking the wooden floor, Takasugi moved away from you. Following him with your eyes, you watched as he picked up on two bokken, walking back towards you.

"Here. Fight me." Fight...him? Although you had never sparred with him before, you knew better than to challenge him. When it came to duels, Takasugi was just as good as Gintoki was, being completely on par with him both speed and strength wise. To fight him meant to get humiliated in front of him once again for the second time in just one day.

Before you could say no to him, he threw the bokken at you. Having no choice but to grab it, you took it between your hands, looking at the wooden sword and then back at him. He wasn't going to back down, his green orbs reflecting sheer determination. While looking at him, you couldn't help but compare him to Gintoki; whereas the silver haired boy underestimated you from the moment he stood before you, Takasugi was looking at you as if you were his foe, as if you were his equal. This was all you'd ever wanted, for others to stop looking down at you, to be someone worthy of challenging.

Clenching the sword within your hands, you pushed all thoughts away, focusing on everything Shouyou sensei had taught you. Taking a deep breath, you stepped forward, raising your bokken over your head. Takasugi followed your movement, instinctively taking a step back as he parried it. You retracted your weapon, your eyes inspecting his body closely in search of an opening. There had to be something you could do, somewhere you could hit, just focus, focus, focus!

In the time it took you to think things over, Takasugi jumped closer to you, his sword clashing into yours as you barely managed to counter his hit. Fighting him, you felt the same strength you had felt while fighting Gin. He truly was a force to be reckoned with, you noted, diving to the side. Just when you thought you had managed to get away from him, he pranced at you again, your swords crossing over and over again in a flurry of strikes. You didn't have a chance to breathe, your body acting on its own, unable to do anything other than parry over and over again. Even though he was just as fast and just as strong as Gin, being able to at least keep up with him was all you needed to keep on going, to make you believe in yourself.

The more you kept fighting, the more confident you begun to feel ,yet, even when you could keep up with his speed, you found yourself unable to keep up with his stamina. If this kept on going you were sure to lose, you had to find an opening now, no matter what. Concentrating as hard as you could, you looked at him once again. He was panting and his rhythm was a bit off, more frantic and aggressive than before and that was when you saw it; his left side was completely unguarded. Takasugi was so focused on attacking you that he had let his defenses drop. It was now or never and you knew it.

With the last drop of resolve, you dived forward, tapping the blade onto his left shoulder with all your might. To your surprise, it hit, it actually hit, forcing Takasugi to fall onto the floor. Although he didn't see it coming either, his eyes still held the same familiar calm when you reached forward, your body hovering over his.

"You aren't useless." His voice was slightly breathy as he spoke. Looking down at him, you felt your own heart beating faster. Was it because of the intense sparring session or was it because of his words? No matter the case, for a second you found yourself lost in his eyes, forsaking all of the sorrow and helplessness you were previously feeling. What, what is that, you asked your own self. What is this feeling, why am I-

Cutting through your thoughts, Takasugi tackled you onto the ground, your body falling hard against the wooden floor as he jumped on top of you. "But you still have way to go." A winsome smile on his lips as he brought his bokken against your chest. The way his body felt against yours was enough to make you blush, your heart pounding so hard that it felt as if you were about to have a heart attack.

After a minute had gone by, Takasugi pulled himself up, his bokken in hand while he moved back towards the sword stands. Putting it back in place, he kept his back turned against you the entire time, avoiding your stare. Perhaps it was for the best that he didn't see how flustered you were, you thought to yourself as you watched him walk towards the door. Instead of leaving, he stood still for a moment as if he was silently contemplating something.

"Take this. Zura made it." Before you could answer, he was gone, leaving nothing but two onigiri to stand where he once did.

The image of his face reappeared in your brain while you munched on the onigiri, yet this time a light red tint was staining his cheeks, one that made you wonder whether he'd blushed while leaving this behind or, whether it was all a figment of your imagination. Whatever it was, you couldn't help but smile to yourself. Besides, the onigiri was delicious.

The next day, you found yourself standing before Shouyou sensei and the rest of the students, idle chattering going back and forth between them while they waited for practice to begin. You spotted Takasugi and Katsura standing by the door, Takasugi briefly glancing over at you while they conversed. You raised your hand to wave at him hesitantly, yet he turned away in an instant. Sighing, you turned your attention back to Shouyou. It wasn't a first for him to be acting moody, yet all you wanted to do was thank him, for the food and for the sparring. If it wasn't for him, you wouldn't be standing there again, you would have given up.

"Alright, gather up now. Gin, how would you like to fight Nishimoto-"

"Sensei. Let me fight him, please." The words came out of your mouth before you had a chance to realize what you were saying. Its gonna be fine, you reassured yourself as you walked to the center of the dojo. Everyone was looking at you yet this time, you didn't feel as scared.

"Very well. Y/N, you can go first." Stepping out of the way, Shouyou sensei moved to the far back, making space for you and Gintoki. The boy seemed half asleep, his hair all tangled up and his lids half closed as he made his way towards you.

"Still here? Why can't you quit already, this is so bothersome." He said while yawning.

"I won't quit just because you said I should. I'd much rather keep holding onto this blade until I can defeat you." You weren't going to back down this time. Even when your hands were slightly shaking as you grabbed your bokken, there was no going back. If you could stand your ground against Takasugi, then you surely could do so against Gintoki.

"Can't be helped I guess. Let's get it over with, I haven't even had breakfast today." Gintoki went on, patting onto his stomach. Even now, he was still underestimating you.

Clenching your fists tighter around the bokken, you moved closer to him, assuming a fighting stance. Blinking slowly, the boy let out another yawn before raising his own sword, aiming it at you. The look on his eyes was the same as the one he had yesterday, a fact that only increased your motivation as you took a step forward, making the first move. Gintoki was able to parry your hit, yet you didn't give him a chance to breathe, going for another hit as soon as your blades crossed. To your surprise, he was barely able to counter that one, slightly staggering as he lowered his bokken against yours.

"Not bad." He exclaimed, fending you off while he took a step back. You didn't care for his petty acknowledgments now, all you cared about was defeating him.

Again, you closed the gap between you, your sword flying at him only to cross his again and again, the hollow sound of wood hitting wood with each clash. Your practice with Takasugi was proving to be quite valuable, considering how before you weren't able to reach as far while fighting Gintoki. Still, you were reaching your limits, your arms slowly growing stiff as you kept attacking him, yet this time you couldn't find an opening no matter how hard you looked for one. Even when you could keep up with him, there was no way to defeat him, something you came to realize once his sword hit your stomach, forcing you to the ground.

"It's rude to make someone sweat so much before having breakfast." Gin exclaimed as he walked towards you, his bokken pointing at your body. "Sensei, can I go now?" He shifted his attention to Shouyou, letting his bokken drop onto the ground beside you, once again not bothering to hear sensei's answer, not bothering to give you another look. You had failed again.

Although you could hear Shouyou's reassuring voice in the background, telling you that you did well, your eyes stayed glued at Gin's back as he left the dojo. Why couldn't he say one good word to you already, goddamn it. Why couldn't he acknowledge your effort? You had worked so far, you had reached so far, yet he, he...

Your tears stung your eyes as they fell down your cheeks, making you lose your train of thought. It was pathetic to be crying in front of everyone yet you've had enough, you couldn't take it anymore. Even though you had lost, the fact that he had once again turned his back on you hurt more than any kind of wound he'd ever inflict on your body.

"Gintoki!" Takasugi's shriek snapped you out of your thoughts as the boy ran towards the door, his hands clenched into fists by his sides. Blinking your eyes, you saw Katsura running behind him, the two boys going after Gintoki. Before you could think things through, your body moved on its own, getting up on both legs as you dragged your feet behind them.

Once you were out of the dojo, you looked around, yet they were nowhere to be found. It was as if they had vanished into thin air. What was that all about, you wondered, unable to figure out what was going on. You kept on walking, circling around the area until you heard muffled voices coming from behind the trees. Moving past them, your eyes located the three boys; Takasugi having pushed Gintoki onto the ground while Katsura kept pulling at his sleeves.

"Stop fighting already! If Y/N knew you were fighting over her, she would-" Over... me?

"Cut the mediation, Zura, let him have at it. Taking it out on me is all he can do, it's not as if he'd be able to ever tell her." Tell me what? The more you listened to their conversation, the more you wanted to interfere yet somehow you found yourself glued in place.

"Gintoki" Takasugi growled, lowering his punch at the boy's face. "At least I'm not humiliating the girl I like in front of everyone." The girl he... what?!?

Only after all three had turned to face you, did you realize that you had gasped out loud, unable to hide your surprise. Did Takasugi like you? Did Gintoki like you?

"Y/N, what are you doing here?" Katsura asked awkwardly, scratching the back of his head as he looked at you. Still, you couldn't face him, your eyes going between the two boys who were still lying on the ground. Gintoki's lips were slightly parted, blood running from his lower lip while Takasugi looked at you wide eyed, his cheeks flushed red and his hair all messed up.

"I..." What could you possibly say? You were finding yourself at loss for words, in spite of the questions rushing through your brain. "Is it true?" You asked in a quiet voice, disbelief written all over your face.

"Is what true?" Katsura played dumb, pretending as if the scene you had witnessed had never occurred, when it most definitely had. "If you mean about Takasugi and-" Before he could go on, Takasugi got up, tugging at the boy's sleeve as he dragged him away. Looking at them over your shoulder, you could see Takasugi lowering his head while Katsura kept looking back, protesting at the boy's actions.

"That idiot Takasugi." Gintoki's voice forced you to turn around, watching as him get back on his feet. His clothes were muddied up, leaves stuck in his silver hair from all the struggle. Once he was up, he looked away from you, spitting blood onto the ground. "Tch, I'll make him pay as soon as I-"

"Is it true?" You repeated your question, this time directing it at him. Instead of answering your question, Gintoki shook the dirt off his clothes, making his way past you, completely ignoring you.

"Where are you going?"

"I'm not going to answer you on empty stomach. Come, you are buying." Having no other choice, you reached a hand inside your pocket, feeling a handful of coins underneath your fingertips. At the very least you could afford his portion. Letting out a sigh, you went after him, following him through the woods to the streets of Edo.

Fortunately enough, Gintoki chose a dango stall that wasn't too far away from Shoka Shonjuku. He was considerate enough not to go for something too expensive, you thought to yourself as you watched him munch on his dango stick. Holding onto yours, you could barely force a bite down, the knot in your throat being enough to suffocate you.

Once he had eaten, he threw the stick onto the ground, sucking on each of his fingers to clean them off. The two of you had stayed in compete silence the entire time, the sounds of the city being the one thing to keep you company.

"So?" You were the first to break the silence, unable to contain your own curiosity.

"For a girl, you are such an eyesore." Gintoki stated, annoyance hindering his voice. "Even Zura could make a better girl if he wanted to."

"Did you call me all the way here to insult me?" Ignoring your question, he went on. "Just look at you. What kind of girl is covered in bruises? Whose girl's hands are full of blisters from sword fighting?" He paused momentarily, furrowing his eyebrows as he inspected your face closely. Hesitantly, he reached out to you, placing a hand near your forehead, grazing a bruise with his fingertips. You weren't even aware of that one, most likely it was the result of your recent sparring.

"Y/N, why can't you live life like a normal girl? Why do you have to fight with us, what is it that you want to protect?"

"Because I... I want to beat you." Your answer was enough to catch even you by surprise. If anyone had asked you the same question in the past, you would have listed tons of reasons; because you didn't want to live an average girl's life, because you didn't want to get married off, because you wanted to protect the people around you, your own country, even. Yet when he asked, all you could think was him, how much you had worked to beat him, how much you had struggled just to hear a single compliment from his lips. As long as he acknowledged you, nothing else mattered, as long as he did that one thing, his constant teasing was something you could tolerate.

The boy studied your expression, as if he was trying to see right though you. Eventually, he turned away from you, his attention falling back to the busy road before you. Although you couldn't be sure, you could have sworn you caught glimpse of his smug smile. "You don't need to beat me to prove your worth to me. In fact... you already have beaten me a long time ago."

"What do you mean?"

"Didn't you hear what Zura said?" Your eyes were wide open as you looked at him, too nervous to say a single word to him. Peering at you with his maroon orbs, he scoffed. "Are all girls as dense as you are?"

"I... I like you." His words pierced right through your heart, echoing through your head. It was hard to believe what he was saying, considering how he'd never done anything other than tease and humiliate you, yet somehow, you could tell that his words were genuine. The way your heart begun to beat faster, the way you felt the dango tumbling through your stomach was enough proof of that.

"So... you don't hate me?

"Hate you?" He repeated your words while chuckling. "Don't be so stupid."

"Then why did you do all these things? Why were you so mean to me?"

"Because, I wanted you to give up. And if it wasn't for that shithead Takasugi, you would have. In reality, no one likes to see the girl they like all bruised up. No one likes to see them wield a sword for no reason. I don't know what or whom you want to protect but let me do that for you. What I'm saying is... Y/N, let me protect you."

His words had left you dumbfounded. You didn't know what to say, how to answer him, you didn't even know how to feel about all that. Only minutes ago, you had considered Gintoki to be your biggest rival, yet now he had spoken to you about his feelings, feelings you would have never guessed he had. Even if all this was nothing more than kid's talking, his confession was enough to make you waver. You had never considered things in such a manner, to you Gintoki, Takasugi even, were only your classmates. Yet now that you were looking at things more clearly, perhaps it wasn't completely one sided. Perhaps behind all this frustration and competition, there had always been something more, something you couldn't properly identify at your age. Perhaps it wasn't victory that you sought, perhaps all you longed for was his approval.

"Gin..." You said his name out loud, yet you weren't entirely sure what to say to him. All you knew was that despite everything he had done for you, his words had filled you with an unfamiliar feeling, one that tiptoed between extreme happiness and even more extreme anxiety. Still, you had to let him know how his words made you feel, how he made you feel.

Gintoki scoffed once again, shaking his head dismissively as he got up. "We talked enough. It's time to go back before Shouyou sensei sends Zura to find us." Turning his back on you, he begun to walk away when you jumped forward, hands tugging onto his sleeve, forcing him to stop. The boy flinched, his eyes looking at your hands and then at your face. Gulping, you let go of him, wiping the sweat of your palms against your kimono as you felt your cheeks flush red. Once again, you found yourself unable to utter a single word, the sound of your heart being more than enough to distract you.

Suddenly, the boy reached forward, claiming one of your hands in his, forcing you to look up at him. Although his eyes looked as bored as ever, this time a shy smile was carved onto his lips, one that was meant for your eyes only. Instead of saying a thing, he just nodded, taking another step forward, only this time, your fingers were laced together as the two of you made your way back.

A/N: In other words, I gave in to creative freedom :p Had to somehow make Gintoki mean and I had to justify it kinda so yeah this is what I came up with. Hopefully it's decent, heh.

[whereisten]

True Love

A Jeno fic that’s a part of our Halloween Series!

Summary: You, an employee at an entertainment company, are immune to the charms of their biggest star Lee Jeno.

Pairing: Rockstar! Jeno x female reader

Genre: romance, drama, fantasy, suspense

Warning: alcohol use, smut mention, stalking, manipulation 

Word Count: 4.3k

(A/N: Hiya! I’m so sorry for the delay! It’s been so hectic lol! Thank you so much for your support and patience! Hope you enjoy! And shoutout to Krys for keeping me sane and for all of her love and support. I love you! :D)

___

To everyone in the world, Lee Jeno was the epitome of perfection and rock royalty. He was a gifted musician from the very young age of five, having specialized in several instruments in his childhood. However, his heart gravitated to the guitar. He became a trainee at LCF Entertainment and along with four other trainees, they became the world famous rock band, Temptation.

He was ranked in the top 23 in World Magazine’s Sexiest Men Alive this year. He was a walking and talking Adonis with a heartwarming smile.

Jeno was a man of many talents but he certainly didn’t let it get to his head. He was a humanitarian, a UNICEF ambassador, fostered shelter animals, was the proud owner of three cats even though he was allergic, a great family man (funding his siblings’ college tuition and providing for his parents so they could retire early), etc. He did it all and he had it all.

How could anyone be immune to his charms?

People wondered who would be the queen that would reign beside him when he settled down. Frankly, one couldn’t be anything short of a supermodel on the verge of sainthood. So many hopeful contenders were discouraged from pursuing him.

Jeno’s dating life was non-existent, the paparazzi dreaded to inform.

But you were an employee of LCF Entertainment so you knew the truth, as well as the true nature of the famous Lee Jeno. He was basically like any other young man with an inflated ego. He was cocky, a huge flirt when the cameras were off, very picky, and demanding. But no one ever dared speak a word of his true nature to the paparazzi. And you always wondered why. Someone had to bring him down a few pegs.

You were the staff photographer and videographer, in charge of capturing Jeno’s good and “relatable but still unbelievably glamorous” sides. When the camera was on, that was when you felt at ease.

It didn’t help that Jeno liked you either. Although you’d been working with Temptation and the individual members for a few years now, it was only recently that Jeno really was set on it pursuing you.

When you switched off the camera after the recording of Jeno’s backstage vlog, he sat comfortably at his makeup chair and proceeded to ask, “Y/n, will you go out with me now?”

You answered immediately, “No.”

Jeno gave you a sad puppy dog face. “Why not?”

“We’ve gone over this. I would get fired.” You wanted to spare his feelings so that was what you always said when he asked you out.

Jeno groaned. “You would not. I wouldn’t let that happen.”

You snorted. “You think you have that kind of power, Lee?”

He liked when you called him by his last name. “That’s because I do have that power, y/n. The new company building is funded solely out of my earnings from my last solo album.”

You whistled. “There’s that humility I’m always reading about in O!What Magazine…”

Jeno smiled. “You read articles about me?”

“I do when my name is in the article, boss.” You started packing up your equipment, ready to call it a day and head home.

Jeno got out of his chair and stood over you. He smelled of Dior Sauvage, cologne from his latest brand endorsement. He wore his stage clothes from his solo concert rehearsal. A sleeveless jean jacket top that parted down the middle to show his abs. Along his abs, silver chains dangled and added a nice glimmer effect when he was on stage. The entire team was thrilled to see how the audience would eat it up.

He whispered into your ear, “Y/n.”

Truthfully? He was attractive. You’d always had a little crush on him but it was of a shallow nature. You liked him for his looks. Not so much for his personality. You’d known too much.

If Jeno had been any other regular guy, you would’ve been open to a one-night stand.

But Jeno wasn’t just any regular guy.

You tried to hide the fact that shivers ran down your spine. “Stop.”

He chuckled. “But I can see you through the reflection, y/n...You're crossing your legs…”

You’d hoped he wasn’t that perceptive but it turned out he was. You hid away the fact that you were turned on. Your panties were damp but you’d be damned if he ever knew that.

You met Jeno’s perfectly lined eyes as he looked at you unapologetically. Everyone else from the staff already left. Jeno’s manager was waiting downstairs to take him to the radio station J-423 for his upcoming interview.

You were breathless now. “Jeno, you’re going to be late-”

He pulled you into him and kissed you, easily slipping his tongue into your mouth and working magic against yours. You couldn’t help but return his kiss. His mouth was paradise and you wondered what else he could do with it.

He let you go after a few minutes and cupped your face. “So are you going to deny that there’s something going on here?”

You tried to catch your breath as you wiped your lipstick off of Jeno’s mouth. “No, I guess not...But this is where it stops.”

Jeno frowned. “Y/n…”

“I know where I stand. And you know it, too. And Jeno, I don’t like you that way...I’m sorry.” You caressed his face and grabbed your things, leaving Jeno with an unreadable expression on his face.

___

As a member of LCF Entertainment, your ultimate goal was profit. That was what you had to know from the very beginning. There was no such thing as LCF Family or truly prioritizing the idols. Everyone was after themselves. Whoever brought the most money to the company would get the most attention and special treatment. And that was Jeno.

And you, an aspiring film director, were thankful to be on his team because this experience could open doors for you in the future as a director. Sure, Jeno was a diva and he couldn’t stop flirting with you, but the experience wasn’t all that bad. And yeah it was frustrating that the media and the public perceived Jeno to be the nation’s sweetheart. But in the end, he wasn’t hurting anyone.

He was only hurting people’s wallets.

Temptation’s merchandise always sold out quickly but Jeno’s individual merch was always the first to sell out. And it was the first to get resold for twice and sometimes even triple the price. The fanbase was very merciless and selfish with each other. However, the scalpers were the true evil. That was less money going to your company, after all.

Even though frontman Jeno was the most popular member of Temptation, it was Temptation’s drummer Xiaojun that you had a massive crush on for a long time now. You even accumulated a secret collection of his merch. You were two photocards away from completing your Xiaojun album photocard collection.

Xiaojun even admitted to liking you back but you both kept it a secret from everyone else in the world, especially LCF. You two weren’t about to compromise your jobs. However, since Temptation was the biggest moneymaker in the game and the boys had been with the company for quite some time now, their dating ban was lifted.

Which explained why Jeno had been asking you out all week, not caring who listened and it freaked you out.

If Jeno’s fans ever found out he asked you out, they would pin the blame on you.

A week had passed since you told Jeno you weren’t interested in him. You felt bad for hurting him but you were also worried about his mood. He had the power to get you dismissed. You refused to believe he would be so cruel.

And up until this point, you were right. You were still employed and Jeno spoke with you like any other day, talking about camera angles and new concepts for upcoming shoots.

The end of another work week and Xiaojun surprises you on your way to the bus stop.

“Y/n,” Xiaojun pulls up beside you in his Porsche. He looked so elegant in a pale blue sweater and blue jeans. His face was concealed by a mask so he could leave undetected. But you’d recognized those eyebrows anywhere.

“Hey. What are you doing here?”

“I...I think we should finally talk…”

“About?”

He smiled. “About dating.”

You nearly dropped your phone out of your hand from the shock. “Really?”

He said, “Get in so I can drive you home!”

You nodded fervently and got into his passenger seat. Was this really happening?

On the drive home, Xiaojun told you he wanted to take it slow and have indoor dates with you first. You couldn’t agree more. He even surprised you with a brand new pair of AirPods after you told him that your brother took them from you.

The first of many gifts, he told you.

You got home that night and screamed excitedly into your pillow so as not to frighten your roommates

___

It has been a month since you and Xiaojun started seeing each other. You were on cloud nine. He would visit you at your apartment and would play with his dog Bella. Bella loved you a little more than she loved Xiaojun so you two would always bicker and end the night in each other’s arms.

Jeno noticed the spring in your step as you filmed his cooking vlog. He was showing his fans how he cooked breakfast for himself when he had down time. He was in a plain white T-shirt and a pair of drawstring trousers. He looked relaxed and for many, delectable, as his hair was wet from a shower. He was trying very hard to get your attention once again.

He anticipated you averting your eyes and stuttering at the sight of him but nothing. You whistled while you adjusted the tripod’s position.

“What’s got you so happy?” Jeno asked.

You nearly jumped at his question. You decided to be upfront. “I’m seeing Xiaojun.”

Jeno’s cool facade nearly cracked before your very eyes. “Oh?”

You apologized. “I’m sorry, Jeno. I should’ve told you that I liked Xiaojun…”

Jeno was furious. What the hell did Xiaojun have that he didn’t? Jeno was more muscular, taller, more talented, wealthier, more attractive...He was superior to Jeno in every way and everyone else knew it, too.

He honed his acting skills and replied evenly, “Why are you apologizing, y/n? So you like someone else...I’ll live.”

You realized maybe Jeno didn’t like you as much as you thought so you felt relieved to hear his dismissive tone. “Right. Good. I just...thought you should know…”

You and Jeno continued the shoot. He acted like nothing had happened and even behind the scenes, he joked with you and asked you which of the female trainees he should ask out. You berated him because female trainees were not allowed to date and he knew this very well. Jeno was back to his arrogant self and you were relieved.

___

You got a text from Xiaojun that he was finishing up a filming schedule with his bandmates. You wouldn’t be able to see him today because the schedule was running overtime.

He told you to go to dinner with some friends at Osaka Moon. His treat. He was good friends with the chef, apparently. You were on your way to the restaurant to meet your friends.

You were shocked at how down-to-earth Xiaojun still was after achieving so much fame and then he would do things like this. It gave you whiplash but you were having the time of your life with him.

However, you noticed him across the street. Xiaojun always wore different wigs and masks for his disguised outings with you.

But this time, there were no disguises. His side swept blonde hair and his thin framed glasses. There was no mistaking that it was him.

Was the filming for the show at the Downtown Hotel?

You were about to call his name when you saw another woman wrap her arms around him and squeeze his ass. She had long wavy brown hair and a slender frame. She could’ve been a model or a singer. They both entered the expensive hotel. Very bold of him to take her out so publicly when he was still intent on hiding you.

You felt like someone knocked the breath out of you. You shook your head in disbelief.

Immediately, you dialed Xiaojun’s number and there was no answer. You called four more times and nothing.

Son of a bitch, you thought.

He played you. You should’ve known he was no different than any other dickhead A-lister.

You decided to call his bandmates. It turned out that the filming they’d done today wrapped up over two hours ago.

Haechan had no idea where he was. Jisung didn’t either. Jaemin was equally perplexed. Last but not least you called Jeno.

He answered. “Hello?”

At this point, you couldn’t hold back your tears anymore. “Jeno…”

“Y/n? What’s wrong?”

“Do you know where Xiaojun is?”

“Not specifically...he did mention he had a reservation at the Downtown Hotel…”

You sniffled. “He did?”

“I thought he was meeting you…”

“No, he wasn’t…”

“Oh...Oh, shit, y/n. I am so-“

“It’s okay...Thanks Jeno. I’ll see you on Monday…”

You told your friends to have dinner without you and to make sure to spare no expense because your so-called boyfriend was buying. You told them Xiaojun finished at the last minute and wanted to take you dancing.

A total lie so you could wallow at your local bar.

You sat right by the bar and downed a few glasses of beer. Just to feel anything else besides the betrayal you felt.

A half hour later, you were even more buzzed now. A young man sat beside you at the counter.

He started, “Hello, gorgeous.”

You looked at the young man. He was stunning. Another face that belonged on television. Another one of those who was capable of seducing you and tossing you away the very next second.

You flipped the bird. “Bite me.”

The young man scoffed and tried again, “Feisty, aren’t we?”

He got closer to you and you began to feel uncomfortable. “Please leave me alone…”

“Tsk tsk. A beautiful girl like you in tears? You need someone who will bring your smile back.”

“And you’re the man for that job?” Someone interrupted.

You were shocked to find Jeno here. He looked gorgeous in a black leather jacket and dark jeans. His hair was slicked back the way you liked it most and wow, you may have had one too many drinks...A few customers recognized Jeno and started whispering and taking their cameras out.

“Jeno?” You nearly lost your balance as you got up from your chair.

Jeno grabbed you immediately before the other guy could.

The stranger said, “Why do you get to put your hands on her? Just cause you're some pretty boy with mediocre music...I’m sure she’s nothing compared to who you’ve bedded before-“

Jeno socked him in the face and escorted you out of the bar. The stranger cursed you both out as you left. Jeno led you quickly into his manager’s car that he borrowed for the night. You felt a little dizzy.

Jeno fastened your seatbelt.

You smiled at him. “Thanks.”

He looked at you in concern. “Are you okay?”

You shook your head. “Why are men scum, Jeno?”

Jeno sighed. “I’m so sorry about-“

“Don’t say his name...I...never want to see him again...God, now I have to sell all of his merch…”

Jeno frowned in confusion and continued, “I’ll take you home…”

You didn’t want to face your roommates. “No...Can I…Spend the night with you?”

It took all of Jeno’s might not to get out his car and raise his fist in the air. But he composed himself. “Are you sure?”

You nodded, wanting to forget all about Xiaojun and have one thoughtless night with Jeno. “Yes.”

Jeno drove you two to his penthouse suite. He was cautious around you and you were ready to shrug away your inhibitions.

Jeno helped you remove your coat at the entrance. “Take a seat. I’ll get you some water.”

You sat yourself on the couch and opened your legs wide, exposing your panties underneath your skirt. “Jeno, fuck me right now so I can forget his sorry ass.”

Jeno hesitated then but seeing how irresistible you were...He couldn’t help himself.

He asked again. “Are you sure?”

You nodded. You were buzzed but not that buzzed. You wanted to spite Xiaojun. You wanted to acknowledge the part of you that longed for Jeno for so long, too. You’d be stupid to deny that you fantasized about a night with him.

You hesitated before but now you said, why the hell not?  

You and Jeno made love that night. Jeno was over the moon that you were finally in his arms. Sure it was a rebound but the look in your eyes when he was inside you had to mean something. There was a promise there and Jeno held onto that glimmer of hope.

Jeno took you home the next day and he was very cool about the whole night. Right before you returned home. you reminded him about how this was a one night stand and thanked him for a wonderful night.

You were resolute in dumping Xiaojun and simply going back to work. Thankful you only ever worked for Jeno anyway. And as expected, Jeno was his usual self: cocky, flirty, sending his food back for random reasons.

Xiaojun came under the fire for going to a hotel with a potential prostitute. The identity of the woman he was seen with remained a mystery. He tried convincing everyone that the woman was not a prostitute but he couldn’t remember how he met her or what she looked like. That night and along with how crazy Xiaojun sounded caused the company to encourage him to leave. Xiaojun’s contract with LCF Entertainment was terminated.

The week after you and Jeno made love...You started catching feelings for him. Every glance. Every fleeting touch. It drove you mad. And suddenly that one night stand was something you wanted again. And again. And again.

You accompanied Jeno and his manager as he attended a gallery opening. You were in charge of his photos for his social media. He looked extremely dapper in his red suit. You just wanted to rip his clothes off and make love to him in front of all of the guests. Becoming a work of art yourselves.

These thoughts you’ve been having used to scare you but now...you owned them. Tonight, when you got him alone, you would tell him how you really felt. You hoped you weren’t too late.

Jeno’s manager excused himself to get some refreshments. Jeno observed a painting while you took some more photos.

“Stunning,” you said aloud.

Jeno’s eyes grew at your words. “Wow, y/n...All the years we’ve worked together and you’ve never made a comment about my looks…”

Your face grew warm then. “I’m feeling a little bolder these days…”

He grinned. “Is that so?”

“Jeno, I won’t beat around the bush…I haven’t stopped thinking about you since that night…”

“Y/n…”

“I know I said it was a one night stand and...You’ve moved on…”

Jeno started, “I haven’t…”

You were shocked to hear it. “Really?”

He moved closer to you and moved the camera away from your line of sight. “What are you saying, y/n?” His voice was dangerously low.

“I’m saying...that I want to be with you, Jeno.”

Jeno’s smile looked so gorgeous then. He was the true work of art at the gallery. “Well, y/n, I’ve made my feelings abundantly clear for a while now…”

He kissed you then. And the cameras started flashing.

You were on cloud nine. You finally released your suppressed feelings for the rockstar before you.

___

You’ve been together for two years now. He made you feel safe and loved. He showered you with gifts and trips to the most beautiful parts of the world.

As for the response from netizens and the company? Jeno had all the power and he could handle a few naysayers. Your job as his photographer and videographer remained intact. And you were well on your way to transitioning to your own film projects: your dream.

You and Jeno had become a couple to root for. They called you The Prince and The Pauper Turned Princess. You hated your label but whenever you looked at Jeno’s eyes, any anxiety or anger quickly faded.

Jeno had a solo performance in your city tonight and you were seated in a private booth. He was performing so well, moving from instrument to instrument. Driving people to tears with his long low notes. And then he surprised everyone with his announcement.

“Before I perform ‘Changed Your Mind’, I want to give a shout-out to the woman of my dreams, y/n, who is here with us tonight.”

The stadium roared in excitement and many heads turned to you. Your eyes never left Jeno.

“Y/n, I love you so much. We’ve come so far, baby. And I want us to never stop. Which is why…”

He got down from the stage and was escorted by security down to the crowd. He ran his hands past adoring fans as he made his way to you.

He entered your booth with his camera crew and security close by. “Y/n, will you marry me?”

You cried out, “Yes!”

Jeno picked you up and spun you around. You kissed passionately. The crowd’s roars thundered now. It was a celebration. You didn’t care that all eyes were on you now, as well. All you cared about was Jeno. And he loved you more than anything else in the world.

You truly found your soulmate and you couldn’t be happier.

___

Jeno finished his show and was backstage cooling down with a bottle of water.

“Good job tonight,” a woman said as she stood at the door of Jeno’s dressing room.

“Thank you, sis. To what do I owe the pleasure?”

Jeno’s older sister Yeeun sat on the couch of the dressing room. “How does it feel to have her in your clutches now?”

Jeno smirked. “Pretty damn great.”

“And I’m here to collect my payment, little brother.”

Jeno sighed. “Really? It’s been two years.”

Yeeun looked at her manicured nails. “I’ve been busy.”

Jeno laughed. “Screwing over taken men? I’m sorry, I meant screwing taken men?”

“Nope. That task was a one-and-done deal. How is that poor boy doing these days?”

“Xiaojun? He’s back at school getting his master’s...He’s happy.”

“Has he tried to contact y/n since then?” Yeeun asked.

Jeno chuckled. “No. Why would he?”

She smiled at him. “They were sweet together. And you tore them apart because you couldn’t take no for an answer, could you?”

Jeno rolled his eyes. “And what about it? I have a right to get whatever I want. Do you know who I am?”

Yeeun sighed. “Yes, you repeatedly tell the family group chat who you are every week. And we all take it because you pay us well…”

Jeno and Yeeun had conspired against you and Xiaojun. Jeno stole Xiaojun’s phone and Yeeun charmed Xiaojun to join her for a night at the hotel. Jeno planned for you to go to Osaka Moon so you could see Xiaojun and Yeeun together.

Jeno watched you as you broke down in tears, calling each of his bandmates. He made sure he was far enough away by the time you called him. He played the part of a concerned friend very well. He had to take up acting, another field he would surely dominate. And with you as his director? It made him hard just thinking about it.

Jeno didn’t coincidentally find you at the bar. He’d been tailing and that stranger who hit on you was only an added bonus. Jeno could play the unsuspecting hero and you would eat it up. And that you did. He was satisfied to know that you wanted to sleep with him. He didn’t care about being a rebound.

Even so, he wasn’t going to take any chances. So after you left his penthouse the next morning, he took the bedsheets you came on and the strands of hair you left behind and got to work.

Did you really think Jeno amassed such success and wealth all on his own? He had a little help from his family and their friends from Hell, of course. Jeno’s family came from a long line of Satan-worshipping witches. Jeno was the youngest of the descendants.

Human sacrifice was only a small token of the Lee family’s appreciation to Lucifer. So Jeno’s deception of Xiaojun was almost nothing in the list of gruesome things Jeno has done to reach the top of his game.

Yeeun was able to literally charm Xiaojun with her own special concoction. Once she and Xiaojun had sex, she wiped his memory of that hour and left him alone at the hotel. Confused. Disoriented. Worried.

As for you? Well, you were the most irresistible creature in this world. Your immunity to his charms was only the first step in his growing feelings for you. You were brilliant and talented at your craft, always capturing his best features on camera. You were gorgeous. He was surprised you didn’t become an idol at LCF yourself. You were warm and sweet and giving. Even if the company was cutthroat, he saw how you’d be with your coworkers and the other idols. You were just a pure, loving girl. And he desperately needed you. Desired you. Craved you.

He simply had to call you his.

With your samples, he was able to create the perfect spell to make you his.

Forever.

That was what Jeno called true love.

[Fin]

[koo-zy]

hello! do you have any fantasy/historical jungkook x reader fic recs ?

hello lovely!! i’m so sorry i missed this yesterday :( i was actually planning on reorganizing my tumblr because i feel like no fics are ever going to be able to be found my blog LOL so hopefully that’ll be done soon!!

as for the fantasy/historical fics.. i’m honestly not too sure what “fantasy” (do demons count..? soulmates..? werewolves????) typically includes so i’m just going to include a bunch of fics that hopefully fit in :”) here are the first ones that i thought of + summaries included in their main posts!

also.. i’m sure i missed a lot of amazing fics (mainly because i’m dumb as hell and don’t really know what can be included in “fantasy”) and would like to apologize in advance!! 

@inktae ’s entire masterlist (they have a lot of fantasy fics!)

while this isn’t just jungkook recs, @ficswithluv had a fantasy category a few weeks ago!

@kpopfanfictrash ‘s jungkook masterlist

@fortunexkookie ‘s jungkook masterlist

one shots!

énouement - @littlemisskookie Mulan!AU

War is Hell, but it’s what you had to do to take your brother’s place. Of course, between the days of Hell are little slices of Heaven you’d call your Captain, Jeon Jungkook.

midas - @gukyi 

jeon jungkook was born with a silver spoon in his mouth and the power to turn whatever he wants into pure gold. you were born with healing and invisibility powers but without a cent to your name. so when you’re plucked off of the streets for pickpocketing and assigned to be his minder as punishment, you realize you’re going to have to overcome a lot more than class differences if either of you are going to get what you want.

i will not lose! - @jimlingss Magic!AU

A single bet - use every means to make Jeon Jungkook fall in love with you.

a piece of the moonlight - @/jimlingss Mulan!AU

For your loved ones, the people who are waiting at home, the people who have died - you will fight. And sometimes to fight means to sacrifice: who you really are and the person you really love.

dynasty - @/jimlingss Historical!AU

It’s no secret that the Emperor is infertile. But even so, a girl is selected every three months and brought to become his concubine in hopes of conceiving the next heir. This time, it’s you. And in order to prevent execution, Jeon Jungkook might just aid you in conception.

game of temptation ft. knj, myg, kth - @/jimlingss Succubus!AU 

As a succubus, your beauty is unrivaled and shaped to tempt mortals. But it’s still hard to resist Taehyung, and there’s little you can do once you’ve been coerced to do his bidding for him. This time, you find yourself entering the affluent Kim Household as a housemaid. And these poor humans don’t know your intentions are far from being angelic.

knot today - @kinktae

(IDK IF WEREWOLVES COUNT BUT JERHFBDSKNZX THIS IS REALLY GOOD!!)

When your first heat approaches and you are left partnerless, who better to turn to than your alpha roommate that you’ve spent the better half of your life hiding your feelings for?

ego - @luxekook Harry Potter!AU

(..i also don’t know if HP counts LOL)

in which jeongguk is a cocky lil shit and the reader has to take him down a few pegs

stumbling - @hayjeon Prince!AU

an ask in their inbox regarding the prompt: hii! so the royal wedding of prince harry and meghan is today, and since my bias is JK and since i’m such a sucker for royal stuff, can i reuest a fic of bts all being royal of 7 different kingdom, and all of them being invited to jin’s wedding and the girl (oc) is also invited and kookie met her there, and eventually took an interest at her? the girl is also royalty from other kingdom. thanks!

werewolf!jungkook - @/hayjeon

an ask in their inbox regarding the prompt: Werewolf!jk? (im sorry ik it’s overused and unoriginal) where he and his mate have pups to take care of and they’re quite a mischievous bunch!

there for you - @cupofteaguk Hogwarts!AU

Jungkook is always known for doing things unapologetically, and it makes sense given how almost nothing gets under his skin—almost nothing, but maybe there’s an exception that takes a form of a muggleborn with the shy smile and quirky spells.

say you won’t let go - @/cupofteaguk Soulmates!AU

You’ve been eighteen years old for ten years when Jungkook first moves in 

new romantics - @/cupofteaguk Hogwarts!AU

Jeon Jungkook will go down in history as one of the best Quidditch players that ever graced the Hogwarts scene. It seems like he always gets what he wants—his life is very predictable in that sense. What he cannot predict, however, is the newest weekend employee wiping down the tables at the Three Broomsticks.

a cinderella story - @suhdays Modern Cinderella!AU

you are forced to work multiple jobs as you live under your stepmothers roof. unable to move out and strive for complete independence, you do what you can in order save enough. turns out, as a college student that is harder than you thought. so, you distract yourself by joining online chat groups in which you meet a boy that goes to your school. that boy? none other than the rugby star himself, jeon jeongguk. it doesn’t prove to be an issue until he asks to meet you at an upcoming halloween party. he’s never noticed you before so why not hide yourself in order to live your dreams, if only for a moment?

explorer - @1kook Alien!AU

Jungkook does not want to impress the frankly tyrannical ways of his planet on you. He just wants to stay here and keep your couch warm for you, hold your hair back when you wash your face in the morning.

rottenfolk - @junqkook Faerie!AU

a look was as hazardous as chemicals, a kiss as perilous as poison; his eyes and lips felt akin to a cure, but he was purely venom.

the young wolf - @/junqkook Game of Thrones!AU

he was promised to another, meant for another to hold and to love and to kiss. but when his hand lingered on yours for a moment too long to be proper, and when his eyes held yours for a beat too long to be a passing glance, you allowed desire to creep into your veins, to take root inside your heart. perhaps before you might have been permitted to love him freely. perhaps he might have even been promised to you instead. but war was no place for the wants and desires of two people, no matter how much they yearned for it to be.

the lighthouse - @rubycoast S2L!AU

(im not too sure if this is considered fantasy but its one of my favs!)

you and jungkook had one thing in common: you were both lost souls stagnant in the search of some fulfillment. the one of many differences was that your story had been written on your sleeves, while jungkook’s was a story needed to be unriddled.

black magic - @hansolmates​ Magic Uni!AU

a witch with an ambition for learning, you stumble across a crushing spell in the middle of the forbidden section. of course you have to try it out! what happens when the crushing spell not only has jeon jungkook crushing on you, but you crushing on him?

the sea & the storm - @jamaisjoons Fantasy!AU

the sea is a powerful mistress. she is calm and beautiful. she is mysterious and alluring. she is a force to be reckoned with. above all, however, she is lonely. until she meets him. fantasy au.

the lionheart’s oath - @sugaxjpg Knight & Princess!AU

There was no happy ending, no dragon slayer to save the kingdom and get the princess — there was only him: Jungkook. A simple orphan that was lucky enough to be invited into the castle, a former homeless thief that had found shelter in the form of an elysian heir. Now, after twelve years by your side, he was about to lose you to the world you sought to explore.

ghosts just wanna have fun - @/sugaxjpg Psychic & MedSchool!AU

When Jungkook discovered that he could communicate with dead people, the last thing he expected was that they would be there to give him romantic advice.

wartime child - @ktheist Wizard!AU

raising a baby in wartime isn’t easy. but when your baby starts showing signs of magical abilities, you’re forced to ring up the only other person you know he takes after: jeon jungkook.

birth of an empress - @/ktheist Dragon Slayer!AU

partners for three years and friends for longer, jungkook thought you’d remain so until he saw you with the knight at the merchant’s trade.

alternatively, the friendly neighborhood wizard trying to propose to the infamous dragon slayer in the middle of slaying a dragon? now, that’s classic.

series/two shots!

fear in your eyes - @/gukyi Werewolf!AU

(again, idk if werewolves count but hifksdjcx !!!!)

there’s a werewolf in that forest behind your house, they told you, and he’ll eat you before you can even beg for mercy. 

the worshiper series - @/jimlingss 

Long ago, there were gods who resided in Heaven -- existing to watch over and protect the universe. Each of them had their own flaws, trials and tribulations; some which were more sparing than others, but these are their stories...

a promise of freedom - @/jimlingss Wartime!AU

War is cruel and its inhumanity has not spared you. Captured by the enemy, you were brought to the front lines to heal their wounded. But after one night of saving a particular man’s life, he swears to fulfill any wish of yours.

one year, my love - @/hayjeon Historical!AU

You forge a marriage contract with the strangely speaking man who suddenly stumbled into your town with memory loss, but little do you know that he’s actually the lost Crown Prince, and a lot can happen between a married man and woman in one year.

demigod!au drabbles - @/hayjeon

an ask in their inbox regarding the prompt: i have a supernatural au prompt! how bout daughter of hades/loner!reader and son of zeus/bully! jungkook?

into the woods - @/junqkook Goblin!AU

getting hurt and stumbling upon a goblin in the forest leaves you completely at his mercy, though you aren’t sure if that’s necessarily a bad thing.

lionheart - @/junqkook Magic!AU

as a sorcerer, it is of the utmost importance that you keep your magic a secret from everyone. when you become prince jungkook’s servant, it becomes increasingly difficult to keep your identity hidden; especially when you fall in love with him.

a royal exchange - @/hansolmates

she’s the man!au where the princess impersonates her brother yoongi in order to finish his degree on time while yoongi is thrusted into princely duties. jeongguk is in the mess purely through room arrangement

knight!jungkook x princess!reader - @/ktheist

a series with 27 parts!

that’s all i can think of off the top of my head right now :(( not gonna lie, half of these probably don’t even fit into either of those categories and i know there are so so so many amazing fantasy/historical fics out there!! i wish i knew them all but i hope this helped a little bit! if anyone has any fic they’d like to rec, feel free to send it to meee :)

and finallyyyyy i leave my following page open for viewing as well so you can check out all of the authors i follow!! please show all of these authors (and many more) some love! <3

[adashofniallandasprinkleoflunacy]

Supposedly 

A/N: this was a request sent in that inspired me a lot for some reason and i figured i’d do it cause i haven’t done any demon!h and demon!reader in a while so i gave it a go and I’m pretty happy with how it turned out :D enjoy!

Anonymous: This may be too cutesy for them, but do demon!harry and demon!reader ever cuddle after they fuck? Or they fall asleep separately but wake up in each other’s arms and just try to play it off awkwardly 

word count: 4.5k

content: some angst but nothing major, fluff, mentions of nudity, and some cocky asshole demon!h because that’s his Brand laidese and germs!!

///

Despite the emotionless, unattached agenda demons tend to uphold, let it be known that Harry didn’t really mind what was happening at the moment. 

On the surface level, from an outside perspective, this definitely doesn’t fit the bill for what is expected from his kind. Cuddling is an action reserved usually for real couples that have a sentimental bond, which he and Y/N are very much not. He’s not even quite sure what they are, really. Their relationship— if he can even call it that— was born out of three very important, adequately limiting notions: a mutual understanding, the desire for a convenient warm body, and sheer boredom. 

Nothing more, nothing less. 

The mutual understanding was that neither of them wanted a genuine significant other, given what they are, so it was established that feelings were to be kept out of this arrangement completely. Emotions lead to complications, complications lead to a falling out, and a falling out would be inexplicably messy considering that they’ve shared the same friend group for well over a decade now and neither are willing to let a booty call mishap ruin that. Feelings stay dormant, end of discussion. 

The desire for a convenient warm body is pretty self-explanatory— Harry and Y/N had known each other for a while now so there was no annoying getting to know you phase, they both agreed that they found the other attractive, and they both live relatively close to one another so it was a pleasant set-up with minimal issues. Harry could shoot her a text at three in the morning and she’d be at his place in less than five minutes, or vice versa. There was no spending hours at a bar trying to pick someone up, no time wasted learning what the other person likes and dislikes, and certainly no fretting over birth control tactics to keep up appearances— they were both dead, which is a morbid advantage but an advantage nonetheless. It was easy access, easy fun, and easy clean-up. 

The sheer boredom aspect was just that. It had started on a drunken night out with friends, where— by a series of fortunate events— Harry and Y/N had ended up together post-bender, sitting in his car in the parking lot of a club. They had been waiting for him to sober up to drive them home and she had made a passing comment about not wanting to turn in for the night quite yet. He’d blinked at her sluggishly, absentmindedly reaching over to tuck a rouge strand of hair behind her ear because he was getting secondhand irritation from it tickling her nose. He’d spoken up, voice numb and thick from the alcohol. “What do you wanna do, then?”

Y/N had glanced over at him, eyes half-lidded as they had raked down his lean tattooed chest, his unbuttoned silk sheer shirt leaving very little to the imagination. When she’d pinned her gaze back up to his, her eyes had inked black as they’d flitted to the palm of his hand for a second, a suggestive glint washing across their reflective surface as the corner of her pretty mouth had quirked. “I have a decent idea of exactly what I wanna do.”

And now here they were, with many restless, heated nights, ruined bed frames, and rumpled sheets littering their past, as well as their immediate future. 

And here Harry was, slowly blinking awake after one of those said nights, cruel scratches itching across his back as they finish up healing, an empty content still bubbling at the pit of his stomach. 

His lashes flutter open as he inhales a large sigh, flinching at the bright sunlight filtering its way through the lightly swaying curtains. The only sound in the room is the soft thrum of the air vent at the far corner of the ceiling, alongside Y/N’s soft, rhythmic breathing. 

In his barely conscious state, Harry goes to do what he always does the morning after he’s spent a night doing Y/N’s back in: he goes to stretch. He does most of the work more times than not— courtesy of his dominant tendencies— but she always gives him a run for his soul. Anything he dishes out, she usually returns with the same amount of energy and will. Last night hadn’t been any different and the ache at the bottom of his spine and along his inner thighs proves it. 

Harry instinctively goes to lift his arms above his head, reaching for the top of the headboard to use it as support. He is stopped cold when he realizes a foreign weight is keeping one of his arms pinned to the bed. 

He knuckles at his eyes with his free hand, ridding them of the last residues of sleep, and then drags his palm up his face and through his mussed curls to comb away his disorientation. He cranes his sore neck to the side and downwards, eyebrows jolting up in surprise when he’s met with a wall of fluffy, tangled, mandarin-scented hair. 

Harry lifts his head up slightly, neck straining to see over the back of Y/N’s wild halo to make sure that the image before him isn’t some type of exhaustion-induced mirage. 

It’s odd for her to be so near him— she usually likes her space; says that being too close in proximity for too long is irritating. It’s why she usually sleeps with her back to him at the other end of the bed, and why he’s gotten accustomed to giving her the majority of the mattress space. Despite the fact that it’s his flat, she’s stubborn, hard-headed, argumentative and frankly, he’d rather just forfeit the extra leg room instead of bickering for thirty minutes just to end up losing anyways. It’s gentlemanly, in a sense. Minimal, but it’s something.

Given Y/N’s general disgust for excess contact, it’s no shock as to why Harry is utterly baffled right now. He’s about ninety-eight percent sure she’d fallen asleep all the way across the expanse of his sheets so how did they willingly end up here? How did they end up with her bare back pressed to his chest, her legs intertwined between his, and his arm wrapped almost protectively around her waist, wedged between her hips and the bed. 

Harry would never outright admit it but...he’s not necessarily mad about it. 

As he lays there for a few more seconds, absorbing the situation with an expression of pensive dismay pinching his face, he slowly comes to terms that he’s actually starting to enjoy this.

The warmth of her smooth skin gradually undoes the knot of confusion between his brows. The sensation of her back flushing against his chest as it rises and falls with her breathing erases the unease dipping the corners of his stinging mouth. The way she’s started to unconsciously rub her calves gently up and down his own makes the last traces of unsettlement melt off his face, replaced by an appearance of subtle affection, lips parting in blank wonder. 

Harry relaxes back into the plushness of the mattress, eyes remaining glued to a blissfully ignorant Y/N. His thoughts are scurrying around the inside of his skull, attempting to get accustomed with this new experience, having a difficult time arranging into place. He’s aware that he seems to be taking easily to what’s unfolding, but there’s an unsteady bubble inflating in his chest. He knows that if he lets himself dwell in this too much, it’ll end up biting him in the ass later, most likely as a wave of undealt emotions and crippling loneliness; that’s baggage he’s spent too many years compartmentalizing for it to all just come bursting out. 

All those decades of locking away his issues are in danger of resurfacing, and all for some harmless hugging? Doesn’t seem like a fair negotiation, and he knows plenty about negotiations. 

However, he can’t seem to make himself pull away. 

Especially not when Y/N suddenly shifts in her sleep, turning onto her other side so that she's now facing him, snuggling deeper into his body and tucking her head into the junction between his neck and collarbones. Her annoyingly soft, hot lips smear against his throat, settling into the dip at the center where a pulse would normally be present. The feeling of her exhales washing across his cold skin sends a wringing down his spine, a hushed “fuck…” escaping his dry mouth as the warmth behind the gesture spreads upwards, spilling redness into his cheeks and along the shells of his ears. Her hands come up as loose fists, pressing between his pectorals lightly, her own naked chest flushing against her forearms. 

Surprisingly enough, her supple chest isn’t at the forefront of his mind at this instant. Instead, he’s focused on the intimacy they’re sharing in this moment, unbeknownst to her and stressfully beknownst to him. 

Harry’s free hand acts of its own accord, coasting upwards towards her face and moving her chin over a bit until his palm can comfortably nurse her jaw. He rubs the pad of his thumb across her bottom lip slowly, every ridge and bump sending miniature shots of electricity surging through his veins, his eyes falling shut at this strange form of pleasure he hasn’t felt in ages. 

Y/N just looks so beautiful like that, in such a vulnerable state that he knows for sure no one else has ever gotten to witness— at least not in a very long time. 

No one else has gotten to see the way her lashes sit atop her cheekbones so delicately, her face soothed by sleep, not a wrinkle or grimace in sight. She looks as if she were made of porcelain, her features nothing short of perfect. No one has gotten to witness the way she mumbles a handful of incoherent, groggy words, her mind lost in a meaningless dream, or the way her nose twitches in the cutest manner as a draft from the air conditioning runs across it, causing her to sniffle. No one has seen the way she gives into his touch, her face cradling deeper into his hand, chasing the uncommon gentleness behind his demeanor and it hadn’t occurred to Harry that maybe— just maybe— she’s craving this type of innocent bliss, too, though he’s certain she would never confess to it if she were awake. 

Harry runs his hand down the slope of her bruised neck and across the curve of her shoulder, tracing the teeth marks he had left the night before. The tip of his fingers follow down the incline of her torso, wriggling around her side, his wrist resting upon the faint dip of her waist. He cups her lower back with his large hand, borrowing a moment to appreciate the way it fits flawlessly. He then leans forward some to give his reach more length, his digits carefully trailing up the middle of her spine, the action timid and tranquil. 

He looks down at her from over the tops of his colored cheeks, chewing on his bottom lip nervously as he continues to lull his fingers up and down her back. Y/N releases a shy whimper of gratitude, her whole body bathing in a light shiver. She does like it.

Harry swallows thickly, moving away a few locks of hair off her shoulder with the tip of his nose, glassy jade irises studying her facial expressions to make sure she’s still asleep. He puckers his tingling lips, pressing a bundle of chaste kisses to the fading bite marks on her staticy skin. If his heart still beat, he feels like it would be glowing right now. 

He tilts his chin up, settling it on top of her head and sighing in satisfaction as he feels her steady breathing wash across his Adam’s Apple, her flyaway hairs tickling his nostrils. 

He decides to stay like that for a while,  just basking in her company within this tender setting that he knows he probably won’t receive again anytime soon. Harry lays there, limbs woven between Y/N’s as his black-polished nails scratch gently at her back, swimming in his numb thoughts. 

After what feels like hours— but is realistically just ten minutes— he goes to gingerly shift the arm stuck beneath her body, trying to regain some circulation. Y/N stirs, resulting in him freezing in place to prevent a mishap, his mouth finding her warm forehead and placing a lingering kiss between her brows. It eases her. 

Harry waits five minutes before trying again.

He manages to escape this time around, lifting his arm above his head and twisting out the cramp in his wrist, then folding it behind his head. He allows his eyes to shut once again, intent on spending a bit longer milling in this bubble of domestic peace.

His plan is shattered to pieces by an alarmed, angry sentence. 

“What the fuck?”

His eyelids fly open, ice materializing across his entire nervous system. 

Shit.

Y/N launches upwards, sitting up rigidly with her face contorted in startled repulsion, clutching his blood red sheets to her chest as her hair stands up in tousled tuffs. “What in Lucifer’s red, barren hell are you doing?”

Harry now has two distinctive routes to pick from: confess to partaking in the unorthodox cuddling, or fake it and say he was asleep as well and that it had all been an unintentional mistake. 

It’s hardly a choice. 

He flings his arms away from the other demon’s body as if sickened, shooting up into a seated position and slouching back onto his palms, a look of agitated horror plastered across his sleepy, handsome features. “What do you mean what am I doing? What the fuck were you doing?”

Y/N blinks at him as if he’d just stabbed her between the eyes with a demon blade, irises momentarily flitting black with nerves, the area under her waterline webbing with dark veins. “What do you mean what was I doing? You were the one with your arms around me!”

Harry narrows his sight at her pointedly, thick brows furrowing with faux resentment. “You were the one with your head snuggled into my neck and your hands on my chest!”

“You were the one kissing my forehead!”

“You were the one rubbing up on my legs!”

“Because you were close to me!”

“Because you rolled over here!” 

“No I didn’t!”

“Oh, so what?” Harry snaps sarcastically, drawing forward and crossing his arms over his chest adamantly. “Did an angel sneak in and place you there? Because as I recall, you always sleep on the left side of the bed, so what were you doing on the right?”

Harry’s accurate counter renders Y/N speechless, her mouth parting quizzically as if waiting for a response to magically appear. Her eyebrows cinch down begrudgingly, the gears in her head spinning on overdrive, trying to piece together an appropriate rebuttal. Her grasp tightens on the blanket covering her bare body. “Well, I...I don’t know—I don’t think I—”

Harry cocks his head to the side expectantly, loose curls falling across his forehead as he shrugs his brows with a condescending air. He mimics her with a high-pitched voice. “Well, I— I don’t know— I—I don’t think I—I—I—”

Y/N’s face goes sour as heat floods her cheeks, fire threatening to spark across the tips of her sizzling ears. She yanks the sheets off of him, holding them with one hand as she uses the other to begin crawling across the bed towards the edge, a haphazard defense thrown over her shoulder. “Shut up! It wasn’t on purpose!”

Harry scoffs in dark amusement, not even bothering to cover himself up. He bites into his cheek to keep from exploding into a round of triumphant laughter; he can’t believe he managed to turn the tides so quickly. “Oh, so you admit it was you, then?”

Y/N dismounts the atrociously tall bed, stumbling over the long linens as she desperately searches for her clothes. “No! I’m just saying that whatever happened, it didn’t happen intentionally!” 

“Obviously.” The brunette demon snorts, shaking his head for subtle emphasis, crossing his ankles offhandedly and returning both arms to the place where one had been prior— tucked behind his head casually. “What do you think we are, mortal?” 

“Of course not.” Y/N agrees quickly— a little too quickly, which hints to Harry that she might be trying to cover something up. Perhaps she wasn’t as disgusted by this as she had led on…

He watches as his friend— he uses the term lightly— shuffles around his room, peering at the floor in an determined quest to find her jeans, underwear, and black lace blouse. Or maybe she’s just hellbent on avoiding eye contact with him. 

“Y/N…” His tone has lost its arrogantly mocking edge, softened by what she can only decode as...guilt? 

She ignores it and doesn’t answer, nearly passing out in relief when she spots her panties and bra hanging off the doorknob to his closet. She snatches them swiftly, panning her gaze around the rest of the room for her leftover clothes, spotting them in a pile sticking out from underneath the opposite corner of the bed. They’d probably gotten kicked there in the heat of the moment. 

Harry repeats himself a little louder, adding onto his comment to try and stifle some of the embarrassment radiating from her. “Y/N, you don’t have to leave. You usually stay for breakfast.” 

Y/N scoops up her outfit, settling it into the crook of her right elbow and squaring her shoulders as if ready to brace a hellhound. Their gazes lock and he feels his stomach flop when he sees the vulnerability she’s obviously trying to hide. She’s good at it, he’ll give her that, but if he stares intently enough, he can just make out the traces of conflicted longing leaking into the disinterested facade around her pupils. 

“It’s fine, Harry.” She sighs heavily, her tone drastically different from the unkempt girl that had been floundering about just seconds ago. She’s now calm, cool, collected, and scaringly so. “I have somewhere to be later. Meeting someone to close a deal.”

She shrugs one shoulder indifferently, grabbing a handful of the sheets arranged around her figure and pulling away, dropping the bedspread at his feet and leaving herself completely nude. 

And there she is, the Y/N he so well knows. The same one that uses sex appeal as a shield. 

She’s managed to spackle the cracks that had appeared in her typical barrier of heartlessness, her confidence and ease leveling off once again. She places her clothes on top of the crumpled sheets, picking out her cheeky bright red panties from the heap and working them up her tempting legs. Harry can’t help but notice the hickies covering her inner thighs, as well as the finger prints staining her hips. 

Y/N catches him ogling, smirking to herself now that she has her composure back in order. She hooks her index finger around one of the straps in her bra, lifting it up and bouncing the lace lingerie in front of him teasingly. She raises her eyebrows at her lover provokingly, a sultry air pouting her lips. “Think you can help a girl out?”

Harry licks at his slightly chapped lips thoughtfully, eyes flickering between the article hanging off her hand to the sly grin decorating the edges of her pretty mouth. When he speaks, it’s low and thicker than usual, accent heavy. “Of course, pet.”

His legs thunk emptily off the bed and onto the floor, a small grunt catching the back of his throat as he pushes himself up onto his feet. He is most definitely sore. 

His footsteps are soft against the carpeted ground, faltering as he rounds the corner of the mattress. 

Y/N eyes his every move, suckling her bottom lip at the way his muscles flex and contract under his sun-kissed skin. She doesn’t let herself wander below his waist though; she’s never one to pass up flaunting her power of will. 

Harry stops about a foot away, taking the bra from she is offering and holding it out for her to slip into. She does so at a mind-numbing pace, her toes curling as she feels his warm fingertips running the material up her arms and onto their designated spot on her shoulders. He tugs at the hooks gently, pinning them into place and tucking the tag in, exactly how he’s seen her do countless of times before. 

He then runs the palms of his hands up her arms, sighing softly at the silky sensation of her skin and giving her shoulders a dismissive squeeze. “All done.” 

Y/N turns on her heels to face him, looking up innocently through her lashes, lips quirking into an easy smile. “Thank you. Such a gentleman.” 

Her playfully seductive personality is unbearably contagious, seen in how Harry returns her action with a coy scoff and a simper of his own. “For you, always.”

“Well…” Y/N turns her lower half to the side, showing him her ass for significance, which is covered in the unmistakable print of his hand and rings. “I wouldn’t say always.” 

Harry’s pursed lips break into an even wider shit-eating grin, his cheeky laughter echoing across the walls of the apartment, his arms absentmindedly folding across his broad chest. “Yeah, well, you can’t say it’s one-sided, can you?”

He points towards his neck, stretching his chin upwards so that she gets a good view of all the fading love bites she’d left there the night before. 

Y/N’s giggles match his. “Touché.”

Harry rummages through his drawers as she finishes getting dressed, shimmying into her tight jeans and throwing her shirt on, finger-combing her hair into a decent state. He comes up with a pair of maroon briefs, slipping them on as he walks back towards her, letting the elastic band snap into place against his lower abdomen. 

The two demons with benefits stand before each other, Y/N with her braided black sandals swung over her shoulders and Harry with his hands fixed on his hips nonchalantly. 

“You really can’t stay for breakfast?” Harry inquiries one last time, lifting his eyebrows curiously. “I’m making those cinnamon bun waffles you like so much.” 

Y/N sighs grandly, clutching her chest dramatically as if it physically hurts her to decline his offer. “I’d love to, but work is work. Don’t really have a say.” 

Her friend nods in understanding, well aware of the truth behind her words. “It is what it is, then.” 

“However...” Her sudden continuation makes his head perk. She reaches up, carding her fingers into his messy curls and combing them back from his face, tucking a handful of rebellious ringlets behind his small ears and giving him one final self-assured smile. “Do y’think you could maybe save me two and I can come pick them up tonight?”

Harry cranes his head to the side, placing a slow peck to the palm of her hand and then biting into her skin jokingly, a certain lewdness painted all over the deed. “I think that can be arranged.”

“Great.” Y/N quips happily, wrapping his curls around her knuckles roughly and hauling him in for a sloppy, dirty kiss that leaves his teeth numb and his face buzzing. 

Once she breaks their mouths, lightly panting with her skin a darker shade than before, he has to blink three times in order to reign himself back in. His ability to form coherent sentences right now is about as useful as alphabet soup; he just gives her a jerky nod instead. 

Y/N wipes at his swollen lips with the pad of her thumb, giving his cheek a playful pat. “I’ll see you then, H.” 

Harry can’t tear his eyes away as she leaves, his bedroom door clicking shut behind her, the soft, distant thunk of his front door accompanying the sound a bit later. 

Fuck, that was something is the first comprehensible thought that registers in his mind. 

It was absolutely something and who knows how differently it would have gone if he had admitted giving into the weakness they had both sworn off of. 

That notion haunts him for a while— the idea that he could have driven her away for good if he had confessed that his emotions had bleed through their arrangement. Sure, it had only been this once, but Harry has a horrible gut-wrenching feeling that he’s unlocked a box deep in the back of his skull that won’t easily be chained down again. 

He thinks this over again and again as he prepares his morning meal, the looming uncertainties of it all causing him to check out of reality here and there, resulting in a few burn marks across his hands and two charred waffles in the bin. 

As Harry finally sits down to enjoy the food that had nearly not made it to his plate, he finds himself mentally running through the awkward encounter he and Y/N had faced this morning. He can’t stop himself from dwelling on the expression he had seen crack through her eyes earlier— one that showed she seemed to be feeling the same kind of emotional turmoil he was. It opens too many unanswered questions for their future and he hates himself for being so worried when nothing had truly happened. For all he knows, it could have just been a trick of the sunlight that had been streaming into the room. He’s getting himself out of sorts for nothing. 

However, as he goes in on a forkful of his cinnamon-glazed pastry, one pesky detail suddenly launches him into a coughing fit. 

It was so minuscule he had missed it the first fifty times he had run through the events, but it had decided to prick him in the brain now, the weak dam of reassurance he had built crumbling to ashes.  

After Y/N had woken up, saw what was happening, and their fight had ensued, she had made a comment about how Harry had kissed her forehead. 

On the surface, it had seemed unimportant because yes, that is exactly what he had done. The problem arose when he remembered that she had been dead asleep when he had done that. 

Supposedly.

He had gone to remove his arm from below her body, she had fussed a bit, he had pressed his lips to her forehead to ease her, and she had remained asleep for a while longer until he decided to finish removing his arm. That final motion was what had awoken her.

Supposedly. 

If she had been unconscious the whole time they were cuddling, then how did she know he’d kissed her?

[jackdaniel69nice]

Ninjago ATLA au Book 3: Earth

Books 1, Book 2

Harumi gathers her friends, Skylor and Vania to to help her find Lloyd

While in the swamp Lloyd learns from Bolobo about the connection between all living things and sees a bright flash of light and energy and two boys. He decides to follow the connection and arrives at the Walkers.

He meets Jay, an inventor and quite frankly a genius. He invites them to stay with them for awhile which is great because they’re firenation and fugitives and should stay out of big towns

When Lloyd mentions he’s searching for an earth bending master of course he points out Karlof, a strong man who’s said to be able to bend metal but his harsh treatment and cocky attitude don’t sit with Lloyd (or Kai) and Jay says he may know someone else.

They meet Cole at night. At first he’s off putting and cold (Jay said he would be, you just gotta warm up to him) and he’s suspicious of them but by Jay’s convincing he says he’ll “think about it”. Kai isn’t impressed and Cole puts him in the ground...literally.

They go into town to get supplies. They are quick to learn that the Walkers have a...reputation...here.

“Strange things go on out there girly don’t go associating with those people..”

“What do you mean?”

“Flashes of light, loud booms, quakes that shake the very mountain. It’s witchcraft.”

Unfortunately the attention had not escaped the local army and they tried to take them for “causing a public disturbance”. But Jay’s quick on his feet and leads them to a safe place, which just so happens to be Cole’s house.

Now they know Cole’s rich and dances competitively like his father, though he doesn’t seem to be happy about it. Cole takes them back through a tunnel, apparently the same one he had used yesterday to sneak out. The mysterious glowing lights guide them along. Cave of two lovers anyone ;)

They have a bit of fun talking, Cole really can be nice once he’s not so pent up. He says he’ll come by latter tonight. Jay say he wants to show them something. It’s an invention, he shows them the water wheel, a motor that generates electricity. It’s what made the lights in the tunnel and powers an assortment of other devices he has. Nya’s stoked (haha get it like to stoke the fire)

They are finished in a few days which is good because they have stayed in one place for a little to long and things are going to go sour. It turns out one of the people in the military was able to recognize Lloyd and sent for backup. An earth bending army is coming to capture them.

They meet nightly still. It’s mostly just chatting and relaxing. Of course the army ambushes them so Jay and Cole not only find out they are from the fire nation, but that Lloyd is the prince. There’s only a few moments to talk but even without much explanation Cole and Jay give them enough time to get to Ultra (is that a dragon!) and help them get away.

They have to make a decision, if they stay they’ll be arrested for treason, if they leave and go with them they will be leaving their families behind. Ed and Edna push for Jay to leave, only wanting his safety. Really they had already made their decision. They rejoin the others before they can get out of range.

It’s still not over yet though. Cole demands answers but they are able to get a hold of Ulta and start to bring them down. Cole tries his best to defend against the assailing rocks but is quickly overwhelmed. Lloyd can only watch as they fall into the arms of the earth nation army. When Cole gets injured it’s the last straw, his avatar state awakens and he decimates the army.

So now the earth nation, Cole, and Jay know the fire lord’s son is the avatar. They explain their past and struggles and how they need to defeat Garmadon before the solstice. Cole is still wary but understands their need for lying, more then they would know. Jay never really doubted them (in fact it’s really exciting, real life fire benders!) but he can’t help but wonder what’s going to become of his parents.

Other stuff happens like Morro and Wu’s traveling and the team facing off against Harumi. They meet a bunch of Pirates and Jay steals a lightning bending scroll from Captain Nadakhan (because Lloyd needs to learn duh! And maybe it will help me with some of my inventions... just a little) /

Cole’s mother died fighting in the war. They were very close and she taught him everything she knows about bending. It’s how he learns seismic-sense. Lilly always preached about about being one with the earth and nature and how important it it to give back to it just as much as you take.

Cole’s training is basically to climb a mountain and sit in a field of flowers and “listen to the earth”. They do this for days. Cole will tell stories and they’ll have a laugh. They bond a lot get to know each each other better.

But Lloyd is impatient, he doesn’t want to just sit around, people are dieing in this war and he needs to learn earth bending fast. They get in a fight. Lloyd says he doesn’t care about the stupid plants and needs to learn real earth bending. Cole decimated the entire field in an instant and leaves.

Lloyd is distraught, this place was where he got to know Cole and really become friends with him. He KNOWS this place deep down, right to his core. How it feels, how it moves, how it lives...but it’s all gone, buried under a mountain of rock and dirt. He cries and mourns, what has he done?

Jay talks to Cole who is just as upset and goes to talk to Lloyd, it’s almost night now and he still hasn’t come back. He tells Lloyd about Lilly. How the earth was something special he shared with her and was the only connection to her he has left. Cole wasn’t trying to teach him earth bending (I mean he was...), he was trying to connect to Lloyd, the same way he connected to his mother. Lloyd feels a lot worse after that but that wasn’t the point Jay was trying to make.

“If you felt that same connection he did, if you care about this place, then fix it”

“How?”

“Bend”

So he does

He works all night to remove the rubble. The next morning Cole comes back because Lloyd still didn’t come home. He finds the field, different but still familiar, has returned and a sleeping lloyd in a pile of crushed flowers. Lloyd immediately tries to apologize but Cole just wraps him up in a hug and they go back down the mountain.

They are traveling again and hear about the The Lost City of Ouroboros, a place filled with all knowledge guarded by a serpentine spirit. Obviously they check it out and discover the solar eclipse, they have an invasion plan. But with a cruel twist of fate Ultra is stolen right out from under Cole and they have to get to Ba Sing Sei on foot. Lloyd is torn up, he’s stressed, all he really wants to do is go home, for everything to back to how it used to. When they find the people who took Ultra...they never stood a chance.

They get to Ba Sing Sei and find it under attack. Using his technical know-how Jay is able to take out the drill from the inside. They get Ultra back and are eventually able to have a meeting with the earth king despite General Kozu and the Stone Army’s interference. Earth King Dareth agrees to help with the invasion plan after some coaxing.

The team temporarily splits up. Now that they arnt criminals anymore Cole and Jay are able to visit their parents. Kai and Nya receive word from the northern water tribe about possible information on what happened to their parents, Kai decides to go to the South Pole and look for them. Lloyd tries to master the Avatar state. Nya is excited to reunite with Pixal but Harumi worms her way in under the disguise of a Samurai-X warrior and takes over the Stone Army for herself.

Meanwhile Wu and Morro had opened up their own tea shop Steep Wisdom and are living pretty peacefully until Harumi captures Morro. They return to Wu telling them about Morro and Nya’s capture, they go to the crystal catacombs and the fight begins.

Lloyd finds that while he has an arsenal of elements to his call he can’t match up with Harumi’s abilities and the Stone Army. His avatar state becomes blocked once she tells him Garmadon sent her to kill him, and she does so.

Morro makes the wrong choice and sides with Harumi. He attackes Cole and Jay while Kai and Nya are busy fighting Skylor and Vania. Wu tries to stop him but he still ends up hurting Cole and knocking him out.

Jay’s weapons are shot and it’s easy to tell they’re losing, soon they will be captured. It’s a hard choice but with his friends in danger he would do anything to protect them. He uses lightning, not some little invention, real lightning bending. Who knew! (Probably you)

It gives them the edge they need for Kai and Nya to break free, they grab Lloyd and Cole and run. Wu gives them time and Nya has to use the spirit water to revive Lloyd. The earth kingdom falls.

Book 4

[yetanotherfanficblog]

Elation, Trepidation, Dejection, Destruction

Fandom: Final Fantasy XIV

Characters: Captain Jifuya, Male Xaela Aura Dark Knight Warrior of Light, Yotsuyu goe Brutus (mentioned)

Rating/Warnings: Mature (Mentions of past Sexual Abuse, Child Abuse, and Slavery, Slight Gore, Minor Character Death)

Summary: Hien refuses to judge Jifuya, and the Warrior of Light decides to take matters into his own hands. It is not the first time the Dark Knights have had to punish crimes that weak little lordlings would not, and it will not be the last.

Also on Ao3

It was with slowly dawning horror that Enkhjargal heard Jifuya unfold his story - of buying Yotsuyu from her abusive parents, of using her as a doll for his lecherous customers, of his eagerness, even, to specifically exploit her trauma, a story he told not with regret, but simply with fear that he might finally face consequences. Enkhjargal cast a look at Gosetsu. It was Gosetsu's choice, first, but surely, he'd understand this man could be no part of-

"...I see," Said Gosetsu, as Jifuya still cringed before him, "Then I shall recommend that you be assigned to a new post."

Enkhjargal took a step backward, a look of shock at Gosetsu that he quickly stifled. The practice of taking prisoners in war or camp raids was one thing, but this type of slavery, buying and selling of a person? He had seen Gosetsu's code in action, respected it. Did the code truly stop here? With allowing this buyer and seller of unwilling young women to continue as if his sin had been nothing?

Perhaps he only meant to leave the judgement to his lord. Yes. That must be it. Certainly, Hien would have the wisdom to deal with this properly. It was... not the best way to deal with it, frankly, in Enkhjargal's mind, but perhaps allowing Hien to serve justice would make Doma stronger in the long run, even it delayed the justice Jifuya so clearly deserved by a few hours.

---

"I would not presume to defend the life Jifuya led before he joined the Front," Said Hien, "Nor will I condemn it. Frankly, it is not my place to judge. I will only say this: the Jifuya I know has ever been a man of courage. That he should feel driven to flee bespeaks the depth of his terror. Even now, Yotsuyu casts a shadow over the realm..."

Enkhjargal narrowed his eyes. Had Hien just suggested that he would not condemn or judge bloody slavery-

No. Not here. Not like this. Confronting Hien right now is unlikely to change his mind.

But we must do something.

It won't be the first time we must dispense justice because some pampered noble lordling either couldn't or wouldn't.

And it certainly won't be the last.

He will be alone at some point. We only need to find out when, and where, and be there when he is.

Bide your time until then.

---

Enkhjargal kept his body language as casual as possible as walked out of the House of the Fierce - to get some fresh air, he had told his comrades. It wasn't even completely a lie, although mostly he meant to put as much space between him and Hien as possible, before he said something he might regret.

But before he did, he spoke to the sentry at the entrance of house of the Fierce, where it lead out to the fields of Doma once again.

"Have you seen Jifuya since he got back?"

"Oh! He stepped out again. Don't worry though, sir, he ensured me he was coming back this time. He's only off duty for a bit, at Lady Yugiri's suggestion."

"Hm. Do you know where'd go at times like this?"

"Well. I know he sometimes likes to head out past Monzen, to gaze at the Castle. Even though it's in ruins, it's still a grand view."

Enkjarghal nodded, "Very well. Carry on, Sentry."

The Sentry bowed as Enkhjargal strode past him, out of the House of the Fierce.

When he rounded the bend, he pulled out his whistle and blew a short blast. A few moments later, his Yol swept down the sky. Enkhjargal leapt upon her, and pointed her west.

---

Not his place to judge? By the twelve, it is EXACTLY his place to judge! What is the bloody point of having lords and kings if they will not judge the sins of the common folk and ensure their kingdoms protect the weak and prevent the strong from abusing their power? What in the Seven Hells is Hien thinking? Why are we freeing Doma if it will only perpetuate the sins of the Empire against the poor and orphaned and destitute? Will he create a hundred, a thousand new Yotsuyus, poor young folk, orphans and destitute, driven to hatred and desperation by their treatment of the hand of rich old lechers and greedy landlords and cocky soldiers, because he refuses to do his bloody duty?

The voice screamed at the back of Enkhjargal's mind as he flew his Yol toward the river, and Enkhjargal let it. It was right, as usual. Whether Imperial or not, Eorzean or Hingan or Xaela or otherwise, too many of these nobles and monarchs and generals were such selfish, shortsighted fools, interested in the path of least resistance, or their own comfort, and as always, it fell to the bloody warrior of light to fix it.

And fix it he would, one way or another.

His black-scaled tail twitched restlessly, angrily behind him as he flew on. ---

A few moments more, and he landed his Yol, patting it gratefully on the neck before taking a bit of Dzo jerky from his pack, holding it out letting the Yol nibble it from his hand.

"Wait here, my friend," he murmured, "I shall not be long."

He walked toward the river bank, and soon spotted Jifuya, staring out toward the ruins of the castle as the lookout had suggested. The man did not notice him. Enkhjargal's hand went to the spare dagger at his waist. He could end it now, with a well-aimed throw, or a shove of the dagger at just the right point on his spinal column-

No. Jifuya should KNOW. He should see it coming. He should face the weight of his sins, as we have. As all should.

So Enkhjargal walked closer, drawing his sword, ensuring the sound of scraping metal was just loud enough to be heard.

Jifuya leapt with a start and turned around.

"Oh!" He said, breathing a sigh of relief, "Hello, Lord Enkhjargal. I didn't expect to see you out here. I come here sometimes. Staring at the castle helps center me when I'm feeling a bit out of sorts."

"I know. I heard one of your comrades mentioning it. I had hoped to find you here."

"You... You hoped?" Jifuya said, his face confused.

"Yes. You and I have something to discuss."

"Oh! Of course! Anything for the hero of Doma," Jifuya said, smiling graciously, simperingly, "B... But what could you have to discuss with me?"

"Your Profession."

"My-"

"Before you joined the resistance. Was Yotsuyu your only victim? Did you kidnap your other girls? Buy some of them from slave markets? Seduce a few of them off streets, convincing them their only option to avoid homelessness was to work in your dens? Or did you simply buy them all from lecherous, greedy old monsters eager to pawn a daughter or a wife to pay off gambling debts, or just to move on to their next pretty plaything?"

"Wha- What?"

"ANSWER ME," Enkhjargal said, his voice rising in volume just a bit, infused with the dark anger of his other half, as he stepped closer, now towering over Jifuya.

"I-I- I was a legitimate businessman, I had the full sanction of the Em- I mean- I... I got my girls from a variety of places! But I- It was Imperial times! We all had to survive, one way or another-"

Jifuya stopped, cringed, looked up at Enkhjargal. Enkhjargal stared back.

"S-Some of them were there by choice..." Jifuya continued, whimpering.

"SOME of them," Enkhjargal repeated his words, stone-faced, monotone, putting just enough emphasis on the first to remind Jifuya of what it implied, that even more were there against their will.

If the man means to dig his own grave, who are we stop him?

"I. I know what I did to Yotsuyu was... not my best moment," Jifuya said, "But- But- I have heard what you've done! You fought her! Rumors say you can even stare into the past of your enemies! You've seen her sins firsthand! You KNOW she's a monster!"

"I am not here to judge her, Jifuya. I am here to judge you. But how, I wonder, did she become a monster? I have seen enough of her past to know she was not born that way."

He took yet another step closer to the Doman. Jifuya tried to step backward, but his foot nearly slipped off the enbankment. He looked back at the water, and Enkhjargal wondered for a moment if he was planning to try his luck in the swift current. Yet still, he turned back to look up at Enkhjargal, cringing.

"No, she was made a monster," Enkhjargal continued, "By neglectful, hateful parents. By a cruel, callous slavemaster who saw her pain and saw in it a way to put more gil in his pocket."

"I...I already said I felt shame-" Jifuya began to stammer.

"No you didn't," Enkhjargal said, his voice a low hiss, simmering with rising fury, "You said you were afraid of your past, not sorry for it."

"I-I- I'm saying it now! I'm sorry! I swear!"

"Remorse given at the last possible second out of fear is no remorse at all."

"P-Please! Hien already passed judgement! HE forgave me, sh-shouldn't you?"

"He is not my lord," Enkhjargal said, "And thus I have no reason to be bound by his judgement."

"It's a shame, really," Enkhjargal continued, "Maybe if he had done what a king should and put you on trial for your crimes, you could have gotten something softer, something that still served some sort of justice. Maybe exile, or a prison cell, or hard labor. Or restitution paid to Tsuyu and any other of your living victims. Some sort of thing to ensure that craven, beastly men like you will not be tolerated in his new kingdom. But instead, he'll let you go free."

"B... But he DID let me go, right? I'm free. He said so..." Jifuya's voice barely sounded as if it came from a human now, broken and whining as it was.

"Yes. He did. But Doma wouldn't be the first nation I've travelled in where the upper class are either too cowardly or too complicit to reign in the wicked and corrupt. And you know what I've done in those countries?"

"W-What's that?"

"This."

Enkhjargal raised his weapon, and as he did, dark crackles and swirls of aether played around every inch of his body, around his massive sword, as his inner flame finally unleashed, fueled by the anger and rage he'd being feeling every since he found out Jifuya's crime, ever since Hien refused to judge him.

"Oh Kami!" Jifuya cringed back, "Warrior! Please! Show Mercy!"

"The same mercy you showed Yotsuyu? Your other victims?" Enkhjargal answered, coldly, as he swung his sword downward.

Jifuya opened his mouth to scream, but Enkhjargal gave him no chance to sound the alarm.

The pieces of the former slaver's body fell silently into the River, the swift current carrying them out of sight in an instant.

---

"They might find out, you know," His Dark Double, Sometimes called Fray, sometimes Esteem, murmured at his shoulder, as Enkhjargal stood at the edge of the riverbank, still staring into its churning waters.

"No," Enkhjargal said, his mouth set in a grim line, "They'll never suspect me, I'm a hero, a bloody icon. Surely I would never harm as innocent a soul as the brave Jifuya, decorated Captain of the Great and Noble Doman Godsdamned Resistance. Besides. He already tried to run once, who says he didn't do it again? He must have slipped off into the night, too afraid of Yotsuyu - or feeling too guilty at a reminder of the weight of his sins."

"You have a point," Esteem said, with a dark chuckle.

"Besides, if they do find any part of his body," Enkhjargal continued, "They'll likely assume it was someone who died in the assault on Doma Castle. Even if the fish don't eat it first, the water should wear down the meat enough that no-one could tell for sure that it was him - or that he died quite some time after the end of that bloody battle."

"So that's one problem taken care of. But there's one left. How do we deal with Hien?"

"We watch, and we wait, like we always do," Enkhjargal answered, "I thought he had the strength to lead, but if he was too cowardly to judge Jifuya properly, perhaps I erred. So we watch. And if need be, we take action."

"Yugiri will not be happy, if it comes to that," Esteem noted.

"She won't," Enkhjargal said with a nod, "But I have hopes she won't let her love for her lord blind her should he continue to allow such gross oppression, and for all her loyalty, Yugiri's always been a friend of the oppressed. A Lord can only rule as long as they have the consent of their people."

"Hmph. We both know people consent to some messed up things. In exchange for a peaceful life, many would simply ignore the corruption which festers beneath the surface. Cast aside that which is dirty and broken. Speak not of things which would disrupt their dreary little lives."

"Many. But not all."

Enkhjargal could feel Esteem's smile at his shoulder, bemused, slightly bitter, but warm and genuine all the same.

"That we still have that optimism after all this time," Esteem said with a note of wonder, before switching thoughts, "Very well. As always, I shall follow your lead. But if the truth of the matter comes out as I suspect it will, and if you need help..."

"I shall clutch my crystal to my breast, and remember,” Enkhjargal said, fiercely, every word the truth. 

"Good."

And with that, he felt Esteem simmering no longer. He turned from the riverbank, and strode back toward his waiting Yol.

---

NOTE: Text in italics is meant to be the words of Esteem in Enkhjargal’s mind, ala Dark Knight job quest text in-game.

[sserpente]

A/N: Request from anon. Pure smut. Really. Enjoy. ;-)

Words: 2265 Warnings: smut smut smut

Oh, for Heaven’s sake! Frustrated, you closed your laptop shut and placed it on the empty space on your bed next to you. Porn was so obviously an exaggeration with women moaning in ecstasy at the slightest touch near their pussies and men with long and thick dicks that probably wouldn’t even fit into horses.

All you had meant to do was find some inspiration to get yourself off. The image of a strong man above you, pleasuring you by every trick in the book, doing hot things you had seen in some of the videos you had watched.

It was no use. As soon as you closed your eyes, your hand sneakily wandering down your body until you reached your dripping folds to tease yourself, the only man you saw in front of you was the Norse God of Mischief, his raven hair tickling your skin and piercing blue eyes devouring your naked form beneath him.

A sigh escaped your lips. You might as well… your fingers found your slit, gathering some of your wetness to circle your clit lazily. The simple touch made you shiver, your body arching its back in joyful anticipation of what was to come all the while the one you imagined exploring your soaking cunt was him, with long and soft digits taking the time to examine you.

Loki had been dominating your thoughts for weeks, months. It had all started during a risky mission, one that had almost cost you your life if it weren’t for Loki who saved you. Before that, he had been the mysterious, cocky but also restrained little brother of Thor, the bad guy and handsome god of trickery you occasionally imagined fucking. His heart was locked away in a chest, out of reach even for him—but on that day, you got to see a very different side of Loki.

His stunning blue eyes had been sparkling with concern for you, his body shielding yours in the most vulnerable manner. He had carried you back to the helicarrier without so much as any hesitation, ensuring the doctors on board would treat your wounds.

Loki was so much more than he let on; not only pleasing to the eye and skilled with a mischievous nature… but he was a good man. A good man with a warm heart which had been hurt, sliced and cut open one time too much, a heart which he himself was afraid of to lose to darkness and evil.

You loved his dominant aura, picturing the things he could do to you in bed… and yet you longed to see his soft side again, the side he hid so well from the Avengers and SHIELD because to them, he would always remain the war criminal. The villain.

The thought excited you, your hand starting to move faster. Loki would bury his face between your legs, ravishing your cunt like a sweet dessert, his skilled silver tongue working its magic on your sensitive bundle of nerves until you begged him for your release. And only after forcing you into countless orgasms that left you sweating and screaming his name, he would push your legs wide apart for access and sheath his huge and hard cock deep inside you.

The God of Mischief had, of course, not the vaguest notion of your growing feelings for him. For all he knew, the whole compound loathed him for his actions in the past. Sometimes, secretly, you imagined walking up to him determinedly, in front of the entire crew and the Avengers and kiss him senseless to shut them up.

Gods, you were so wet…

“Loki…” You moaned, throwing your head back into your pillow. “Loki…”

 -

They hated him. And of course, how would they possibly not? Thor’s own hostility had driven a dagger into Loki’s tormented and tainted heart and now he remained as what he had been born—the outsider.

For all he knew, his help on various missions as well as the fact he had saved countless human lives ever since his return to Midgard was considered but a means of compensations for his actions in New York. Actions which he had not been entirely responsible for and yet, even his own brother refused to listen to his one attempt to explain himself. He should not be surprised.

This shortly before Halloween night, causing some mischief around the compound was the least he could do. He was a Trickster, always had been. If a good laugh upon seeing the famous Avengers scream and howl in fear posed his only reward for tolerating his new life on Midgard, then so be it.

Tonight, it was your turn—and since sleep would rarely come to him these days, the subconscious fear of the nightmares returning too great—and reading through Stark’s library proved to be ineffective, he might as well have some fun with triggering eye-watering reactions by casting eerie shadows, turning objects into snakes, skulls and body parts and even shapeshifting into repulsive creatures from the horror movies they all liked to watch so much at this time of the year.

Smirking to himself, he approached your room, knowing you never locked it at night. He knew you were terrified of the scary dead girl from “The Ring”. If he was lucky enough, you’d even jump into his arms for protection. He had very much enjoyed taking care of you before. The way you had clung onto him, trusting him with your life during that one fateful mission… quite frankly, you were the only Avenger in the compound he, so he had admitted to himself, had taken quite the liking into.

Loki was as quiet as a mouse when he turned the doorknob and peeked inside your room. The lights were out, your petite form, to his anyway, moving on the bed and breathing heavily in your sleep. He was about to send an illusion of the horror girl into your room when he suddenly heard it.

You were moaning his name.

-

You were close, so close, so close! Moving your hand furiously now, you applied just enough pressure to trip over the edge. You imagined Loki wrapping his arms around your hips dominantly, his tongue greedily lapping up your juices and his blue eyes locking with yours as you came undone for him. Your walls clenched around emptiness, longing to feel his cock inside of you, your orgasm rippling through you like thousands of waves of electricity.

“Ahhh… Loki!” You screamed, bucking your hips in a desperate attempt to ride out your climax.

Loki swallowed thickly, his trousers tightening with a start. You were not asleep. You were wide awake. You were… masturbating to the thought of him?

He gnashed his teeth, a sudden hunger awakening in his body. Having your small body in his arms, it was one thing… fucking you roughly to satisfy both his and your carnal needs was entirely another. The urge to join you on the bed rose, to force your legs apart, smell your arousal and bury his hardening length deep inside you, giving you what you so obviously craved.

You wanted him. It had been a while since a woman had longed for his touch instead of Thor’s.

Another moan escaped your lips as you withdrew your fingers from your dripping pussy. Covered in your juices, you simply wiped them off on your bedsheets, then turned over and closed your eyes, hoping that the relaxing orgasm would help you fall asleep faster.

Loki smirked to himself. If he held such power over your thoughts and imagination, he might as well hold power over you for real. Now, there was another way to scare you a little.

Without making a sound, he treaded into your room, approaching you hungrily. When was the last time he had shared his bed with a woman, satisfied his most carnal needs?

Before he could change his mind in fear of rejection, he pressed his palm against your mouth to keep you from screaming. You reacted instantly, thrashing around and struggling, attempting to strike your attacker.

Loki shushed you. “It’s me, little mortal.” You calmed down just a bit, attempting to say his name through his hand. “And I must say,” he continued. “That was quite a tempting show you put on for me. You could have just asked, you see… perhaps I would have taken pity and satisfied you. I can be a merciful god, after all.”

Loki’s voice was hoarse, your eyes widening upon hearing those dirty words coming out of his mouth. This was too good to be true. Surely, you were dreaming, even though… even though it felt so real. How could he… had he… was he watching you cumming and screaming his name?!

A moan escaped your lips, your arousal heating up your body faster than a lightning bold.

“Would you like me to take care of your needs?” Loki whispered darkly. “All you need to do is say the word.” He needed your consent, needed to know that this was what you really wanted. He was many things but he was not cruel. He liked to manipulate and trick but he would not force a woman to give him pleasure if she not wished to do so herself.

Unsure of what to expect, he removed his hand from your mouth. You were panting. “Yes… Loki, please do.”

Loki growled. It was all he needed to hear. Impatiently, he climbed on the bed, hovering above you like a predator all the while freeing his hard manhood from his black leather trousers. If only you could see him properly in the dark… for he adored the way your lips parted, tongue flicking out in joyful anticipation of what was to come.

Your legs fell apart willingly when he forced himself between them. What by the Norns had come over him? Devouring a woman without having courted her properly? His mother would have chided him and yet… the lust filling the warm air in the room clouded his mind like the moist autumn fog in the mornings.

“Loki…” You croaked out of breath, overwhelmed by the wonderful sensations he elicited. His skin against yours, his hands exploring your curves, kneading your breasts and playing with your nipples until they hardened under his touch and then, suddenly, he reached down to grab both your wrists and hold them down to both sides of your head, immobilising you.

You whimpered, afraid of losing your mind in this tornado of pleasure threatening to tear you high up and away, even more so when you felt his hard and warm length pressing against your dripping entrance. You moved your hips up, eager for him to sink himself inside you but Loki took his time, making sure he would not hurt you—claiming you agonising inch by agonising inch.

He growled like a wolf once he had finally sheathed himself inside your welcoming heat, your walls moulding around him like your body had been made for him. You threw your head back, exposing yourself to him devotedly, and when he withdrew and thrust back into you, you moaned his name so loudly you feared the others would hear you.

“Does that feel good, my sweet little mortal? Is this not better than your own hands bringing pleasure upon that tight quim of yours?” He muttered into your ear, his cool breath sending pleasant shivers up and down your spine as you climbed the ladder of orgasm higher and higher.

Loki fucked you both gently and roughly at the same time, his cock filling you so perfectly hitting all the right spots.

Unable to respond, you simply nodded, your hips bucking to meet his eager thrusts until you were ready to burst into a million pieces.

“Don’t you dare cum yet,” you suddenly heard him order out of breath. You swallowed thickly.

“L-Loki… please…”

His chuckle was dark but soon replaced by his own animalistic grunts as he neared his climax. Loki picked up his pace, rutting into you wildly and relentlessly. His lips came crashing down on yours, abusing your mouth for a passionate kiss which left you breathless. Oh, oh, you were going to…

“Loki, please!” You shrieked.

“Cum! Cum around my cock, now!” The God of Mischief choked out, stilling as he came and spurted ropes of his seed deep inside you, marking you all the while you obeyed him helplessly, your own high washing over you like a tidal wave. You clenching around him rhythmically, milking his cock for all it was worth.

Loki rocked into you a few more times, helping you ride out both your orgasms until he collapsed on top of you completely spent, only now letting go of your wrists. For a brief moment, neither of you moved but enjoyed each other’s bodies, still joined, and listened to each other’s rapid heartbeats and breathing.

Eventually, he withdrew, leaving you feeling empty at the loss of his now slowly softening length. He sighed. This… this had been amazing. Too amazing to be true. Perhaps it would be for the best if you believed it had been but a wet dream, his irrational fear of rejection returning with a start and hitting him in the chest like Thor’s hammer.

Loki pressed a tender kiss on your forehead, making you smile as your eyes closed before he reluctantly pulled up his trousers and left the room so he would not forget himself and pull you in his arms, bathing in the affection you had just showered him with.

-

A/N: No worries. Read Part II here.

Check out my blog to find more Imagines and take a glimpse at my first (to be) published novel! Also, if you enjoyed this story, I would appreciate so much if you supported me on Kofi! ko-fi.com/sserpente ♥

[enkelimagnus]

Cookbook

Bucky Barnes Gen, 1694 words, rated T for Hydra shit

Jewish Bucky Barnes, pre TFATWS, post Endgame

Bucky walks home from a long day of paperwork. On his path is a garage sale and a tired woman.

TW: cigarettes, smoking

Read on AO3

Part 2 of Making a Home - the Jewish Bucky series, Part 1 here, Part 2 here

----------------

Bucky smokes on the way home from work.

Everything that brought some sort of pleasure was a currency back in his day. That was why they sent cigarettes to the front. It was easy to make them necessary, when you were under constant fire and needed something to keep you going. Anything that got you out of that hell was traded for, fought for. Some days, it was like nothing mattered more than the next ration shipment and its load of cigarettes, pin-up magazines and six-pence books.

In truth, he doesn’t have the habit he used to have. Hydra wouldn’t have that. Upside of brainwashing, he guesses. And it’s not like it burns the same way anymore. That’s the serum for you.

Still, sometimes, he pulls a cigarette out of its gore-decorated cardboard box, lights it and pretends it has the same effect on him now than it did back in muddy camps or candle-lit living rooms.

The day has been long. No raids, but he’d been stuck behind a desk doing fucking paperwork for the last two weeks-worth of missions. His reports are tired and concise, he hates doing them and he’s pretty sure it’s obvious to anyone who reads what he writes.

He wishes he could smoke then , at that stupid cramped desk, to make the endless signing and reading and writing easier, but you’re not allowed to smoke inside anymore. So he finds himself doodling on other pieces of paper when his mind drifts. His focus is not the best outside of missions.

He used to love writing shit. Steve had his drawings and Bucky had his words, in between everything else. They wrote stories on notes they passed in class in high school. When it got taken by the teacher, no one could understand what they were talking about. He used to make up worlds and think of men walking in space, and he wishes he could tell his 14-year-old self that there are people in the sky, and that he’ll meet them one day. That he’ll see aliens, real ones, and punch them in the face.

He would tell him all the good things about the universe, all the people in it, all about partners in crime and arms like Dugan or Morito or Jones, or Sam or Natasha, how he not only met Howard Stark but was his comrade, how Stark knew him as “Sergeant Barnes” or “Sarge”.

He’d tell him all the good, and none of the bad, none of how his dad would die in two years and he’d be leading the family in shabbos prayers at 16, none of how the people in the world could be cruel for the sake of their own fun, none of how Howard Stark said his name in shock before he punched in his skull with the metal fist that was now his left hand.

Those conversations with his younger self -- barely a man, already smart-mouthed and charming and cocky in the way teenagers are and in the way Bucky had tried to remain for as long as he could until the war drained it out of him -- evaporate in the smoke, in the cold Brooklyn air.

He doesn’t love writing anymore. His mind can’t create the worlds it used to make. He thinks in three languages on a good day, only knows how to write one of those, so whenever he tries, something’s always missing. On a bad day, he can barely string along one sentence, let alone tell a story.

And he’s got no one to tell them to, anyway.

It’s 7pm and the streets are dark and icy. In the last few weeks, the gloves he always wears to hide his left hand have not been an incongruous fashion statement.

It’s January now. There was snow last week, a soft blanket that made him fucking cry out of nowhere when he saw it through the window. It was gone soon, but it was there. And for once, it didn’t fall on Siberia. It fell on Brooklyn again. He never would have thought he’d seen snow on Brooklyn again.

That kind of shit pulls memories out of him like nothing else, and he’s thankful for them. They make it easier and harder at the same time.

He told Doctor Raynor about the shul that’s now a church, about how it was the worst pain he’d felt since he’d last been wiped. How that’s another reason why he doesn’t want to walk into Becky’s retirement home and see her as she is now. The pain of time lost is the worst one to bear.

That, and he’s pretty sure she knows what he’s done. His name and photo have been blasted on every news channel and every social media website after the UN bombing. There’s no way she wouldn’t recognize him, when he looks so similar to the brother she lost.

He has no desire to face his Becky now that he’s a murderer and a weapon of mass destruction, Hydra brainwashing or not. You don’t do that to your little sister.

Besides, she doesn’t need him. She’s got kids and grandkids and great-grandkids, and nephews and nieces and every sort of relative you can imagine except for parents and siblings. She’s taken care of, they visit her often, she doesn’t need the grief he’d bring. He can’t be selfish.

He stops to stab the butt of the cigarette into a wall but his eyes catch something else.

In the cold evening, there’s a few lights set up on the sidewalk, over some makeshift tables threatening to crumble over all the items on it. Everyday items mostly, kitchen stuff, books and a clock and some candlesticks.

At first glance, all of the pricier stuff has been sold already, and there’s a tired-looking middle-aged woman sitting on the stairs of the house behind the tables. She has a look on her face, heavy with emotions muddled so well they’re impossible to tell apart.

“Buy what you want,” she says. Her voice doesn’t carry. He’s pretty sure he wouldn’t have heard more than a mumble if his hearing wasn’t enhanced. “Pay what you want.”

How many times has she said that today?

He looks down at the items for a moment, the cheap metal candlesticks, some old plates decorated with blue flowers, a still plastic-wrapped, never used, frankly hideous challah cover, and a pile of various books. Most in English, a couple in what he assumes to be Polish, some in Yiddish. His eyes fall on one in particular, a cookbook. It looks old.

“Can I touch?” He asks, pointing at the cookbook.

The woman nods. “Yeah. Nothing very modern in there. Bubbe barely even made this anymore,” she explains. Ah. A bubbe passed and the stuff they can’t keep, they’re selling.

The cookbook’s unremarkable. It’s been used, obviously, there are stains of chocolate-covered fingerprints on some of the dessert pages as he flips through. It seems to be half in English and half in Yiddish. He reaches the page where the publication date would be. He doesn’t even know why he’s checking.

Entire Contents Copyrighted 1949 The B. Manischewitz Co. Printed in the U.S.A.

1949. It’s close enough. Really close enough.

“How much do you want?” He looks up at the mourner.

“I told ya, it’s how much you’re willing to give.”

Bucky makes an annoyed sound at the back of his throat. He rephrases the question. “How much do you want me to give?”

The woman makes eye contact again. She looks deeply surprised by his question. Hesitant, too. She has no idea what to reply.

He fishes his wallet out of his pocket, starts going through the cash he has. He barely uses his credit card. Every month, when he gets his money from the army, he immediately withdraws most of it. It’s safer that way, and he knows how much he’s spending.

He counts out 180 dollars. It feels like a ridiculous amount for a cookbook, but the woman’s selling her bubbe’s shit like this, she’s still out at 7pm in January in Brooklyn and Bucky doesn’t have a lot of expenses anyway. He doesn’t really have expensive taste. 18’s a good number too, at least, it used to be, in his day.

“Peace be upon her,” He says quietly, when the woman opens her mouth at the bills he places in her hand. “It’s getting cold, you should go back inside,” he adds, quiet and coaxing, the tone he used to use when the neighbor’s son, Aaron, had a tantrum and sat on the stairs all evening, pretending to be mad at his parents.

Did he know the bubbe in question? Was she one of the kids from Hebrew school? It’s a little too far from his old neighborhood to be sure. He’s not going to ask.

The woman sighs a little, putting the money in her pocket when she realizes he’s not going to take any of it back.

He eyes the tables for a moment. “You need help packing up?”

She hesitates. He gets it, he’s a weird stranger who just bought an old cookbook for 180 dollars, it’s nighttime… He can’t tell her he’s not a serial killer, because he is one, and there’s going to be a moment where she remembers where she’s seen his face before. There usually is.

He holds his hands up, seemingly showing he’s harmless. It’s hilarious, really, because he’s never harmless. But contrary to Steve, he’s not massive. He’s more on the lean side of things, especially with his new arm.

“No pressure.”

She hesitates still, but he sees the exhaustion working away at her until she nods. The cookbook is put to the side and he helps her pack up the tables and the remaining things. He is careful not to display too much strength, and he’s also careful to keep his face in a neutral but positive sort of mask. His resting expression is meaner than needed.

He comes home much later than he thought he would, but he’s got a cookbook and some ideas of how to occupy his amnesia-riddled nights.

[missnight0wl]

Is the Statue Curse even the real Vault curse?

I have to say, I was truly disappointed when the Statue Curse appeared so early in Y6. I was hoping that this year would be dedicated more to our relationships, some digging in the past of Jacob and Rakepick – you know, calm before the storm. Because currently, we basically have two options: either we’ll break the Curse (leaving Y7 to who knows what), or the Curse will last for over a year. And frankly, I don’t like either of those options. Having Y7 without the Cursed Vaults would be kind of like… I don’t know, killing Voldemort in the sixth book and leaving the seventh one for dealing with remaining Death Eaters. And letting people be statues for so long would be just cruel (not that we do much to help them anyway, but shhh…). 

But what if the Statue Curse is not even connected to the Sunken Vault? What if the final vault has a different curse – which is already active – but we’re just missing it? I had this idea for the first time when Hagrid mentioned that Grindylows in the Black Lake are “overly aggressive”. And yes, it does make sense on its own since the Vault is in the Black Lake, so it would disturb them. However, perhaps the real curse could similarly affect people as it does with the creatures, meaning exaggerating their traits (especially those negative ones). A lot of our friends’ behaviour is indeed quite extreme recently. The thing is that it can be explained by the events of the story... Still, let’s take a look at some examples.

Ben’s need to be a protector makes sense on its own because he believes that if he was braver, he could’ve done something to stop Rakepick in the Portrait Vault. However, if he’s additionally affected by the curse, it’d explain why his change is so very drastic.

Merula’s need for revenge makes sense on its own. And while I personally don’t think she improved enough to talk about regress, it also makes sense that she’s more prickly again in Y6. However, if she’s additionally affected by the curse, it’d explain better why she’s so radical and sees killing as the only solution.

Similar goes to the Haywood sisters. Beatrice went through a traumatic experience, so her change is understandable. It’s also understandable that Penny is so protective over her. However, the curse could explain better why they can’t see each other’s points of view.

Ismelda and MC definitely bonded in Y5, both in “Crushed” SQ AND in the O.W.L.s TLSQ. Yet, Ismelda is back to being cold and seemingly hating MC, as if the bonding from Y5 didn’t happen at all.

And here’s something newer which actually made me think about this theory again: Jae. Maybe it’s just me, but I feel like in the recent chapters he became way more… cocky. And again, Jae was always pretty smug, or at least he liked to appear so. But compare those two situations:

Y5Ch8:

Y6Ch30:

Sure, he probably wanted to cheer MC up in the latter example, but still… it’s a HUGE change in his self-confidence. 

Overall, the subtlety of everything I mentioned above is what makes this idea so intriguing to me. Because the current circumstances make it almost obvious to occur, but maybe there’s something more to it. And how can you try to break the curse if you’re not even noticing it? If you’re not even aware it’s active? THIS is what would make the final curse really dangerous in comparison to the previous ones.

Also, another thing that makes me suspicious about the Statue Curse is that there’s no mention of it ever occurring before. None, zero, nada. And we had something about every previous curse.

In fact, the only reason why we assume that it’s connected to the Cursed Vaults is because of Snape suspecting so. But I’m sorry, who the hell are you, Severus, to even give such opinions? (To be fair, he’s probably quite competent and knows way more than he admits, but you get my point…) 

And yeah, I know that we’re supposed to believe that Jacob was trapped, so he didn’t go for the next vault and its curse presumably wasn’t active. Still, 1) everything about Jacob being trapped is bullshit, 2) in the Weird Sisters TLSQ, we learnt that R was once in the Sunken Vault already.

I suppose it’s possible that they entered the vault without activating the curse, or the curse was active too short to take any victim… It’s still pretty fishy to me, though (pun not intended).

All right, but then, what about the Trident we found in the Portrait Vault? After all, it was said that the victims look very similar to the material of the Trident. Well, I suppose that both the Statue Curse and the Trident could be clues to lead us to Merpeople who have information about the real curse, or something like that. Let’s remember that Rakepick asked Binns and Pince to research Merpeople:

Unsurprisingly, we’re ignoring it totally, narrowing everything down to: “the final vault has to be in the Black Lake!”… But it’d be neat if it was also Rakepick who decided to put the Trident in the column - as I believe she was behind putting there the Portkey back to Hogwarts. And yes, I’m basing it on one single line from Y5 when we were asking House-Elves about the vault portrait:

Anyway, to be completely honest, I don’t really expect Jam City to pull something like that off. And even if they do, most players would probably think it’s a poor excuse for their writing. Heck, it likely is just bad writing, at least in cases like Ismelda, for example. 

Still, as a concept, I think it’s a pretty interesting idea. And I suppose I’d like it better than ending the curses this year entirely, prolonging it for Y7, or discovering that there’s a secret sixth vault when it was said there’s five of them from the very beginning (and there was no clue that it might not be true).