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thepenultimateword · 2 years ago

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Claws and Fangs

The werewolf stretched across the large bearskin rug, the half-moon's pale light draped ethereal across their shoulders. The last several hours had been spent in lazy quiet, the fire in the hearth filling the empty room with warmth and light crackling.

The werewolf hated it.

At the other end of the house, the front door creaked open, jolting them upright with twitching ears and crazed intent. The rug skidded out from their feet as they pushed off down the hall. Even in their human form, they were always dominated by the feral instinct of their condition.

"Fangs!" the werewolf cried, bowling their lover into the entryway table before the vampire could even finish removing their earrings.

"Hey! Hey!" the vampire cried, shoving them back while simultaneously chuckling at the nips and kisses the werewolf littered their face and head with. "Give me some space to breath."

The werewolf reluctantly undraped themselves from the vampires shoulders and stepped a few inches back. "You were gone for ages."

The vampire finished undoing their second earring--a ruby drop on a long gold chain that reached to a cuff on the rim of their ear--and dropped it into the overstuffed jewelry bowl on the tabletop. "Clan gatherings are rather hard to put together when we live so spread apart, so they tend to go long. No one wants to say goodbye first. It's sort of like you're pack."

The werewolf winced.

Sure. Sure, it was like a pack. The werewolf may have never met the vampire's family, but they didn't need to see how close-knit they were to know it was nothing alike. If it were, the vampire wouldn't be here. Or well...perhaps they would, considering, but...well, still. They all lived so separate.

"What?" The vampire's slender index finger traced the furrow in their brow.

"I left my pack. For you."

The vampire's face immediately twisted up in confusion and something akin to defensiveness, amber eyes flashing, teeth just poking out from their under lips. "And?"

"I'm just saying..."

What were they saying? Of course, the vampire should be allowed to visit their family. Did the werewolf want them not to because they were jealous? That was a horribly selfish thing to wish. It wasn't as if they'd been forced to leave their own family. They made a choice.

They just wished they'd known beforehand how it would feel when they left. Like having something amputated--or being something amputated, a mere limb of a bigger whole, useless without the rest of them attached.

It was worse that the vampire's house was so big and solitary and far away from everything. Whenever they left, the werewolf felt like they might go insane from the quiet. That is if the soul-crushing loneliness didn't get them first.

No. Stop it. Their lover was back now; they shouldn't be thinking about this. They should be happy to see them, not upset that they left them behind in the first place.

The vampire raised their brows as the werewolf trailed off. "You're saying...?"

"Maybe you should bring me."

The vampire's breath hitched in their throat. "What?"

The werewolf wasn't exactly sure what that tone meant. Surprise? Offense? Was there a rule against inviting werewolves to inner family gatherings? In any case, they found themselves blabbering a retort.

"I'm with you, so that makes me technically part of the clan. That's how it would work in the pack at least. So, I definitely should be going to clan reunions with you from now on. I mean, I think it would be better that way. I haven't even met your family yet. You sort of met mine; it's not fair if I don't meet yours."

"I don't think that's a good idea," [Vampire] grimaced.

"Because I'm a werewolf...?"

"Because of lots of reasons. Look, I love them, but they're not always great. Why do you even want to meet them? Haven't we been fine on our own?"

"I'm a werewolf without a pack," they said bluntly. "I'm not fine."

The vampire's intense gaze fixed on them, really fixed on them. Maybe it was a vampire thing, but whenever they did that, it made Werewolf's skin crawl, like needles prickling from the inside out instead of from the outside in. They must really be thinking about this. They quickly regretted their statement; the vampire had done a lot for them. It really would be selfish to ask for more.

Suddenly, the vampire scooped them into a bridal carry, evoking a sharp yelp from the werewolf's throat. Despite the werewolf being the bulkier one in the relationship, the vampire was never remiss to remind them who was stronger physically. Luckily the werewolf liked being babied.

"Alright," the vampire said. "If it means that much, you can come."

The werewolf yipped, craning their neck to snuggle beneath the Vampire's chin. They must have snuggled a little too hard though because the vampire groaned softly through their teeth as their mouth was forcefully snapped shut. Instead of letting them back down though, they simply grumbled the next piece of news through the spaces in their molars.

"Since a few of the clan are sticking around a while, the next reunion is in two weeks. I've been pressed to spend an entire weekend. I originally said no so as to not leave you alone, but if you're coming along..."

"Yes! Yes, yes, yes!" The werewolf couldn't control their excited squirming. If it was the time of the month for a tail, it would be wagging. "I'll be super polite and impressive! Thank you!"

"It's really not that exciting though." They had to readjust the werewolf in their arms to keep them from slipping, also taking the opportunity to tip them back and look directly into their eyes. “I don't want you to be disappointed when it turns out to be a bunch of stuffy old people hanging out."

The werewolf tried not to fall into a drooling daze as they stared into their lover’s hypnotic gaze. They weren’t sure if it was the vampire part or the being totally smitten part, but somehow they were always losing themselves in that molten amber stare.

“You’re only a little stuffy.”

“Oh, really?” The vampire grinned exposing the full glory of his elongated fangs. “Well, you’re only a little chaotic.”

“Only a little? I better step up my game.”

“Don’t push your luck, Claws.”

The vampire nuzzled their face, fangs skimming down their cheek before pressing their mouth with a gentle kiss.

***

The werewolf’s suitcase was nearly packed to overflowing. Mostly because the vampire had stuffed it with about a dozen different changes of clothes that they'd never even seen before, let alone worn.

"Dinner, tea, eveningwear, nightwear," they verbally labeled as they laid out each clothing set.

"What's this?" the werewolf said, picking at a silken charcoal suit complete with an emerald floral vest and tie. The thread making up the design was colored a glimmering gold--or was that real? The werewolf really wouldn’t put it past them.

"Dress clothes. In case we do something fancy."

"Is doing something fancy, likely?"

They already weren't liking the look of that tie. They bet that gold thread was scratchy.

"60/40."

Ok, too much of a chance to convince Vampire it was unnecessary, but perhaps there were other ways to make them ditch it.

“And it’d really matter what I wear? You really change clothes this much when you visit?”

The vampire blinked at them as if they’d just said they planned to walk around the whole visit in the nude.

“Yes.”

“Ok, ok.” The werewolf held their hands up defensively. “I’ll wear the suit.”

And so here they were, a little after 6 o’ clock, hefting their overly large bag into the back of the vampire’s sleek black car. The sun had gone down a little less than an hour ago, and though the windows in the car were all tinted dark to keep out the terrible, deadly blaze of the sun, the vampire still always preferred to drive at night.

"Claws!" the vampire called as they hesitated by the trunk of the car, deciding whether this was actually a terrible idea. They really only had experience with the one vampire. What if this wasn't a cure to their loneliness but a bigger assurance that they were making a mistake?

"Claws!"

The werewolf jolted, quickly slamming the trunk closed and sliding into the passenger seat. "Sorry."

"You ok?"

"Mm. Just nervous."

The vampire laughed lightly, something between amused and nervous. "I'd say don't be but..." They shifted the gear into drive and began the long winding descent from their villa. "Maybe it is best if your guard is a little up this weekend."

The werewolf tipped their head. "You think they're going to hurt me?"

"Physically? No. Emotionally? Well...that depends."

"On what?"

"On how they take it."

"Take what?"

The vampire briefly took their eyes off the leaf-blanketed drive to nod in their direction.

It struck the werewolf like a bag of rocks.

"Wait. You haven't told them about me?"

"I have. Just not...details."

"So my species...?"

"Never came up."

"Ugh!" A low growl vibrated in the werewolf's throat, and they slammed their fists on their knees. "I can't believe you!"

"It wasn't exactly easy to bring up."

"'I'm seeing a lycanthrope.' There. That easy."

The vampire's gloved hands creaked on the steering wheel, amber eyes pinned straight ahead. "You obviously don't understand what it's like for me."

"I told mine."

They weren't certain whether it was meant as an argument or a comfort. Certainly, they understood more than anyone else what it was like to confront one's family with such irregular news. There were reasons vampires and werewolves typically kept to their own kinds. The reaction to their sudden declaration of love hadn't exactly been smooth, but it had been a relief. Having everything in the open was easier than holding their feelings, heavy and secret, to their chest.

"That's different. They weren't actually your family."

The werewolf went rigid. Such a response didn't even merit a growl.

The vampire pressed their toe to the break, coming to a stop in the middle of the pitch black road. Their eyes glinted in the dark as they turned to face them.

"That came out wrong. What I meant was, you weren't born into your family, you were chosen. The expectations are different."

"They expect me to be happy," the werewolf challenged. "Don't yours?"

The vampire sighed deeply, slowly revving the car back up to the speed limit. "It's not that simple."

The werewolf thunked their forehead softly against the passenger window, squinting out at the shapes of trees and bushes. They hated the distinct implication in the air that the vampire had decided they just couldn't understand. And maybe they couldn't. Wasn't it that simple? If someone loved you, they wanted you to be happy. Right? Sure, nothing was perfect, but the foundation was there.

They huffed, their breath clouding up the glass, and closed their eyes, concentrating on the soft hum of the engine and the whir of passing road instead of whether they may have made a mistake.

They must have dozed off because the next time they opened their eyes, they were approaching an enormous black castle, crooked spires stretching toward the wide, haloed moon. Why were vampires so pretentious?

"This is your parent's house?" the werewolf mumbled with a large yawn.

The vampire jolted a little at the sound of their voice before putting out a hand to squeeze their arm, an acknowledgment and an apology wrapped in one. "Summer home. We came all the time as children, but now it's just for reunions."

"Are all vampire families obscenely rich, or is that just a you thing?"

"Shut up," the vampire chuckled, parking along the side of the drive behind three or four other ridiculously pretty vehicles. "You don't live this long without getting some perks."

They popped the door and the werewolf followed them around to the back of the car, stretching their long limbs with each step.

"So how are we doing this? Am I carrying you over the threshold? Go in side by side? A little behind me?"

"Definitely the first one," the werewolf said, accepting their bag. "I don't know, doesn't really matter I guess. They do know I'm coming, right?"

"Yeees."

"Only checking. I guess we could, like, link arms or something?"

"Or just hold hands?"

The werewolf blushed a little. "Yes, that would...be more natural."

"We can link arms if you want."

"No."

"Come on, it wasn't a bad idea."

"No, it's silly."

"It's not silly. Let's do it. "

"I don't want to--"

"It's ok, I just wasn't imagining it right, but if you want--"

"Fine!" The werewolf abruptly hugged the vampire's arm. "How's this?"

The vampire's breath hitched, and when their voice came out it was soft. "It's nice."

The werewolf nodded curtly, making their grip a little tighter as they turned toward the entrance steps. It was suddenly hitting them that they were walking straight into a vampire den. Their original prejudices and anxieties about vampires had been mostly eradicated, but even the most open-minded person would wonder at the wisdom of entering a house full of immortals with the power to crush your skull like an eggshell. Especially when those immortals habitually drank the blood of mortals like them to live.

The vampire placed their hand over the werewolf's knuckles as they approached the double door, cold thumb stroking lightly across the back of their hand. This was fine. They wanted this. They were getting another family. It was fine. Everything was fi--

One of the great wooden doors swung open.

...

I'm sorry to cut this off right at the good part, but this was getting super long and I have no idea when I'll reach another good stopping point. So stay tuned for the family meeting in part two. Also deciding whether to actively call them Claws and Fangs 😂 obviously not their real names but maybe they could acknowledge each other that way. I dunno.

Part Two

Master Taglist:

@moss-tombstone @crazytwentythrees @just-1-lonely-person @the-vagabond-nun @willow-trees-are-beautiful @cocoasprite @insanedreamer7905 @valiantlytransparentwhispers @whovian378 @watercolorfreckles @thebluepolarbear @yulanlavender @kitsunesakii @deflated-bouncingball @lem-hhn @office-plant-in-a-trenchcoat @ghostfacepepper @pigeonwhumps @demonictumble @inkbirdie @vuvulia @bouncyartist @lunatic-moss-studio @breilobrealdi i @freefallingup13 @i-am-a-story-goblin @ryunniez @rainy-knights-of-villany @distractedlydistracted @saspas-corner @echoednonny @perilous-dreamer @blood-enthusiast @randomfixation @alexkolax @pksnowie @blessupblessup @wolfeyedwitch @thedeepvoidinmyheart @cornflower-cowboy @bestblob @a-chaotic-gremlin @espresso-depresso-system @prompt-fills-and-writing-spills

#vampire x werewolf #vampire #supernatural #fantasy #werewolf #writblr #meet the family #awkward family #writing community #writing snippet #creative writing #fantasci tumblr #fantasci snippet

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softie-rain · 3 years ago

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Hi 👋🏾 it's me again lmao so this is my request I was hoping if you could do a JD x black female reader one and like they were together and he cheated on her with Veronica [bad JD🥲] and can you include these numbers from the angst prompt 3,5,6,8 and 10 sorry if this is a lot I hope you can do my request and I hope you have a great day 😊 💜

Only love can hurt like this

pairings: jason dean x black!fem!reader

warnings: mention of racism, cheating and strong language

summary: you knew something was off with jd... you just would never thought it was for that.

a/n: i really hope i did it good and since it was my first time writing with black reader, please tell me if i have wrote anything that can be considered offensive or that you don't like, and i'll make sure to fix it.

also you didn't specify the ending so i hope it's ok how i choose it 😭

is this out of character? probably. do i care? no.

prompt used:

3) "You're a mess." "I'm not a mess." "I can tell you've been crying."

5)"You're here." "I'm here. Just like I promised."

6)"You're in my head, even when you're not supposed to be. It's shouldn't be so hard to let you go."

8)"Every time I see you I just feel more alone."

10)"I can never do anything right, can I ?!"

Any spam likers will be blocked. If you like what you read, REBLOG.

You always compared loving JD to a ride on a rollercoaster.

You loved him, you really did. But he was a very… difficult person to love. But you didn't blame him. He had a tough life since the day he was born (according to you at least), damned to live with his father.

In a way, your mother has always told you the same thing about yourself -for different reasons- on those days when you'd come back home crying because of insults from older kids, that you couldn't understand yet.

But JD didn't care. He never did. He loved you, "more than anything or anyone I've ever loved." And that was enough for you.

But it wasn't for him apparently.

A whole week had passed since you found out he had cheated on you with no one else but Mrs. Veronica Sawyer herself.

You had nothing against her, hell you still didn't. You thought she was a nice girl -she had pulled that prank on Martha, but she was definitely nicer than the other Heathers- and you couldn't bring yourself to blame her.

For some reason, it was all JD's fault. And technically it was.

"I knew it wasn't going to last long." Chandler's voice was meaner than usual the morning you found out. And to be meaner than usual, it meant a lot since it was her.

You turned to look at her confused. "What?" Heather let a short laugh escape her mouth, smirking. "You and Jesse James. I mean, I knew it was gonna end soon because it's you, and it's obvious he was going to look for someone better, so really, you can be that surprised."

You kept staring at her. It wasn't the first time Heather Chandler picked up on you for your and JD relationship. She despised him, but if there was someone he despised more than him, that was you.

Besides, you weren't surprised. Just completely oblivious to what she was talking about. "Heather, me and JD are still dating." Duke started giggling, but was immediately interrupted by Heather's deathly stare. "I wouldn't be so sure of that." She added, turning back to you again.

"Not for long, at least." And with that, the three of them left, leaving you standing confused in the school hallways.

You didn't think much about it, thinking she had been messing with you. Still, on the way home, you heard your name being called. "Y/n?" Veronica called you from behind.

"Hey Veronica. Need something?" She was acting weird. She was nervous, fidgeting with her fingers, not meeting your eyes. "I'm- I'm sorry, I really am. We weren't thinking, and I just- I was pissed, and he didn't say no I'm- It's all my fault, I'm so sorry." She mumbled.

You raised an eyebrow. "Veronica, what are you talking about?" She almost looked like she was about to cry.

"Uhm, me and JD, we, we had sex." Oh. "Oh."

Veronica nodded, not knowing what to do. "I had a small fight with Heather, and I don't know why I went to JD. He comforted me, one thing led to the other and we ended up naked in his bed. I'm so sorry y/n I really am, I should have never done that, I know." You could tell she felt miserable about it.

You didn't know what to say, so you just told her not to worry and that you were glad she told you. And then just left, running home and closing yourself in your room.

Where you obviously started crying. Why? I mean, you knew why. But why?

He told you so many times he loved you, that he would have denied himself even to Aphrodite herself.

Guess Veronica Sawyer didn't count though.

You lied in bed, exhausted. You loved JD, worshipped him almost. And you knew for sure that he worshipped you -not sure anymore.

You got up and went to look at yourself in the mirror. Crying didn't suit you for sure, you were pretty much a mess.

You went back to bed when you heard your window opening. No. You thought. Not now. "Hey." He said softly, making his way into your room and laying in bed next to you, cuddling you. "Weren't we supposed to meet at Snappy Snack Shack after school?" Right.

"I forgot. Sorry." Couldn't he just leave you alone in your sadness and loneliness?

"You're a mess." You heard him say suddenly.

"I'm not a mess." You answered, denying your previous thought. "I can tell you've been crying." He mumbled in your hair, kissing your hair.

"What's wrong?" He asked. You shook your head. "Nothing."

"You're a terrible liar, darling."

"Yeah well, it seems you are a great one" You didn't mean to say that. But you did.

"Hm?" He murmured confused. "What are you talking about?" You turned to face him. It was now or never.

"Veronica stopped to talk to me after school." You began, and you could see his eyes widened. "She told me everything. But I'd like to hear it from you too."

Lie. You didn't want to. You knew it was going to hurt like hell, hearing him say those words. But you asked him anyway, because a part of you didn't want to believe it.

He hid his face in his hands, avoiding your look. "I'm sorry y/n I'm- I'm sorry."

"Sorry for what JD?"

He looked at you. "Please don't make me say it."

Slowly, the sadness was starting to be replaced by anger. An anger you believed you had all the right to feel.

"So you can do it but you can't say it?" You asked him. He took your hand to kiss it, leaning in to move the kisses all up your arm. "Please. I'm sorry." He said in between each kiss.

You took away your arm from his lips. "Say it, Jason."

He closed his eyes, and looked down once again. "I'm sorry I cheated on you." He whispered. You held back the tears that wanted to fall down once again. "Get out."

You said simply. He looked at you but didn't move. "I said. Get out." He shook his head. "No."

"JD." You said, trying to stay calm. "Get the fuck out. I don't wanna do this now."

He laughed. "You don't wanna do this now? Then when, y/n? When? You and I both know you'll never want to talk about this, so we may as well do this now."

You got up and went to the window he came in by. "I don't care. You screwed up badly, and I don't want to talk about it now."

He laughed again. "Screwed up badly? Because I fucked Veronica Sawyer once?"

And there, you just lost it.

"Yes JD, because you fucked her! I don't care if it was one time, or two, or whether you want, you had sex with her, you cheated on me, and that won't change!"

"It was a mistake, I made a mistake, that's true, but you can't just give up on us for this!"

"I sure as hell can! And I'm not giving up on you, I just need time!"

He was now standing too, taking deep breaths. You were starting to get slightly scared. You knew how he could get when he lost control over his anger, but he never took it out on you.

You were always the one to calm him down.

"I can never do anything right, can I ?!" He yelled. "And what is that supposed to mean?"

He runs a hand through his hair, getting closer to you. "This is just the perfect excuse to leave me, isn't it? God, I knew you were going to soon or later. This was just the last straw of patience you had left for me uh? You can't stand me anymore, just say it."

You reached him so that you were now standing a few inches from each other. You could feel his heavy breath on your face.

"Listen." You said. "It's not like that." You put your hand on his chest, almost to stop him from saying anything else. "I love you Jason Dean. And I have all the patience of the world -as you say it- with you. And this is not an excuse to leave you."

You gently pushed him away. "So please try to understand that between you and me, right now, I'm the victim more than you are." Was he even the victim at all?

He didn't say anything. Just looked at you, tears evident in his eyes, and left from the window. He stopped in your backyard and looked up, but you were already back on your bed, hugging your knees.

And so there you were, one week later, at your locker. When you opened it, a note fell from it. Another one.

You didn't bother opening it, knowing who it was from and what it said. Some heartbreaking apology probably, by Jason. You refused to talk to him the last few days, even if he tried. So he just kept leaving notes in your locker hoping you'd open them.

You didn't.

Once your last period was over you, as usual, walked home. Actually, usually JD took you home with his bike. You hated that you missed him, because oh, you did.

But you hated him for it. And you hated yourself. And the stupid feeling of sadness that wasn't leaving you, ever.

It wasn't just that you missed him. You missed the way he made you feel. Loved, special, like you belonged to each other. And for a while, you believed the bullshit he told you.

Who knows, maybe he actually believed him too. But his actions spoke very differently from his words. Yet you would have lied to yourself if you said you didn't think about forgiving him.

Having him back, being back in his arms. All you always wanted and craved, back to you. And as summoned, you heard his voice calling for you. He was on his bike, riding slowly so that he could keep up with you.

"Y/n? Can we talk please?" You didn't answer and just kept walking. "Darling c'mon. I just want to talk. Nothing more." He insisted. You stopped in track and so did he, jumping off his bike and going to you. "Meet me at that small park behind my house, ok? In, uh, three hours. Hm?"

You took your time to give him an answer. He was right, in some way. You had to talk about it, soon or later. And besides, the worst that could happen is that you'll be back as things already were: you ignoring him and him desperately trying to get you back.

You nodded. "Promise me. Please." He was begging, again. It was something he did a lot lately.

"I promise I'll be there." You said. More like your lips moved before you could stop them, but you did anyway. "Thank you." He said, betraying a smile he was trying to hold.

Three hours later you were looking for him at said park, already regretting your choice. He was sitting on a bench, waiting for you.

"You're here." He said once he saw you. "I'm here. Just like I promised." You replied, less cold than you intended.

He moved so you could sit with him. "Look. I know I fucked up. I had no right in saying those things I told you that day, and I understand if you're mad at me. I mean, of course you are.

"I don't know why I did what I did. Maybe a part of me like Veronica- But not more than I love you. I thought that I could have done it without you. Damn pride, I really thought I could.

"But I can't. I was alone before, you brought a light in my life, and now every time I see you I just feel more alone."

He took your hands in his, he wasn't even trying to hide his tears anymore. "I love you, y/n. And I understand if you don't want to forgive me, but at least consider it?"

You bit your lip nervously. Was he lying? No. JD may have been a good liar, but he never cried. He was telling the truth.

Your mind wanted to explode. You didn't know what to do. If you forgave him, you could come back on being the couple you were before. Weird for sure. But happy, as you've never been. Still, you'd have the constant doubt if he would cheat on you again.

On the other hand, if you didn't forgive him, he would go back to being alone, as he stated, and you'd come back to not feeling loved. But at least you knew you couldn't get more heart-broken.

You gently rubbed your finger on his hand, and he immediately looked up at you. You kept staring at your intertwined hands.

"You're in my head, even when you're not supposed to be. It shouldn't be so hard to let you go."

You said. You slowly raised your head meeting his eyes, a hint of hope in them.

"But you have to understand that what you did really hurt me, JD. More than you think."

He nodded, kissing your cheek. "I know. I know it did."

You caressed his cheek. "I can't forgive you JD." You told him simply, and you could see the light in his eyes slowly fading out.

Still, he nodded again, accepting your answer. "Ok, I understand. I respect your decision and-" He choked on his words, keeping a sob from coming out. "-and I just wish you the best darling."

You chuckled. "You didn't let me finish, dumbass." He raised an eyebrow confused. "I can't forgive you. But we can try again, and we can learn to trust each other again." You explained to him.

He smiled at you. Without even giving you the time of reacting he kissed your lips, hugging tight and close to him. You could feel his tears wetting your own cheeks and lips, but you didn't care. You were finally back in his arms.

"Thank you." He breathed out, leaning his forehead on yours. "Thank you. I promise I'll do everything to gain your trust back." He whispered.

You smiled and gave him another quick kiss. "Yeah that's the least." You mumbled. In response he just chuckled, and shut you with another kiss.

requested by @njcrazy19 :)

#jason dean #jason dean x you #jason dean x y/n #jason dean x reader #jason dean imagine #jd x reader

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kookiecrumb · 3 years ago

Text

jjk|| Your Head

"tags": @kazthebrekkerofinej

word count: uhhhh

summary: Jungkook is the heir to the throne of your Kingdom! In this tale of duty versus heart, will love prevail victorious?

tags: Royalty!Jungkook x Peasant!Reader, oneshot, smut, fluff, slight angst, some crack, pining, forbidden lovers, Jungkookie has a sweet tooth, strangers to friends to lovers

warnings: explicit language, impact play, birthday sex (technically), fingering, oral (m receiving*), love marking, alcohol consumption, s&m themes, horny grinding, praise kink/body worship

a/n:

hey guys!

Firstly, I want to say how proud I am of myself for growing so much during this fic. I learned a lot about what I'm comfortable with, what I'd like to work on, and where my confidences lie.

I won't lie and say it's been easy, because writing this meant dealing with a lot of my fears? I'm excited for all the works that are to come.

The only thing I can do is be as receptive to growth as possible, so I'm looking forward to learning...

*I actually learned that Vaseline wasn't invented until like the 1870s? The fic is written in the 1810s, so I actually had a choice between having them do it with vegetable oil or spit. Spit won.

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5 years ago

You bend over to pick up an apple that had rolled over under your father's produce cart, praying that it isn't bruised so that you have to pay for it out of your dinner, when a crumpled piece of paper hits you in the ass.

Confused, you crawl out from under the stand and unwrap the paper.

The paper itself is of the finest quality you've ever seen. It's a sturdy cardstock, bleached white with gold etchings on the borders. The print on the top of it reads "His Highness Jeon's Royal Study," and scribbled in some kid's amateur cursive below, "Nice butt."

You directed your gaze upwards, towards the towering castle walls. Sure enough, a boy no older than 15 had his noggin popping out from the top of the rampart, with two wide eyes staring down, curious as to your reaction. This was Prince Jungkook, heir to the throne of your kingdom.

"Shouldn't you be equestrian horse riding or playing polo or something?" You shout. He furrows his eyebrows, apparently offended at your assumption, and then disappears behind the edifice.

Moments later, another paper hits your shoulder as you're practicing your caligraphy behind your cart. It lands between the apples, so you reach your hand over and fish out out.

You glance up at the anticipant, and sure enough he's there with his doe eyes and his coconut head, ogling.

"No, dumbie. That's at MID-day." Well how were YOU supposed to know the royal schedule of the crown prince, it wasn't just common knowlegde you learned from being a humble farmer's daught--

Ah!

"Will you STOP?!" You put your foot down. "Unless you're here to buy my apples, then you're not getting ANY, little Prince." Oh, shit. You gave him ideas. Now it was really over for you.

In less than half an hour, half a company of men arrived at the marketplace, asking about your little old apple stand, and sure enough, Jungkook had bought out the entire cart so that you were forced to help with the transaction.

The young prince had eyes frankly too big for his head, with the most prominent cupid's bow you've ever seen. His nose slightly outgrew his face and his ears were hidden away behind his short, black hair. "Now you can talk to me." He gave you a rose he'd stolen from the royal garden. "I am Jungkook, heir to the throne of--"

"I know who you are." You interrupt him, documenting His Highness' total in your calligraphy book.

With a hand perched on his chest from surprise, he scoffed. "And I happen to think you're really pretty, so I was going to ask you to be my very first consor--"

"You're 15, you have playmates not consorts."

"And how old are you?!" He's had it, raising his voice and taking a bite out of one of your apples with force.

"16, old enough to have suitors." You tease. Jungkook hangs his head a little. He just needed someone to talk to, it would seem. Reluctantly, you scribbled down your address down on a piece of note paper and handed it to him.

"Look, if you buy more of my apples, I'll have an excuse to tell my Dad so I can hang out with you." You spoke in a low voice as to not raise suspicion.

Your dad is standing negotiating with the guards about prices, his usual embarassing haggling gruffly overpowering the guards elegant twiddle-tones.

"Wonderful! See you soon, my sweet!" He resumes his confident demeanor, tucking the paper into his overcoat with a small smile. He salutes you boyishly and marches away with a year's supply of apples.

For the next week, the royal kitchen had baked 3 apple pies, made 5 fruit salads, 4 batches of apple muffins, and threw the rest of them in Sangria; that's the same Sangria as King Jeon finds himself drinking in his wife's drawing room on Sunday.

"Call Chef, fetch him up here." He waves to his assistant, keeping his eyes on the outside. He was deep in thought, his hands stoicly behind his back.

The Kingdom had been prosperous for over many years now, and war had not come close to threatening its borders in a lifetime. Negotiations were always successful, and quality of living was high. The work of a King, in a situation such as this, was to perfect the image of the royal family as strong rulers, and to paint his daughters as desirable to foreign heirs.

"Your Grace," the assistant called his attention, "Head Chef Sung." The dainty man bows and scurries off somewhere else.

Chef Sung is a portly man, who carries himself heaving with every step, his great belly inflating with each hefty inhale. He approaches the King, and kneels down to kiss his hand with his fat lips.

The King recoils in disgust, but quickly collects himself and his words. "Where are these apples from, is it France or Spain?" He demands.

"Neither, Your Highness." Mr.Sung lifts up his eyes. "They are from our Holy Kingdom; by order of Prince Jungkook, an entire cart was purchased of these apples and we have not been able to get rid of them." Tears threatened Chef Sungs eyes at the very mention of the fruit.

'Well, there's one thing the kid's done right.' King Jeon now faces the Chef, setting down his drink on a mahogany table, leaning against it casually. "Well! Good. I'd like to meet the owner of that cart, invite him to my Sunday brunch."

"Oh, yes, of course sir! You'll never see them in our kitchen aga--What?" Chef Sung takes out his handkerchief, waving it around in the air and drying his tears at once. "So you like them! Why...Yes! Yes, of course!"

Your father thought it would be valuable to have you around the kitchen, learning from the skilled men and women employed by the Jeon family. He only visited once a week to drop off fresh produce, (he'd been officially hired to handle restocking of goods) but you, after showing promising signs of being a gifted baker during one of your father's restocks, were granted scholarship by Ms.Kang to be her aid.

You were now, officially, a resident of the Jeon Estate, residing in the servant's quarters, immediately adjacent to the kitchen. This was convenient. It was far too convenient for a certain little Prince to get the idea of wanting a midnight snack and wandering downstairs.

One day, he does just that. He finds his way into the first bedroom to the right of the stairs facing the kitchen, and that happens to be your bedroom.

He pokes you awake. "Ow! Ow, whyyy~" You whine and toss yourself over to the other side of the bed. His irritating poking persists. You grab his fingers and your eyes shatter open.

You sit up, alarmed. "You could have me arrested, what the fuck are you doing?!"

"I wanted a midnight snack! Besides, I wanna talk to you." He pouts, still holding a small teddy companion.

"Fine. I'll bake you ONE sheet of cookies." You slip on your night shoes and shuffle to the kitchen, and Jungkook tags along.

By the time Jungkook's 18th birthday comes around, he's in the kitchen helping you whisk buttercream to top his cake while having a tease at the Austrian Princess' mole.

"You have one right under your lip, look!" You take a little buttercream from the bowl and stain the dark spot with it.

He licks it up and hastens to add, "it needs more sugar, lady!" as he turns to grab a puffy bag of confection sugar.

"You're impossible to please." Snatching the sugar away from him, you smirk. "You can gobble down as many sweets as you want when the ball commences. Remember, this is the year you're supposed to be keeping your eye out for a girl of a good fam--"

"Yada yada, must have hips for childbearing, yada yada yada..." He mocks the speech his mother had told him that morning when he got dressed.

"Exactly." You set your bowl aside to fix Jungkook's tie. "Yes, and that's your duty, as our heir."

You step back and examine Jungkook one more time. He'd grown so tall in the last year, his legs like spider's and he was just beginning to grow into his features. Handsome boy.

You, too, had grown into an elegant young woman. You had a poised complexion, ready-mannered and graceful. Your hands seemed out of place in your otherwise feminine frame, carrying an extra bit of girth from baking. You were 19 years old.

Marriage was becoming an uncomfortably frequent topic during your visits home, as your mother had married young, herself, she expected the same of you.

Truth be told, there were plenty of offers for your hand. You were a skilled and very esteemed individual, who had broken into thr artisinal class. But your father knew better than put a dowry on your happiness. So long as you worked, he saw no reason to marry you off just yet.

"Now, go. Your sisters must be worried sick! Go out there." You shoo him, pushing him out the door of the kitchen despite his flailing arms.

Throughout the party, you'd been carrying a platter of your own baked goods, serving them to the aristocrats attending the Princes' coming-of-age ball. Accents from all over Europe and some from Kingdoms as far East as Cyprus jubilantly engaged in artful conversation which filled the air with good spirits.

Jungkook, himself, was busy being introduced to as many women as possible, a medley of presenting duchesses, ladies, and even Princesses of your Kingdom. They were each more qualified than you'll ever be, ten-fold.

One was a Greek Princess, her hair cascaded in darling curls down her shoulders and her eyes were deep-set, her voice a flirtatious trill.

Another, a Prussian Princess', posture radiated excellency, and whose complexion sparkled like powdered snow. Jungkook greeted her warmly, pleased with her appearance.

Distracted, you tripped up your skirt and dropped the remainder of your pastries. With that, you stepped off to use the restroom.

The sound of Strauss' Rosen aus dem Süden faintly loomed in the air as you wiped tears from your waterline in the mirror. That was just the way it was, wasn't it? Princes come of age, and they find wives who they commit their lives to.

"Married men don't have friends who are girls." You say out loud, just to realize it. Jungkook was now expected to find a mate within the season, and he was, in fact, quite the eligible bachelor.

Little did you know that Jungkook had been keeping an eye out for you throughout the party, not only because you were carrying his favorite Danish pastires, but because he knew your company was his greatest comfort.

He's in the midst of greeting the Duchess of Kent when he excuses himself to go look for you. He finds your mess first, frowning as he realizes something has gone terribly wrong.

He catches you in the hallway, face puffy and shaky. He grabs your wrist to keep you from darting back to the kitchen.

"Please don't do this, it's my birthday, y/n." It's as if an unspoken rule had been broken between you, and he feels it. Something is making you uncomfortable. "Was it the girls? You told me about this, it's my duty to at least greet them and--"

"Yeah, you sure did greet the Prussian woman nicely." You speak through tears. "She's the girl you were born to be with, huh? Your birthright?"Jungkook is silent. "Every girl at that ball wants to be your wife, want to have your children. They haven't known you for a day and yet they're ready to be your bride."

You search Jungkook's eyes for any sign of coherence, hoping that he would defend against you, that he would speak up and tell you otherwise. No such argument comes.

You yank your arm from his grip and march to the kitchen to remake the pastries you spilled.

You had the job of clearing off all the tables upon the departure of the last guests. It is midnight, and the windows of the castle stream moonlight down on the carpet beneath your feet. The glow of candles soothe you as you hum the waltzes which echo in your mind. It's a brilliant evening.

The centerpieces of the tables were gardenias, lush rose-like flowers with yellow pistils.

Summer, 1809

"Jungkook, wait! You're going to make me trip!" You shout from the top of the hill.

"You've gotta come see before the sun sets! It's the only way we'll get there on time, now run!" Jungkook's speeding down the terrain towards the Sycamore tree which grew deep and wide beneath the banks of a great rushing river.

You groan and throw caution to the wind, rolling down the steep mount in your Sunday dress. Jungkook turns to watch you, a grin spreading across his handsome face. "Look at you!"

You land on your feet at the bottom and scurry off to join Jungkook under the grandfather tree, out of breath entirely. "Now, look what you made me do. You're such a boy, you know that?! Making me come out here just to see some bloody--"

Jungkook has plucked a gardenia and placed it behind your ear. "Would you shut up? We got here on time. Behold."

In all its glory, the sun bathes you in its vivacious rays, creating a feeling of heavenly bliss as it dips below the horizon. The sky blushes pink, its clouds mere whisps above you. Wind rustles the leaves of the grand tree, rousing the birds to chirp their afternoon song.

"Mom used to come here all the time with my Dad, because of these." Jungkook clasped the blooming flower in his tender hands.

After a while, he says "the bugs will come out soon, so we ought to go back," as if he's trying not to scare something away. He helps you up, and with one last look across the valley, you walk next to each other back to the East Quarters.

You take all the silverware and plates by the tub to the dish-washing station and toss all of the linen napkins into the washing machine. All you had left was to blow out the lights in leading upstairs.

"Prince! It is very late, and there are no guests left for you to entertain. What troubles you?" Jungkook's sitting on the stairs with his head in his hands, still wearing his best suit.

"I disappointed you, y/n...I didn't like any of them." He admits, lifting his head up to sulk at you. "I should have told you then, but I didn't want to make you upset!"

Did Jungkook mistake your jealousy for disappointment?

"I'm not upset because you didn't hit it off with the girls..." You sigh. A confession is due, and he's ready to hear the truth from you about how you feel about him.

"Well, the truth is, I didn't like any of the girls because I like you, y/n. But you know that, don't you?" You pause, asking him to elaborate.

"Remember when I bought all the apples because I wanted to be with you? Like...I told you that you were my consort and I kind of meant it?" He felt pathetic now, realizing that you weren't just ignoring his advances. "So you didn't friendzone me for 2 years, you actually didn't know that I liked you."

It was almost laughable, a situation you would read in one of your illegal novels which you kept tucked away in your pillow at night. "No, Kookie, I didn't." You admit to your insolence.

You can't bear to lead him on any longer. You needed to put duty over your own self interest for the sake of the kingdom, even if it shattered his hope. It was better this way.

"But, you do know that we can't ever be a thing, right? It's just silly." Your heart tightens with the words which fall out of your mouth. "It is. Nevermind what your parents would think, what would it do for your image? You're on the world's stage, Jungkook, and you're a selfish person if you think you can just throw all of your duties away to date a scum of the Earth like-- like me!" With your heart in your throat, dry your eyes with your sleeve. "And...I want to, I really really want to, more than anything else to love you, Jungkook. I love you! I...can't." Through the blur of your tears, the shapeless blob that Jungkook has become stands up.

Taking his thumb and swiping it under your eyes, he sighs. Words escaping him, he takes your trembling body against his chest and nestles his head in the crook of your neck. Your cold hands travel underneath his overcoat to hold his waist. The Princes' lips plant a gentle kiss on your neck, chaste yet deep and satisfying.

"I will not accept any bride if not you, my love." He draws back, meeting your fervid gaze. "To the world, I remain a bachelor for a few years."

"And after those years, Jungkook?" You ride your hands up to caress the man's jaw. "You will still love me after those years, and then what?"

"I don't know," he says, voice as soft as powder. "I don't know many things, y/n, that's why I need you to teach me." His palms are rubbing at your waist, beckoning you closer.

His breath quickening as you lean your body against his hold, and you figure it must be the wine he drank to calm his nerves. That was it, wasn't it? He was drunk.

"You're not drunk, are you?" Your face sours, really hoping it's not the case as you feel your body temperature rise.

"Y/N, I've only had a glass. You saw I was a wreck back there." His lips kept chasing yours in a dance you can't quite describe. "I have wanted to hold you like this since I saw you selling apples on the street. Give me the honor..." His forehead against yours and his strong hands supporting your back, he's already fucking you with his eyes.

"The pleasure of being your lover." He squeezes your waist tight with his forearms, planting brisk kisses behind your ear and breathing in your scent. He smiles against you. Your skin pebbles at his affectionate touch, purring softly as your eyes roll back in delight.

"Kookie..." You breathe, leaning on his broad chest. "Kook, the maids are wondering where I am, I have to go..." You slur, tugging at his collar.

He grunts in protest, taking your ear between his teeth and nibbling it.

"If you let me go, I'll steal some cake for you tomorrow at breakfast." If there's anything Jungkook likes more than Cream Ice, it was cake. He unravels you from his arms and nods, his eyes softening.

"Request my service tomorrow, from Ms.Kang. She's been sweet on me lately." You peck his cheek before stepping back. Your rouge has embarrassingly stained His Grace's cheek.

Jungkook bows and presses a kiss on your hand, eyes rising to meet yours. "Til' morrow, babe."

Jiyoo shakes you awake the next morning, handing you a cake and a note that reads: "Prince Jungkook has a commission he must discuss with you. Meet him at his chamber immediately."

Lacing on a simple corset over your nightgown, you try not to look too red in the face as you climb up the stairs to His Majesty's room. You'd be up there alone, as requested. The girls would absolutely start rumors based on that alone-- rumors which you realize are probably totally true. This was stuff of scandal, after all...

'There shouldn't be anything scandalous about love.' You decide as you rap on His Highness' door.

"Please enter...but only if you have my cake!" Jungkook says in his morning voice. He's so cute.

The simplicity of Jungkook's abode takes you by surprise. His bedroom is very well lit, a capital display of the flowered valley through his bay windows washed the room in gold, painting his porcelain white carpets and his cotton sheets a warm creme color. His drawers and vanity were etched in gold, with breathtaking detailing.

The Monarch himself was splayed across the bed, laying on his side casually. He held a glass in his hand, holding a white wine. He puts down his glass and sits up as your presence.

"We both know that you didn't come here as my servant." You lock the door behind you. "And I have no such commission to give you, darling." The innocence which undertones his usual speech is missing as he coaxes you towards him.

"This much I know, Your Majesty," You say, taking a bit of frosting on your index finger and smudging it on the Princes lips. His black eyes, as cunning as a viper, watch you dangerously as you push two fingers past his plush lips. He wraps his hands around your wrist and draws your hand away, his gaze fixating on you.

"Set the cake down." At his command, you carefully place the confection down on a nearby chest, feeling Jungkook's eyes on you, drawing you back towards his grip.

"Let me pull your laces apart," with your waist held by his Herculean hand, he hums "and then let me pull you apart. I want to memorize your pleasures and gratify your desires, I need it, y/n..." Your back flush against his chest and your thighs split, his hands knead into you as he litters your collar with his mark.

You gasp softly against the crook of his neck, giving into his hold of you. His hot tongue spreads under your jaw, closing into a hard kiss as his hands travel back up to undo your corset and free your tits.

One by one, his fingers pop open the buttons left on your gown until the collar hangs off-shoulder to expose your collarbone. At the sight of new skin, Jungkook's tongue darts to stain it.

His hands stagger above your breasts. "Is it okay if I touch you here?"

"Oh, Kookie, touch me everywhere~" Your hands form fists around Jungkook's shirt, beckoning him impossibly closer.

Grasping one ever so carefully, his thumb grazes your bud as he playfully bites under your ear. "ah-- ahh,"

Jungkook groans in response, he can't believe how cute you sound. Curious, he wants to hear more, so he traces your thighs and experimentally pushes up the outside your cunt.

You squirm, tensing up immediately in response. You bring your hands down to find the latch on his trousers and dip your hands below to rub him through his undergarments. He heatedly bucks up to meet your touch, a panting mess.

You face him now as he watches you ride his fingers while you grip his girth through his clothes. He takes you by the ass and places you on his prominent bulge, hips rolling into you as he hungrily kisses you, his firm hands grinding your core on his cock.

His face is a sinful red, panting under you desperately.

"I've been wanting to do this," His voice warbles through your touch, running your thumb along his underside. It's his turn to gasp. He sits up and collapses his lips into yours, softer than rose petals and his taste faintly like wine.

You place your hand on his chest, and his heart is pounding, a thin layer of sweat already forming on his honeylike complexion.

Hastily, you pull your dress over your head and lean back to allow him to familiarize himself with your stark form, a dainty chain hanging between your bosom. Jungkook bites his lips as he wriggles out of his clothing, desposing of it beside the bed.

He's giddy behind those sultry eyes, you know him well enough that he's overexcited to get inside of you. It goes straight to his cock, your playfulness as you feel up his bare shoulders and discover his abdominals, your fingers tracing his ridges with a sense of innocent wonder.

He takes your hands and looks at you in this way-- Butterflies fill your stomach instantly. Jungkook's thumbing at your pout with his intrepid fingers.

His eyes flutter when grip his base and submerge your upper body below his hips. You lick a long, thick stripe up his underside, causing his breath to hitch and his head to fall back on to the bed.

Those goddamn cupid's bow lips of his would whisper the dirtiest things under his breath, lewd thoughts that sounded completely alien coming from His Majesty's mouth, he said for you.

"Oh, such a pretty mouth~ It's so good, y/n, you swallow me so good--" he moaned like a mantra, trying to keep his hips from snapping up into you. Your hot, wet tongue wrapped around his throbbing cock was only a fantasy to him for years.

He fills your throat with his girth, his taste tantalizingly smooth. It leaves your mouth with a 'pop.' You struggle to keep your legs apart as you crawl up to kiss him.

He takes those fingers of his and slides his index and middle into you and languidly thrusts them, smirking against your lips. "Shit, you liked that, hmm..."

"Kookie...please," you whine as he squeezes your ass hard before smacking it. You yelp, the sting of his fingers radiating from your skin.

"I like it when you beg, y/n, it's so cute..." He pulls your ass up to his thighs. He's flush hard against your abdomen, already sticky with his precum and your spit. You marvel at the self control he has.

You don't finish your thought before he has his head inside of you, impaling you on his cock and stretching your entrance, hissing at how incredible it felt to have you around him.

His shaft reached pleasure points within you had yet to discover. You clench, feeling his tip brush against your cervix. "Wh... hngh," he groans, "how did you do that, do it again--" You wrap your legs around his thighs and clench around him, biting your lip. You watch as he shivers from pleasure, feeling his skin horripilate under your touch.

His thumb is softly circling above your clit as he pulls out of you carefully. He swirls back in, nestling himself inside your heat, hissing. "Ahh~ Jungkook~!" At the sound of his first name moaned out of your mouth, he groans and rolls his hips up to create messy friction. That familiar knot in your stomach tingles as he plays with the bundle of nerves buried within you.

He glances up at your ruined lips, clashing with them again as he lifts your knees up with his hands and thrusts nice and rough, making you yell with every jolt of his cock. The smell and sound of sex fills the room as he experiments with positions, laying you on all fours.

"Get your ass up for me." You obey, ever servile. You're reminded-- you're his servant. He owns your work, he owns your services, and now he wants you in the most lucrative way, he wants your soaked cunt around his imperial cock. He gets what he wants.

Jungkook's palms smack against your ass one more time, just to watch the way it jiggles for him. He smirks a little before he shoves himself into your pretty little cunt. You bury your face into the pillows in pelasure as he chases your orgasm with vigor, fingering your clitoris while you move your hips back to meet his hard thrusts.

You whine like a harlot, his cock allowing you every satisfaction as he works a head-spinning orgasm out of that cunt. "I'm gonna cum, Kookie~!" you warn as you spasm against his length, moans ripping from your throat as you coat him with your thick juices.

His hips stutter up and he just barely pulls himself completely from you as he paints your back white, a guttural groan escaping his mouth.

After a while of loud panting and scattered giggling, Jungkook reaches over for a wet cloth and cleans the both of you gingerly. You trail your hands up to caress his jaw and kiss his lips softly.

"You need to tell everyone that I had a long and extensive request for the Harvest party, that I wanted a lot of fall fruits and vegetables featured in the baked goods, make it as specific as possible and make sure that you mention that I want to meet with you again, over dinner." His labored breathing punctuate his words, as youd kisses consume him. "And..."

"And?" You cock an eyebrow, simpering.

"Doyouthinkmaybeyoucouldbringmesomemilktogowithmycake?" He mumbles, eyes glued on the bed.

"What?" (If you give a Kookie a Cookie...)

Disgruntled, he sighs and repeats: "Milk! Milk for my cake. I know it's moist cause you made it but I'm really thirsty, especially after..." His cheeks flush a cute pink. You wait for him to continue just to fluster him a little more. "Y/N, just please!" You can't ever refuse his pouty face.

Next week, Jungkook's got you pinned against the hallway wall, making out with you hungrily as his hands ride up your dress. Just across the hall, his Dad is negotiating war with Portugal over land in the West.

The next month, you have his cock buried in your throat underneath the table at an important conference about how to create jobs.

All this while the pressure for Jungkook to find a bride continues to rise as he reaches seniority, and as his father's grey hairs pronounce themselves.

Warm touches are always hidden away to the public eye, but often shared between two kindred spirits underneath the man in the moon's watchful eye. Jungkook, as he reaches his maturity, grows strong. His jaw sharpens, and his eyes darken. His hair grows long, and he gains weight. Now at the proud age of 20, Jungkook had become a man before everyone's eyes, including the eyes of foreign monarchs and their eligible bachelorettes.

One day, you're serving the Royal family at a private dinner, when the topic of marriage comes up for the first time since his birthday.

"Your mother has made friends with the mother of the Austrian Princess, and she's invited you to the cordial ball to introduce yourself to the Princess. An allyship with Austria would prove advantageous for our relations with France, so you are to make your best impression." The King wipes his mouth. Setting his fork down, he continues: "It is in the family's best interest for you to marry her, if the French Princess, Anastasie, does not present this season or the next." The Queen holds the King's hand firmly, reassuring him from his shoulder. She wears a slight frown on her face, her eyes worrisome, somber. The King hides his anxiety, as he's been accustomed to from decades of responsibility. Would this be the face of Jungkook soon?

For now, Jungkook's face is scrunching at the thought of marrying Anastasie. She's not the most delightful young woman, her imprudence ruined her enjoyment of any event. She couldn't keep an intuitive conversation about regional politics and domestic policy for the life of her. Her people were on the brink of overthrowing the aristocracy, he was sure of it.

"Yes, father," is what you hear from him before you disappear down the stairs to fetch desserts.

Jiyoo interrupts your quest for sweets with a letter, signed by His Grace. She has a naturally innocent demeanor, her cheeks rosy and her frame as delicate as a feather. "Y/N, you have another special request from His Majesty...can I ask you why you get so many of these?" She looks genuinely curious, not a single menacing thought behind those eyes.

"It's because the Prince really really loves his cake." I mean, technically it was true. Jungkook never passed up an opportunity to squeeze, smack, or dig his fingernails into your ass during your sessions.

"Oh." Jiyoo pouts. "So it's not because you're like, in love or anything?" Her eyes are glued to the floor. You were expecting this question eventually, as the other girls in the kitchen were already suspecting it. It was only a matter of time before word slipped into the girl's ears.

"As much as I enjoy the Prince's interest in my baking, it isn't my place to confess any sort of feeling for him." Your answer is straightforward enough, so Jiyoo nods and hands you the letter. Another request.

Outside the Palace, Winter came like the wind. Lakes froze over, and couples tied up their skates and danced on the ice. The trees were bare and brown, not a single leaf persisting through the chilling breath of Jack Frost.

Jungkook had left for the Winter Palace, to volunteer and raise spirits up in the North. As heir to the throne, he was to be Commander in Chief of the Royal Armed Forces, and therefore needed to undergo intensive training in order to boost morale.

You're back home, and in your wake is your father, who has now grown tangibly tired. He's been on a strict diet of warm vegetable soup for about three months, now. His eyes are sunken, but he still wears a subtle smile even during his most trying days.

Match girls make their rounds at night, you watch as the lamplighters illuminate the streets with their tall ladders and their taller peacoats. Shop windows glow warm shades of yellow and creme; inscriptions on the glass create shadows on the white snow.

"Wow. It's almost as cold as the King's heart out here." You step outside one day with a cup of tea, sneaking in a cheeky smirk. Yeah, good one.

"I heard that!" You turn towards the little voice. A child, maybe about 9 or 10 years old is pointing at you. You squint at it.

"Well, it's true..." You mumble. You have a bit of change in your pocket, so you walk towards a stand to buy a hot bun and a paper.

"Chilly today, hon...Best you take this on the house." The tenant hands you a steaming cake wrapped in a simple cloth and your paper. You stick the paper in your dress pocket and take back your change. You nod a 'thank you.'

You spill the contents of your pockets on the dining table and snatch the paper, snapping it open. Your eyes eagerly skim the headline: "Prince Jungkook Fires Up Royal Army." Below is an article detailing the happenings of His Majesty. All of it sounded very intense, the running, strategizing, first aid training...Was there anything Prince Jeon couldn't nail on the first try?

You set the paper down and pick up your now lukewarm tea. In the back of your mind you're coping with the fact that the Spring Solstice is next week, and that marks the beginning of Jungkook's last season as a Prince.

The King is ill with tuberculosis, and recovery is unlikely. If Jungkook is to marry, it is next season and that was final.

Sitting at the window of his Winter Castle study, Jungkook plays with a ring nestled between his fingers. He looks out onto the lake, as if he's trying to reach you with his gaze. His heart is tight knowing that it would be the season he chooses his bride. Actually, he'd already made up his mind long ago. If his duty was to marry, there was no way to evade such a responsibility. He had to fulfill it, despite his anxieties.

He straightens up and walks out of the hollow room with a firm step.

You awaken with the sound of horse's hooves thudding against the Earth. It is yet to be dawn, and in the distance, thunder roars mightily.

A figure wearing a long, black hood hoists itself off of the animal, tying it to a nearby post. It walks towards an obscure entrance, unknown to many staff.

Intrigued, you wrap a blanket around yourself and peek out at the stranger. His fingers are shorter than his palms, and that's when he tosses of his hood, his eyes set on you. "Y/N..."

You're bewildered by his guise, questions filling your head.

"I was horny, so I left camp" He sits down at the counter, catapulting a cookie into his mouth.

You roll your eyes. "And the guards let you?! Jungkook!" You whisper-yelled at him, readjusting your makeshift blanket-dress.

"Obviously not!" He puffed out his chest with pride. "I bribed them," he smirks.

"You're insufferable," you scoff, your eyes wandering down to observe his physique. His shirt is anything but conservative, highlighting the muscle he'd earned through laborious, sweat-inducing drills. You can feel his eyes on your face as you observe him.

"You can't hide it either," he crosses his arms. "You're standing in the kitchen with a blanket around your naked body." He flicks his tongue. He steps forward, putting a finger under your jaw so you're looking him in the eye.

Your eyes fill with lust as he speaks over your lips. "Look at yourself..." A crash is heard in the other room.

Jungkook's head darts up and in a flash, he disappears into the night.

'Fuck.' You gather your dress from the floor and shuffle back to your chamber.

The first event of the season commences with the most exaltant of spirits as friends of old greet each other with youthful smiles. Juicy exposés, enticing tales, and thoughtful greetings are exchanged in the most formal manner, and the conversation is lively; the most controversial topic of conversation, however, is the rumor that Jungkook is to marry this season.

So far, he's been to four different private residences within his own Kingdom and has been invited, by the secretary of King Louis XVII to meet their daughter. It would be an understatement to say that stakes were high for the pending King.

You were kneading your dough a little too hard thinking about it. "Not so rough, y/n!" Ms.Kang snatches the mixture from your hands. "What is up with you lately, you're so tense! It's really disrupting the kitchen's dynamic."

You shrug it off. "It's going to be hard sedating Anastasie's sweet tooth, I suppose."

"Well, you seem to be doing just fine dealing with Jungkook's addiction to cakes...She's perfect for him, really." Ms.Kang throws more flour on your kneading table and steps off. You give up on the dough, covering it with a cloth and letting it rise.

Jungkook is tapping his feet, munching on finger sandwiches as he waits on you to make an appearance.

"Dearest Prince, look, I am wearing Mediterranean violet!" A duchess shouts as she passes by him, to which he raises his eyebrows at. Another, with dark green eyes approaches and begins speaking rapidly in French at him. Frightened and undereducated, his canned response was: "Excusez-moi, Pouvez-vous répéter plus lentement s'il vous plaît," to which the duchess furrows her eyebrows before something else catches her attention, elsewhere.

Truth is, Jungkook is incredibly shaken at the thought of announcing his engagement tonight. Well, that and the fact that you had yet to pop out of the kitchen. Man, those finger sandwiches were good.

As the night progresses, Jungkook realizes that if he doesn't get up on that platform and say what he needed to say, he'd have to say it in London. Setting his fears aside, he plants himself on top of the orchestral stage and taps a champagne glass with a cheese fork. The music comes to a stop.

With conviction, he begins: "The time has come that I announce my engagement. To all of my beloved friends, who have introduced me to the most beautiful, talented, diverse, and benevolent ladies I've come to get to know over the years, I thank you from the depths of my soul." He swallows and continues, his confident voice masking his trembling. "The life of a Prince is defined by the virtues presented to him at birth. Those virtues are: duty, responsibility, grace, kindness, mercy and integrity." Here comes the part, oh shit.

"I am abdicating my throne to my Cousin, the Duke of Namseong."

Silence sweeps the room. You poke your head out to see what was going on.

"...to marry the love of my life, y/n." He points at you. Your face is cherry red, and you find yourself dropping those same Danish fucking pastries all over the carpet.

"Shit," you fall on your knees, plucking them from the ground one by one. You don't know whether to run as fast as you can or to present yourself, but your body seems to be currently doing the latter. You go along with it.

Jungkook takes your hand tenderly on the stage. "I am unable to perform my duties as King, and therefore am ineligible for the throne." His touch gives you the will to continue beside him. You feel the pure fear rushing through your love's veins, and he knows that this is the hardest thing he'll ever have to do, yet he stands by his announcement.

So, if Jungkook doesn't get to be King of this World, he at least will forever be the King of Your Heart.

But all this, of course...is all in Your, dear reader, Head.

a/n:

hope you enjoyed.

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helloalycia · 4 years ago

Text

overstepping [one] // jane banner (Wind River)

summary: after getting several voicemails from your colleague and best friend with her asking for your backup, you attempt to call her back, only to get no answer.

warning/s: mentions of rape, murder and injuries.

author’s note: this is a two parter because i finally watched Wind River and it broke my heart but also lizzie was v cute and i felt the need to write this, hope you like it x

part two | masterlist | wattpad

"C'mon, work you stupid phone," I complained for the millionth time, before standing on the chair to get a better signal.

When I saw the bars in the corner of the screen increase, a grin appeared on my lips. I loved my parents, but the fact that they lived in a remote cabin in Tennessee with zero signal was not my favourite thing.

When the bars remained, my phone decided to actually be helpful and receive all the messages, calls and voicemails I missed. I did a brief flick through, noticing nothing was too important that couldn't wait for me to return to work. As an FBI agent, I rarely got time off. And now that I had taken a two month vacation to spend with my parents, I was adamant on enjoying it, even if I was missing work a smidge.

Next were the calls, which I noticed were mostly from my colleague and close friend, Jane Banner. I furrowed my brows, realising she'd left me several voicemails, too, which was strange since she knew I was on a break from work. What could be so important?

I sighed, glancing down at my uncomfortable position standing on the chair and leaning above the wardrobe. It was the only place in the house with decent signal and the only other place that wasn’t in the middle of nowhere was twenty minutes out. Telling myself I'd just listen to one voicemail to make sure everything was okay, I played the earliest message.

"Hey, Y/N. I'm sorry, I know you're on a break, but I just had to talk to you," it began, and Jane sounded troubled. "I was in Vegas, as you know, but I've been called out to a reservation in Wyoming where this poor girl was–" She paused, releasing a shaky breath. "She was raped and left to die out in the cold. I thought I could send in another team to take a look – y'know, usual protocol. But the coroner won't rule it a homicide and you know what that means."

I swallowed hard, knowing exactly what that meant. If it wasn't ruled a homicide, no backup would come and we had to move onto the next case. But if this girl was raped and left to die, the rapist was still out there and wasn't getting caught by the FBI.

"I can't just leave it and go," Jane continued quietly, with that recognisable passion for her job evident in her voice. "I have to do what I can. But I... I can't do this alone. It's not like other cases, Y/N. It's different out here. And there's only so much their police department can do. I know you're on a break, but I was hoping that, maybe, you could come out here and help me? It's the Wind River Indian Reservation. That's it, I guess. Bye."

The message ended and I found myself chewing on my lower lip anxiously, unable to think about anything other than Jane now. She'd worried me with that one voicemail alone – I couldn't imagine what the others said.

She was usually so good at dealing with cases, but this seemed different. She sounded shaken up, attempting to put on a brave face by the sounds of it. What was so different about this case? She didn't need me. She was capable.

Curiosity got the better of me and I played the second message, ignoring the discomfort in my arms as I stretched to maintain the signal. It was left a day after the first one.

"Hey, so I just remembered that you said you don't get much signal up there with your parents," she began apologetically. "I don't mean to– shit, it's so cold..." There was a pause, a noise in the background, then she continued, "Sorry, just turning up the heating. Anyway, I was saying. I don't mean to intrude on your break. I just– I'm hoping you'll find signal and hear this because I could really use your help. I think we've got a lead on who may have done it. It was hectic today. Really could've used that backup."

She chuckled dryly at her attempt at a joke, but all I felt was guilt. She sounded exhausted within a day of being there.

"I hope you get this," she finished with a sigh. "I should go. Got a busy day tomorrow. Hope you're doing okay. Bye."

I wasted no time in playing the next message. Three days into her case.

"I don't know why I keep sending these," she began with a hoarse voice, and my heart clenched at the sound of it. "You clearly aren't getting them in time. But it's easier talking to you like this than not at all."

It went quiet, so quiet that I thought she may have finished and forgot to hang up. But then she spoke up again, a whimper escaping her lips.

"It's so hard," she admitted. "We've covered worse cases, but this one... everything about it makes me uncomfortable. Something doesn't feel right. I've got a lead – we think it might be the boyfriend who did it and we're gonna see him tomorrow. But I don't know."

I frowned, squeezing my phone tightly because I didn't recognise the girl speaking as my friend. This girl sounded broken and I wondered what she could have discovered that made her like this.

"I've got the police department with me for backup," she said with a sniffle. "And Cory, he's a hunter whose been helping me with the case. They're all gonna be with me tomorrow. But I wish you were here, too. You always make things easier."

The lump in my throat wouldn't disappear no matter how many times I swallowed it. She made things easier, too. Always. And all I wanted to was be by her side and be there for her like she always was for me.

"Sorry about this," she said with a watery laugh, and I could imagine the embarrassed smile on her face as she did. "I sound like such an idiot. Never mind these messages. Just enjoy your break. I shouldn't be worrying you like this. See you when you get back."

The message ended and I checked to see if there were anymore, but to my disappointment, there wasn't. That message was from a few days ago and she hadn't sent anything since which was concerning in itself.

Trying not to panic for no reason, I called Jane. Hopefully everything was okay and I was being stupid. She was a fully-trained FBI agent. She could take care of herself. Right?

The call rang and rang, but nobody picked up. One missed call. No biggie. She probably heard it and couldn't find her phone or something. So, I tried again.

More ringing and no answer. Okay, no big deal. Just try again.

Another call and no answer. The chewing on my lip became more intense. Why the hell wasn't she picking up? Was she still working the case?

I waited an hour, trying again at ten minute intervals, unable to fight my concern. But there was no answer every time and I realised that I couldn't sit and wait for her to call back. Not after how she sounded in those voicemails.

No, I had to go there. She needed backup.

—

Wyoming was way colder than I could have prepared for.

I mean, technically, I prepared for nothing. I bid my parents a goodbye, threw some random clothes in a bag and caught the next plane over there. I tried for Jane's phone constantly, knowing she was never one to ignore me for this long, but there was no point. She wasn't answering, which could only mean so much.

When I reached the reservation, I had no idea where anything was or what I was looking for exactly. I just knew that as soon as the taxi dropped me off in the centre of town, I didn't know where to go.

There were a lot of locals hanging around, so my first port of call was to ask them if they'd seen Jane around – or Agent Banner, as she may have introduced herself. I showed them a picture of her on my phone, described her with vivid detail, but they just stared at me like I was crazy. I was starting to believe I was at one point, until I stopped by the convenience store.

As worried as I was for Jane's whereabouts, the chill in my bones was real. Especially my hands, which I was certain would fall off any minute. So, I decided to buy some gloves and also ask the cashier if he'd seen Jane around or heard anything of her. Whilst I was doing that, a customer caught my attention, probably having overheard my conversation.

"Did you say Jane Banner?" he asked with a quirked brow, interrupting my purchase. "The FBI lady, right?"

I nodded quickly, facing him. "Yes, that's her! D'you know where she is?"

He nodded casually. "Yeah, she's in the hospital. That big shootout that happened a few days ago, right?"

My stomach dropped. "The what?"

"The shootout," he repeated, not aware of the concern in my face. "At the drill site. A bunch of officers were killed and the FBI lady was one of the only one left standing." He tutted as he shook his head. "Very lucky that one."

A shootout? The hospital? Only one left standing? No wonder she hadn't been answering her calls.

"Can you– do you–" I stopped, clearing my throat and trying to stop freaking out. "Which hospital?"

After getting the address from him, I caught a taxi to the only hospital in town and prayed to God that Jane was okay. The one thing she'd asked for was backup and I couldn't even give her that. If I'd just looked at my messages sooner... fuck.

Getting past the front desk and to Jane's room was no issue at all. A quick flash of my FBI badge was enough for the receptionist to give me the details and wave me through. My heart was constricting in my chest the longer it took. What if it was really bad? What if that customer's intel was outdated and Jane was– no. I couldn't afford to think like that.

Upon finding Jane's room, I spotted an older man leaving through the door, being careful to close it behind him. I didn't recognise him at all.

"Excuse me," I called, earning his attention. "Is that Jane Banner's room you just came from?"

He seemed surprised, glancing over his shoulder to make sure I was speaking to him, before nodding. "Yes. Sorry, who are you?"

I pulled my badge from my pocket and showed him, though I doubted anyone would take me seriously when my eyes were watering at thought of Jane being severely injured.

"I'm her friend," I said, swallowing down the lump in my throat before lowering my badge.

"Oh, you're the backup that didn't come," he said with realisation.

My eyes flickered to the floor guiltily. He wasn't exactly wrong.

"I didn't mean it like that," he added quickly. "Sorry, I didn't mean to upset you."

I shook my head, lifting my eyes to meet his. "It's okay. I should've... I should've been here." It went quiet as he didn't know what to say, so I looked to him halfheartedly. "I assume you're from the police department, one of the ones who helped Jane."

"Not exactly," he said, before putting out his hand for me to shake. "Name's Cory. I'm a hunter by trade."

Returning his handshake, I recalled Jane's voicemail. "Oh, yeah, she mentioned you... thank you for helping her out."

When I couldn’t, I added in my head.

He offered me a small smile and I couldn't find it in myself to return it. I must have looked like shit, since he gave me a pitiful gaze.

"You want me to catch you up before you go in?" he asked, nodding to Jane's door. "She's okay by the way."

I nodded, sucking up a breath. My nerves were eating away at me the longer I didn't see Jane – half of me was terrified of what I'd find, and the other half was afraid she'd be upset or angry because I left her to it, even when she pleaded for my help.

Cory and I took a seat down the hall and he proceeded to explain about the case and how they found the guy who raped that poor girl. The shootout was the worst bit, making me shiver with discomfort. Apparently, Jane had gotten blasted with a shotgun, puncturing her torso and neck despite the vest she wore. All of the officers with her were killed and by the sounds of it, Jane almost was, too. But Cory managed to take out the criminals and the rapist himself. When he was finished telling me, I had no words.

"She's a bit shaken up, but her surgery went well," Cory reassured with a short nod. "Does she know you're coming?"

I shook my head, voice thick with emotion. "She wouldn't answer her phone. I guess I know why now."

Cory nodded, rubbing the back of his neck before sparing me a consoling glance. "She talked about you a lot. I think it'll cheer her up seeing you. You should go."

My eyes met his, teary and stinging with unshed tears. "Thank you so much."

He shrugged bashfully, but he didn't realise all that he'd done. I gave him a small, tight smile before standing up with a sigh. No point dwelling anymore – I had to see her.

Pushing my selfish feelings aside, I sucked it up and approached Jane's room. She would either want to punch me or not, but either way, I had to see if she was okay. And so, when I opened the door slightly, heart racing in my chest, said heart jumped in my throat at the sight of her.

She was laying on the bed with wires stuck in her and, only from what I could see, bandages were covering the side of her neck. I thought she was sleeping at first, but then her head tilted towards the door curiously, and bright blue eyes widened with disbelief.

"Y/N?" she asked, raising her eyebrows. "What are you– how did you get here?"

I closed the door behind me and hesitantly approached her bedside, unable to stop my eyes from soaking in the sight of her. She looked so feeble and vulnerable and unlike how I saw her last. Then, Cory's words came back to me and I began to imagine the worst scenario of her getting shot, blood seeping from her wounds, the life draining from her eyes...

"Y/N," she called, and I looked to her startlingly, hoping I didn't look as troubled as I felt.

"Sorry," I said, clearing my throat. "I, er– the messages. Voicemail. I heard them and tried calling you back, but..."

She pursed her lips, exhaling with a wince and looking up at the ceiling, as if suddenly remembering she left messages in the first place.

"I'm sorry I didn't come sooner," I said quietly, guilt seeping back in.

"No, no, don't be," she said, and I just about noticed the pink dusting her cheeks. "It's not your fault. I shouldn't have interrupted your vacation like that. I know you said you wanted a break and–"

"Jane, no, don't even say that," I cut her off, reaching for her hand in an instant. She looked my way, eyes flickering between mine nervously. I squeezed her hand gently and said, "I should have been here. You needed me and I– I didn't come. Maybe if I had, this could have ended differently."

She tried to smile, but I could see the discomfort in her eyes. "It's not that bad, honestly. It just looks bad."

I pressed my lips together, eyes falling to the bandage on her neck. Even though it was big and covered her wound, I could still make out the bruising around it from the impact of the shell. I didn't imagine the torso wound looking any different, and that thought alone made me regret leaving her alone. It was very much as bad as it looked; I knew that and she knew that.

Her lips trembled as she avoided my eyes, her own tearing up. I pushed away my guilt momentarily and changed the subject.

"So, I met Cory. He seems like a great guy."

She didn't say anything as she seemed lost in thought. Either that or she was trying not to cry in front of me. I hoped it wasn't the latter, since the last thing I wanted was to make her feel uncomfortable.

"You know," I said, when she wouldn't speak, "I'm pretty sure I told you to stay safe before I left for my vacation."

At my poor attempt to lighten the mood, she cracked a small, tight smile, but a smile nonetheless, and my racing heart slowed down momentarily.

"I'm glad you're okay," I said, now that I had her attention again, and she looked my way with a softened expression. "Kind of okay. But you know... okay."

Thankfully, she knew what I meant and her hand tightened around mine.

"I'm glad you came," she returned, and I couldn't look away even if I tried. She was always able to trap me with a single gaze.

With a tug of her hand, she motioned for me to sit on the edge of her bed, so I did. And then she began to ask me about my vacation, what I'd been up to this past month, how my parents were... basically anything and everything except for the case. And it was understandable, since she was reminded of it all the time. If I could be a form of escapism for her, so be it. It was the least I could do.

We spoke for hours until the nurse came in to let me know visiting hours were over and I'd have to come back tomorrow. With a regretful sigh, I got up from my seat on her bedside and stretched my limbs.

"Where are you staying?" she asked, a slight frown on her lips.

I smiled awkwardly, realising I didn't think that far ahead. "I'm not gonna lie, I don't know. I came straight here. There's gotta be a hotel or something in this town, right?"

She nodded and flicked her hand to the shelves on the other side of the room. "You should stay in my room in the inn. Key's in my bag over there."

"Oh, I don't have to do that–"

"Y/N, it's not like I'm going to be staying there anytime soon," she cut me off, smiling halfheartedly. "Please."

I chewed on my lip and nodded, giving in. When I grabbed her keys from her bag, I stopped by her bedside and gave her a supportive smile.

"I'll back first thing in the morning, if you don't mind," I said, and she finally gave me a smile that reached her eyes.

"I'd like that."

I nodded, resting a hand on hers and squeezing comfortingly. "Goodnight."

—

Though I knew Jane was okay, I still couldn't stop myself from thinking about her all night. The sight of her wounds and the broken expression on her face was enough to keep me awake. And the guilt that came with it all... why couldn't I have just picked up my damn phone?

As promised, I returned to Jane's hospital room the next morning, this time bringing some breakfast snacks from the hospital cafeteria since I knew the food would be much better than whatever they were serving her. Judging by the content expression on her face when I gave it to her, I was right.

When she finished eating, she was able to sit up slightly and move over on her bed, urging for me to join her and watch some TV with her. There was no way I was going to turn down that offer, so I slid next to her and kept a packet of sliced apples between us as we watched whatever was playing on the TV.

About halfway through watching, she spoke up randomly, taking me by surprise.

"When are you leaving?"

I tore my gaze from the screen and realised she was staring at me with intense green eyes.

"When you're well enough to," I answered truthfully.

She looked down to her hands. "You don't have to stay with me. You can go."

I studied her profile, knowing it was the wrong time to appreciate how stunning she looked even when she was makeup-free, sporting a bed head and tired.

"Do you want me to go?" I asked softly, afraid I may have overstepped.

She was quick to shake her head slightly, finally lifting her gaze to meet mine with glossy ones. "No."

I nodded, trying very hard not to smile, cleared my throat and grabbed her hand. "Then I'm not leaving. I'll be right here until you get better and I can take you home."

A ragged breath escaped her lips as she nodded in response. We both looked back to the TV and I noticed she didn't let go of my hand, her fingers warm to the touch and giving me goosebumps at the contact. But I wouldn't have had it any other way.

#jane banner #jane banner x you #jane banner x reader #jane banner imagine #elizabeth olsen x you #elizabeth olsen x reader #elizabeth olsen imagine #wind river imagine #wind river

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meadow-dusk · 2 years ago

Note

Hey! When did you first discover Neil, and what’s your favorite thing about him?

oh anon...how much time do you have? 😅

I have a long list of my favorite things about him that has been several months in the works. I found him on July 1, 2020, and almost every day since then, I find new reasons to love him more. It flows from me so naturally. I can try to say this succinctly. I will fail.

Neil is one of the best people in rock'n'roll. I say this without regard to the breadth of his musicianship, technical proficiency, uniquely emotive voice, lyrical poeticism, insanely prolific multi-decade catalog, obsessive attention to detail and quality, and drive to avoid stagnation at all costs. I really think, based on all that I've learned in the two years since I opened up my life to his music, that he is a genuinely good, kind person.

I know I don't actually know him. I never will. But there are so many concrete examples of him sticking to his guns when it's not what it would be easiest to do, or even when it upsets people. Look at this past year alone (shouldn't surprise us: this is the same man who refused to be filmed at Woodstock, the largest music festival of a generation because he felt the commercialization of it undermined the importance of the connection between the artists and the people that were physically there). Imagine that. It's just what he does. He goes out of his way to do what he thinks is right, even when no one is in his corner. He sets the standard, and he doesn't compromise. And what that feels like by the time it reaches my ears is that he challenges me to be better, but at the same time he is nothing less than completely accepting of me where I am.

Neil taught me more lessons than I could ever articulate in the space of a single post: about love, about myself, about the world, about the necessary clash between realism and idealism. He sets a real, genuine example for me by expressing what he feels are his own shortcomings and some inexplicable desire to seek and protect the things that really matter. He feels intimately relatable to me on a soul-kinship level, and in no small part because he shares my feelings on a lot of issues that matter a lot to me. He publicly puts himself through the soul-searching reflection when it's time to make an inconvenient change, and he was always "there" when I had to go through my own. He decorates my time with the most beautiful music I have ever heard, full of feelings I don't totally understand, and he invites me to consider and to learn and grow in that space.

I'm grateful every single day that he's part of my life in the small way that I have him in it. Now I'm gonna include this picture of him that I love a lot because this is a great opportunity to do it. Thanks for letting me gush about him on main tonight 💕

#literally like four hours ago I was thinking I can't believe I have only been listening to him for 2 years. what was I doing with my life #❤️#thank you for this!!!#asks

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rowyn-writes · 4 years ago

Text

Confidence (Jack x Reader)

Warnings: Fluff, strong language, arguing siblings

Pairings: Jack Kline x Winchester!Reader

Characters: Sam, Dean, Jack, Castiel (mentioned only,) Claire (mentioned only.)

Word Count: 2124

Summary: You start to notice that Jack tends to stay by your side whenever he can.

Requested by: @nancyangel

Part Two: Dying From a Broken Heart

You sat in your room in the bunker, casually reading on of your many books that lined your walls. You were a bookworm, much like you older brother, Sam. You liked being by yourself with your books and a cup of coffee, as cliche as it sounds.

Right now, you needed an escape from your world and into another one where you know how everything ends. Your half brothers, Sam and Dean we're currently trying to figure out a way to get their mother back from apocalypse world.

You were John's daughter, being the youngest Winchester there was. Along with being the baby of the family, your brothers were over protective of you.

Most of the time you weren't allowed out on a hunt, so you stayed in the bunker and helped with lore and things like that while Sam and Dean would do the hunting.

Lately, however, you were getting more involved, much to your brother's dismay. You loved Sam and Dean with all your heart, but they could be overbearing at times.

You closed your book when you heard a knock on your door. "It's open." You called.

Jack popped his head into the room. "Hey, Y/n. Can I come in?" He asked.

"Sure." You nodded.

Jack took a seat on the chair that sat in front of your small desk. "What's up?"

"Sam and Dean are going on a hunt and I was wondering if you were going?" This was news to you. You're had no idea that your brothers were going on a hunting trip.

You frowned as you go up off your position on the bed. "Now I am." You said, getting your bag ready. "You coming too?"

"Yes." Jack nodded. You told him to finish packing while you did the same.

"Going somewhere, gentlemen?" You asked just as Sam and Dean were about to walk out of the bunker.

Dean let his head fall as he sighed. "You're not coming."

"The hell I'm not." You snapped.

"Dean's right." Sam agreed. "You should sit this one out."

You let out a frustrated grunt. "C'mon. Why are you still treating me like I'm twelve? I'm almost 22."

"You're not ready, Y/n."

"I'm not ready?" You scoffed. "But you let Jack go, and technically, he's barely three months old."

"That's different." Dean said.

"How?! How is that different?! I grew up hunting with you guys and Dad, I know what to do!" You argued.

"It's different because you'll die if something happens! Jack has powers and can defend himself! You don't!" Dean hissed.

"This is ridiculous!" You huffed.

"Maybe next time, Y/n." Sam gave you a smile, which you didn't return. "Alright, Jack!" Sam called out. "Let's go!"

Jack appeared beside them in a second, making you jump slightly. "See you later, Y/n." Dean said. He looked like he wanted to give you a hug but decided against it, because you might knee him in the groin if you had the chance.

"You're not coming, Y/n?" Jack asked, seeming disappointed.

"Apparently not."

Jack seemed to hesitate by the door. "On second thought, I think I'll stay here. You guys don't really need my help, do you?"

Sam and Dean seemed surprised by his change of plans. Jack had been wanting to go on a hunting trip with them for a while. "I guess not." Sam said. And with that, they were gone.

"Why didn't you go with them?" You asked Jack. "You've been wanting to go on a hunting trip with them for a while, so why did you back out?"

"I thought you could use the company." He shrugged.

. .

. . .

Sam and Dean returned about two days later, clearly pleased that you and Jack had stayed at the bunker. You had thought of finding you own case, maybe even hunting with Claire, but decided against it.

But that doesn't mean you still weren't pissed at your brothers. They kept treating you like you were five, when you were 21. It was infuriating. That's why you were determined to find a case.

"Hey, so look what I found." You said, holding your computer up to your brothers. "Five people dead. All found without their hearts. However, there was six victims. One survived. If we can find out who's killing these people, we can put down the son of a bitch."

"Where's this happening at?" Dean asked gruffly.

"Little Rock, Arkansas."

Dean nodded his head. "Okay. Sammy, pack your things, Y/n, send us the address. We'll call you when you get there."

"Wait a minute." You protested. "You said that I would get to come with you on the next hunt! This is the next hunt."

"No."

"No?"

"No. You're not coming."

"Oh come on!" You yelled angrily. "You have got to be kidding me! You promised that you would take me out on the hunt!"

"I never promised." Dean reminded her. "I never make promises I can't keep. You know that."

"You're being ridiculous! C'mon Sam, back me up here." You looked over to the man, giving him pleading eyes.

"I think Y/n's right Dean." He agreed. "We've seen what she can do, handling a werewolf or two isn't anything she can't handle."

Dean frowned, looking back and forth between you and Sam. "I'm not gonna win this argument, am I?"

"Nope."

"Fine. Go pack your things. Tell Jack to do the same." You nodded, calmly walking away. But as soon as you were out of sight from Sam and Dean, you gave a tiny squeal and did a little dance.

"Are we celebrating something?" Jack asked from behind you, making you jump slightly.

You gave him a big smile. "That we are, Jack. Sam and Dean are letting us go on a hunt! So pack your bags, we leave in an hour!"

You quickly packed your bag full of clothes and other essentials and put them in the trunk of the Impala.

Jack sat in the back seat with you; it was only logical, since Sam was the Jolly Green Giant and could barely fit back there.

While you loved the Impala, you did not love the kind of music that played constantly. As Sam once put it, "It's the greatest hits of Mullet Rock." So you had brought your phone and a pair of earbuds.

"What are you doing?" Jack asked curiously.

"Listening to music."

"But Dean has music playing?" He furrowed his eyebrows, making your heart soar at his cute little scrunched up face.

"Yeah, well, Dean and I have very different tastes in music. Here, listen to this." You gave him the other earbud you had.

Jack seemed to like your selection of music, as he grinned as the song played on. After a while of driving, your legs began to cramp. Whether you were tall or short, being in the back of the Impala for a long time did nothing to help your legs.

You tried to find a position where you weren't invading Jack's bubble, as not to touch him because you didn't know how he would react.

"You can stretch out your legs." Jack said, as if reading your thoughts. "I don't mind." You gave him a grateful smile as you rested your legs in his lap.

About four hours in, you began to doze off. Car rides were always relaxing to you, seeing your surroundings blur as you sped past, feeling the Impala rock beneath you, and being able to spread out in the back seat.

Although, you couldn't count how many times you had to disinfect the back seat because of your brothers. Mostly Dean.

You were woken up rather unpleasantly by Dean. You had been leaning against the door of the Impala when he yanked the door open, causing you to tumble out of the car. "Thanks for the awesome wake-up call, dick." You growled.

"No problem, fuck-face." He grinned as he helped you up. You grabbed your stuff and checked into your motel room.

It was like every other motel you've ever stayed at, rock hard beds, ugly wall patterns, and a small box T.V.

You went ahead and changed into your FBI clothes, a light blue button down shirt tucked into a pair of black jeans, matching boots and a blazer. "You boys ready?" You asked, exiting the bathroom to see all of them had changed into their uniforms.

You all piled into the Impala once more and headed to the local police station, and then to the hospital.

. .

. . .

You had found out nothing. There was no victimology, no connection, nothing. You figured there wouldn't be a pattern, it was a werewolf, after all.

You did know, however, that the werewolf was a Purebred, as the moon cycle didn't line up with the victims deaths.

And the surviving victim was a fifteen year old girl. Thankfully, she hadn't been bitten. But she was in so much shock that she couldn't remember her attackers face.

"Poor girl." You commented, shrugging off your blazer. "She's never going to be the same."

"She'll learn to cope." Dean assured you. "Okay, so Jack and I are gonna go to where the bodies were found and dig around a little, you and Sam stay here and see what you can find out about this town. See if there's any kind of pattern with the killings."

"Actually, could I stay here with Y/n and help her?" Jack asked.

Dean looked taken aback slightly. "Uh, yeah, sure kid. Sammy, let's go." Once the two brothers were in the car, Dean looked over at Sam. "Jack has a crush on Y/n." He frowned.

Sam snorted. "Okay? And you couldn't tell that before? I kinda thought it was obvious."

Dean cuffed Sam. "Alright, Captain Jack-ass. I was just saying maybe we shouldn't leave Y/n and Jack alone."

"Oh, please." Sam scoffed. "Nothing's gonna happen."

You got out your laptop and sat on one of the beds. You noticed that Jack was watching you from the couch. It was obvious be wanted to say something.

"Hey, Jack?"

"Yes, Y/n?" He looked excited to see that you engaged in a conversation with him first.

"How come you wanted to stay behind with me?"

"Oh, did you want me to go with Dean?" Jack seemed disappointed.

"No, no. That's not it!" You assured him quickly. He looked extremely relieved to hear that. "I was just curious. On the last hunt that Sam and Dean went on, you decided to stay behind with me too. And whenever I go out to grab food or something, you always come with me. I love your company, so please don't take that the wrong way. I was just wondering."

Jack thought over your words for a few moments before answering. "I don't really feel confident around anyone. Sometimes I feel like another burden onto Sam, Dean and Cas. But with you, I feel like I'm not judged."

"You're not judged by any of us, Jack. You know that." You frowned.

"I know that, I just can't help but feel that way sometimes. But things are different with you. I feel confident and safe, like I can be myself whenever you're around. I enjoy being around you, Y/n."

You felt your heart melt at Jack's words. You felt exactly the same way about him. While growing up, you never really had boyfriends, just a one night stand here and there (which your brothers definitely didn't know about.)

"Jack." You started. "Do you see me the same way you see Sam and Dean?"

"No. It feels different. I can't really explain it. It's like. . . When I'm with you, I can feel my heart start to beat faster, and my palms get kind of sweaty. I don't do that when I'm around Sam and Dean." He explained.

You smiled as you realized what he was saying. "Jack, I think that means you have a crush on me."

"Crush you?!" Jack looked startled. "I would never hurt you!"

"No, no, no! That's not what I meant." You sighed as you tried to break it down to him. "It means you really like someone, but not as a friend. Kind of like a boyfriend or girlfriend."

Realization dawned on Jack as he soaked in your words. "Then can I be your boyfriend?" He asked eagerly.

You gave a small laugh. "Yeah, you can." You kissed him on the cheek. Jack's face became pink under your gaze.

"Could I kiss your lips?" You didn't answer as your lips brushed over his.

"Does that answer your question?" He nodded happily as a smile formed on his face. He felt happy and safe with you standing in front of him.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

I was thinking about making a part two? Tell me what you think!

#dean winchester imagine #sam winchester imagine #castiel imagine #gabriel imagine #dean winchester x reader #sam winchester x reader #jack kline imagine #jack kline x reader #jack kline x winchester!reader

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sorry-apsalar · 3 years ago

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Wait, See, and Hope

Another prompt from Ao3: "Angsty mood rn so... How would bender react if Fry was in a life or death situation, died TEMPORARILY - I'M NOT DOING THAT TO THEM - then came back to him. Fry dying on him would probably be traumatic since he loves him."

Because I've already written a piece in which the exact thing the prompt was asking for happens (though from Fry's POV so maybe it doesn't really count but I think it does) I considered writing a drabble in which Fry dies for reals and doesn't come back in any way because I love writing a good dramatic death scene. I didn't though mostly because the requester very clearly didn't want that kind of thing (if they hadn't specified that though I would've done it). So instead I decided to do a prequel for a previous drabble of mine, specifically the one in my Frender Week fic, chapter/day 4: Fluff or Angst, because I intended to at one point but never got around to it. This provided a good opening for it. So if you wanna know how this situation ends go check out that fic and chapter (spoilers that shouldn't be surprising given the above prompt, it has a happy ending).

“Woohoo! Bender wins again!” Victorious, Bender straightened from the chair he’d been ducking behind while Leela shot at the pirates trying to take over the ship.

“We were lucky it was only a small crew.” Leela’s tone and glare indicated she didn’t feel particularly inclined to revel in their victory. Not only was that boring it was also extremely lame. “Maybe this’ll teach you not to steal from pirates. Though knowing you, the fact that you technically got away with it means you’ll only be encouraged to do it again.”

Bender chuckled because that was true. This had been beyond worth it and he was totally going to do it again the next chance he got. He could practically see it now; he’d be rich and famous for stealing from galaxy’s most powerful space pirates.

Eager to share this budding idea and revel in their current victory with someone who’d actually revel with him, he looked towards where Fry had ducked for cover when the pirates had burst in and started shooting. On the other side of the cockpit, behind his own chair. Fry hadn’t stood back up though.

“Hey Fry, you can stop hiding now. We killed the pirates.”

Other than Leela’s, “You mean I killed the pirates,” there was no response. Was Fry taking a nap over there or something?

Bender went over, ready to chide him for falling asleep in the middle of a fire fight. When he got there though… he froze. Fry lay loosely curled on the ground, his face abnormally pale. Red liquid oozed out of a hole in his head. Blood was supposed to stay inside humans but according to Fry it wasn’t a big deal to lose a little and there wasn’t a whole lot so… it was fine? But the way he was laying so still…

“Fry? You okay buddy?”

No response.

Bender crouched down to poke his side. That always worked to wake him when he slept in too long. … Not this time though. Bender could try again, harder until it did work but… “Leela! I think there’s something wrong with Fry.”

“What is…” Leela cut off with a worried gasp that made Bender flinch internally. “Um… uh… does he have a pulse?”

“How should I know?” Bender barely knew what a pulse was let alone how or where to check for one.

“Okay um… don’t move him. I’ll get us back to Earth. You call ahead to Hermes and tell him to call 911.” Leela was moving before she’d even finished speaking.

Urged along by her haste Bender moved to do as told, without complaint for perhaps the first time in his life since joining Planet Express. Despite how close they were to Earth, his task, even with explaining why to Hermes, was finished before they were back home.

“What now?” he asked, turning to look at Leela.

“We hope for the best.”

That didn’t sit well with him but… what more could he do or say? He went back over to Fry, crouching down beside him again. Didn’t touch him again though because Leela had told him not to move Fry and had sounded quite adamant about it. Which normally he would’ve gone out of his way to do anything she was adamant he not do… this time though he was too nervous about Fry to do more than consider it.

It couldn’t be thatbad though, could it? It was a small wound and there wasn’t even much blood. … Then again though, robots had their important programming stuff stored in their heads. And considering how most robots were designed by humans then maybe that was basically true for humans as well. Hadn’t Bender heard something along those lines at some point, possibly multiple times that he just never paid much attention to? Which meant… what? That Fry was dead?

Inconceivable, utterly inconceivable. Fry couldn’t die, he was… he was Fry. He was young even by the standards of how the time period he grew up in. The doctors would fix him, they always did every time before. … What if they couldn’t this time though? Humans were fragile, Bender would know, he liked to make jokes about it all the time. It didn’t take much to kill them. Heck, according to stuff he’d heard, sometimes their own fleshy bodies rebelled against them and killed them. So… what if it was already too late?

Shaking a little, Bender reached out a hand and placed it against Fry’s chest. That’s where the heart was supposed to be, right? And thus where one would check for a pulse if there was one which would indicate that Fry was still alive. … He felt nothing. Did that actually mean anything for sure though? Even after all these years of Fry being his best friend and partner, Bender still didn’t know much about human biology. He’d never thought he’d find such information useful. Turns out he’d been wrong and thus there was nothing he could do here to even know if it was already too late. All he could do was wait, see, and hope that the doctors could fix Fry.

#my writing #futurama #frender #possible character death

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bruhstories · 4 years ago

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Vogel und Jäger

- PART TWO

Summary: After waking up, you realise the realities of the world you've been pulled into. Pairing: Zeke Jaeger x Fem!Reader (mafia AU) Warnings & Content: stabbing, language, angst Word Count: 1.7 k

A/N: make sure to read part one, otherwise this won't make any sense xD there's still a bit of build up going on, but starting with part three we'll be getting some action

You woke up from a restless sleep, crumbs of mascara stuck to your face. God, you needed a shower and a toilet immediately. The club was dead empty from the view upstairs, only a few people cleaning the tables and moping the floor. You stretched your arms and walked to the door, surprised it wasn't locked.

"Ah, miss Y/L/N, good morning! I hope you had a pleasant sleep." Someone startled you and you cleared your voice.

"Hi, who are you?"

"Oh, my apologies, I am Onyankopon." The man smiled and handed you a paper bag. You peekee inside and saw something which resembled clothes and toiletries. You recognised the stag pin in his chest, another of Zeke's employees. "I assume you'd like to clean yourself up. Please follow me."

"I'd love that, thank you." You smiled and followed Onyankopon downstairs. He told you bits and pieces of the Jaeger family overthrowing the police and gaining control of Paradis City, how the Marleyans wanted control over the city's resources and docks, all kinds of information you weren't entirely sure you were supposed to know. He walked you to the backstage, where all the strippersdancers got ready, encouraging you to use whatever you needed for you'd be the star of the club. That didn't help you in any way, instead it was anxiety-inducing, and your toes curled at his affirmation. You quickly took off last night's makeup, brushed your teeth, washed your face and body in a sink and got dressed. The clothes were simple, a long, light blue shirt — clearly a man's — and a pair of leggings. You wondered whom they belonged to, perhaps that grim-looking lady, Yelena. She terrified you with her look that could kill. Your hands hovered over the vanity in the dressing room but decided not to waste any more time and folded your old clothes, placing them in the paper bag.

"I'm ready." You walked out of the room and met with Onyankopon. He smiled and guided you out through the back door. "Hey, Onyankopon, who's Mikasa?"

"Oh, miss Mikasa is our best assassin. She's loyal only to Eren, though, which is an impediment for Zeke... I probably shouldn't have said that." He opened the door of a superb black car and you climbed inside with a sigh. You heard how the mafia was based on trust, and no one trusted you.

Most of the ride was silent, your eyes wandering out the window until Onyankopon parked in front of a huge and heavily guarded mansion. You knew the Jaegers were rich, but this was beyond obscene. You opened the door and Onyankopon scolded you for doing that, but you assured him you were perfectly capable of doing things by yourself. He walked you through the beautiful front garden of the mansion, through the large hallway and into what you assumed to be a living room. Or an office? Whatever that was, it was as big as the dining room of the orphanage.

"Ah, the little bird has arrived! You look splendid in my shirt." Zeke welcomed you and you felt your cheeks warm up at his words. The heat disappeared just as quickly when your eyes met with Yelena's. "Come, sit. I suppose you're hungry."

You nodded, feeling saliva building up in your mouth at the sight of croissants, bagels and all kinds of foods you've never had before. Historia was rich, but even her money wasn't enough to feed so many mouths. Doors swung open and you saw Eren barge in, followed by a few people close behind. He plopped on a couch opposite you, the same inexpensive look on his face.

"Let's get over with this. I've got shit to do."

"Impatient as always." Zeke rolled his eyes. "Y/N, do you swear to obey and serve the Jaeger family?" The question caught you off guard, but you nodded.

"I do."

"There, done." The older Jaeger brother shrugged and Eren clicked his tongue.

"You almost didn't let Mikasa walk out of this room alive because she swore loyalty to me and this is all you do to her? You're getting soft, brother."

The air in the room grew thick, almost impossible to breathe it in. All eyes were on you, and you didn't know if what you felt was shame or fear, or both.

"Very well." Zeke walked behind you and took your left hand, placing it on the coffee table in front of the couch. "Hold that there, will you, love?" He smiled and you slightly relaxed. Until — a sharp pain, followed by electricity and heat shot from your hand, through your arm. A blood-curling scream erupted from your throat, tears falling from the corners of your eyes as you squirmed and thrashed at burning sensation, your hanned pinned to the table with a knife. Blood seeped from the wound and you panicked, no one in that room rushing to your aid. No one blinked, no one felt sorry. "Swear your loyalty to me. To the Jaeger family."

"I swear! Oh, God, I s-swear! Please!" You begged, feeling your temperature falling from your cheeks. Zeke twisted the knife and you fell from the couch, knees hitting the wooden floor.

"Who do you belong to?" He asked, unphased by your whimpers, sobs and yelling, as he let go of the knife that still pierced your flesh.

"T-to you! Make it stop, p-please!"

"Good enough for me. Any objections?" Zeke eyed his little brother.

"Just stitch her hand. She's annoying." Eren clicked his tongue and poured himself a cup of coffee. When Onyankopon pulled the knife out, blood gushed out of the fresh wound and you felt the room spin and your head heavy, vision blurry — you fainted.

A hard slap across your cheek woke you up and you met with Yelena, eyes drifting to your bandaged hand. It was damn painful to move it, and you used your other hand to support your weight, shifting your position on the couch.

"Finally." Eren got up and and handed you a file. You flipped through it and found pictures and information of the men from the club.

"Y/N, this is Armin, our bookkeeper. He'll be paying you after every successful show. And this is Mikasa, she'll train you in self-defence. I suspect you won't need it, but it's better to be safe than sorry." Zeke pushed the glasses with his index finger.

"You stabbed me." You bluntly stated, eyes glued to the bandages.

"It'll heal."

"It'll heal? I'm already in debt, you didn't need to stab me!" You got up and instantly felt a gun to your head. Great.

"Sit." Yelena's voice was brash and commanding. Your brain told you to listen to her, but your instincts told you to provoke her, to taunt her. Teeth gritting, you took a deep breath and lowered yourself down, deciding to do both.

"You're not gonna shoot me without Mr. Jaeger's permission, so don't point your gun at me." A satisfied smirk creeped on your lips — you didn't technically provoke her, just stated the obvious.

"Can I shoot her?"

"No." Zeke enjoyed the show, and unbeknownst to you, he, too, felt somewhat proud of your little snarky remark. "You still have to prove your loyalty. Talk to the band, choose some songs for Friday, Saturday and Sunday. You're free to settle your training hours with Mikasa, and to go wherever you want, but you are not allowed to step foot anywhere outside the centre of Paradis. Last thing I need is some Marleyan kidnapping you and torturing you for information. Or the cops. Dismissed."

"Mr. Jaeger, if I may?" You waited for his nod of approval. "Since I won't be living at the orphanage anymore, where exactly am I going to stay?"

"Ah, yes, of course. Blouse, Springer, come here." Zeke waved his hand. More people, more names.

It slowly dawned to you that the Jaegers had a thorough structure with extremely loyal people, and you'd have to quickly find your place there and earn their trust, lest you died a painful death. A bubbly brown-eyed woman and a cheerful-looking man approached Zeke's desk, and finally you saw someone less serious. Onyankopon was nice and all, but he wasn't exactly a ray of sunshine. These two seemed... fun.

"These are Sasha Blouse and Connie Springer, leaders of the drug cartel. You'll stay with them until you're capable of living by yourself."

The duo smiled at you and you felt genuine warmth from them, making you wonder just how bad the mafia was. They seemed to like working for the Jaeger brothers, but you couldn't judge that just yet.

"Oh, we've already moved your stuff to their place, so there is no need for you to visit Historia. Now go, we've got work to do." Zeke placed a cigarette between his lips before turning his back at you.

You were right, Sasha and Connie were fun people. They talked a lot, and you warmed up to them with a few jokes and puns. Connie handed you a phone containing a few contacts, neither of which were Zeke or Eren— apparently you weren't allowed to speak to them, they would speak to you. Sasha explained how you had to forget your past, and dedicate yourself solely to the family — no relationships, no friends, no acquaintances. You were not permitted to fall in love, which was understandable, considering the circumstances, but hard, considering the inability to control feelings.

"Don't worry about it too much. Zeke and Eren care about their subordinates, as long as you listen." Connie wrapped an arm around your neck. Besides, you're one of the lucky ones. Boss never spares witnesses, so he clearly saw potential in you." Somehow, that didn't make you feel any better, you only felt more weight on your shoulders.

"Yeah, I heard you can sing!" Sasha beamed, clapping her hands. "I can't wait for your first show, I bet it'll be awesome."

"It has to be, otherwise you'll have to come to my funeral." You shook your head, exiting Jaeger Manor. A honk caught your attention and you saw Mikasa impatiently waiting for you in a car. "Any advice before I go?"

"Don't get attached to any of us." Connie sighed.

"But trust that the family will protect you if you're loyal." The woman encouraged you before hugging you. A hug, something you never thought you'd get from a mobster.

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softsebnbuckystan · 4 years ago

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Soul ties - Part 6 (Bucky Barnes au)

"Hold, hold on, hold onto me

'Cause I'm a little unsteady"

Word count : 2061

Sleep didn't seem to come to you that night, and you didn't know whether the reason was the pizza you'd had for dinner, your husband's obvious neglect or your supposed soulmate sleeping in the same building. After tossing and turning in your bed for over three hours, you grabbed a pillow and a plaid, put on your slippers and went into the main kitchen. A herbal tea under the stars should be a good way to help you sleep, right? You tried to stay as silent as you could despite the boiling water in the kettle – you always refused to microwave water – and picked some chamomile infusion Wanda had chosen. With your cup in one hand, you opened the picture window. One thing you liked about the compound was the few balconies it had : they weren't too big, but they were large enough for you to sit on a pillow and look at the stars, your back against the wall. You were once again trying to spot constellations, the August sky being perfect for this kind of exercise.

"Can't sleep?"

You almost spilled your tea on your plaid.

"Sorry I scared you."

You smiled weakly at the man who'd just joined you. "It's fine. Wanna sit here with a fellow insomniac?"

Bucky ran a hand through his hair before sitting on your left. His right arm brushed against your exposed skin and you tried to hide your shivers.

"What's keeping you up?" You ask. "I mean, you obviously don't have to tell me."

"Nothing much. Some nightmares."

"Are they ones about...about the war?" Your question startled him ; he shot you a confused look as you lowered yours. "Sorry. Steve told me a few times about his best friend Bucky and I... I made the connection."

"I thought Steve avoided talking about those things."

"What? The way he lost you?"

"Yeah."

"Sorry, that was tactless."

"Don't worry about that." He looked at the sky, leaning his head against the wall. "Wanna tell me what's keeping you up?"

"Well, it's quite ridiculous really," you eluded.

"Steve told me why you're spending time here. Is it him that keeps you up at night?"

You sipped on your tea for a few seconds. "I guess so. It's just that I keep thinking about what I'm doing wrong, you know? I must be doing something wrong."

You heard him take a breath, his shoulders raising with his chest. His arm against yours felt strange, in a good kind of way. You'd never felt so close to anyone in such a short amount of time, and you wondered what made him so special aside from the meaningful tattoo you shared.

"I don't think you're to blame. Can I be honest?"

"Sure."

"I'm sorry if I seem out of place, because we only met a week ago but..."

"You feel like I get you, right? Just like I feel that you get me."

He nodded calmly. "He doesn't seem to realise who he was lucky enough to marry."

"Lucky, huh?"

You looked at him with a smile and had it not been so dark, you could've sworn a red tint had reached his cheeks. "You're hella smart," he explained. "And from what I've seen, you're kind."

"And you think that after two days with me?"

He shrugged and allowed himself a quiet laugh. "You let Sam get the last piece of pizza earlier. I would have never done that."

"True. That is my most selfless act ever." Jumping on his joke felt natural and as it turned out, he had a communicative laugh.

"Why don't you laugh more often? I like it."

Bucky looked you in the eyes, paralysing you with his blue pupils again. It seemed as if he was searching for what to say.

"There aren't a lot of things that make me laugh. You do, though." This one didn't sound like a joke, and you placed your hand on his forearm, instantly sending a funny feeling down to your stomach.

"Consider me flattered," you said. "Can I ask you a question? Don't feel like you're forced to answer, though."

"Sure."

"I'm just curious, working in biochem and stuff... I'm basically the school nurse for theses guys," you explained. "So how does it feel, the metal arm? Do you...feel things the way you do with your right arm?"

He stopped for a moment. "I did not expect that question. That's a good surprise." He raised his left hand in front of him. "It's weird, actually. This one is really advanced. Shuri did an amazing job with it, but... sometimes I'll touch something and think I feel something. I know it's my brain playing tricks on me, but it's not that sentient. I feel pressure, tension...but not actual human sensations." He let his hand fall down on his knees.

"Do you miss it?"

"I got used to it. But yeah."

"Okay, close your eyes."

"What?"

"Do you trust me?"

"Y/n, we met last week."

"I know! But like, it's not a 'do you trust me with your life' situation. Think of it as 'do you trust me with basic skills' kind of thing." You chuckled. "Now close your eyes."

Bucky gave in and you gently grabbed his metal hand. "What do you feel now?" you asked, stroking the back of his hand.

"I know there's something on my hand. And I know it's harmless. But...nothing more, I'm sorry."

"Don't be. It's part of you."

"And you don't mind that?"

"Why would I?" you shrugged. "It's you."

"Even if I were to do this?" He slowly raised his hand, approaching your face. You let him place his hand on your cheek. It didn't feel like flesh and bone, but it still felt right.

"Yes, even then." You held up his gaze, searching those blue eyes for any sign. Signs of what exactly, you didn't know yet. All you wanted was to stare into them forever, never leave this state of mind.

When Bucky's hand fell down your shoulder and kept running down your arm, a thousand shivers ran down your spine. You couldn't – shouldn't – feel this way. You were married now, and doing this... To prevent you from doing anything stupid, you looked away and leaned back against the wall. Getting away from him still was out of your league, though ; you settled for resting your head on his shoulder and spread your plaid over both your bodies. It might've been because nights were fresh, even in August, but it was mostly to make sure you were as close to him as you could be. Before falling asleep, the last thing you felt was Bucky's head letting itself fall on top of yours.

---

"Hey, you need to wake up."

The morning sun made you blink and you felt something on your thigh. Lowering your gaze, you noticed Bucky's hand. You tried not to freak out and looked up at whoever had spoken : Steve. Bucky shifted next to you, woken up by Steve's words as well.

"What's going on?" you asked. Steve might have been the best at hiding concern, he couldn't always hide it from you.

He sighed. "Darren's here."

"Shit." You got up more abruptly than you should've, causing you to lean on Steve's shoulder for a second. "Where is he?"

"Right here."

You turned around, seeing Darren standing in the doorframe. Well, that was unfortunate. You thought you should've been feeling some sort of guilt after being found in another man's arms – technically ; all you felt was anger. You were angry that he'd showed up after standing you up last night, you were angry about the neglect and his overall lack of care.

"What are you doing here?" you asked sharply.

"Bringing you home. Why didn't you come back?" His arms were crossed over his chest and he shot Bucky a furious look. "And why were you sleeping outside with this guy?"

Rubbing your forehead, you gestured towards Steve and Bucky. "Could you guys leave us a minute, please?"

Even though Steve nodded and walked back inside, Bucky seemed unsure about leaving you alone with your husband. You gave him a brief smile and he took the hint. As you closed the door behind him to have some privacy – the door was made of glass, but oh well –, Darren started pacing.

"Did you cheat on me last night?"

"What the hell?" You couldn't believe your ears. "You're kidding, right? You stood. Me. Up. You didn't even bother telling me in advance that you'd go at Brad's, and you didn't even come home. Didn't you think I was tired of being alone every night?"

"You're never alone."

"Damn it, Darren, you came home past dinner every day since we got married! We should be on our honeymoon right now, and yet you don't even bother kissing me goodnight."

"That's all this is about? I work a little too much and you go away to your so-called family?" He'd stopped pacing and raised an eyebrow, proud of his innuendo. His insinuating Steve and the gang weren't your family made your blood boil.

"So-called? So-called, Darren? I love these people. They are my family and they've been more present for me today than you have in a week. What did you expect? That I would happily ask to be invited at Brad's, when I clearly am not welcome there?"

"You are welcome, what the hell are you talking about?"

"They don't like me, and you know that very well." You looked at the ground. You might've been angry, but never being able to fit in within Darren's social circle had always hurt you.

"Maybe you're not trying hard enough."

No words came out of your mouth. How could you say anything to that? This was the ultimate insult. You had given so much to this relationship that you'd never even thought that 'not trying hard enough' could've been the reason they disliked you. First dinner with them, Brad's wife had made fun of what was left of your Sokovian accent, asking Darren if he wanted you to help you get a green card. Of course you'd called her out on her racism. She got upset, but was it your fault? No. During a night out, Brad had been too handsy with you and when telling Darren about it, he'd told you that you were reading too into it, that he was just being friendly. They weren't good people, and you'd always wondered why Darren bothered hanging out with them.

"That's it, go away." You let out an exasperated sigh, opening the door. "You're going to leave the compound to go home and calm down. Maybe I'll be back in a few days."

"I'm not going anywhere without you." That could've sounded romantic. In his mouth, it sounded more like a threat.

"Hell yeah, you are. Now go. My birthday is in three days, and I don't want you to be like this then."

"Right, your birthday. Don't count on me to celebrate it if you don't bother coming home."

You closed your eyes for a moment before gesturing him to leave. He ultimately walked through the glass door and you saw him make eye-contact with Wanda on his way out. You knew she was trying hard not to throw him against a wall or something. You ran your hand through your hair, taking in what had just occurred. You knew Darren would feel better the next day and that it would be like nothing ever happened. You just weren't sure anymore whether it was a good thing or not.

"Don't worry, you can stay here longer," you heard Steve say.

"You're better off with us anyway," Wanda told you.

"You know he's-"

"Please, don't defend him," your sister pleaded. "He's not treating you right and you know it. He hasn't for years. Why are you-"

"Wanda, please. Not here."

You looked at Bucky out of the corner of your eye ; you didn't want to have that conversation in front of him, for some reason. Maybe deep down, you knew he'd side with Wanda. Having your sister call you out was hard enough ; you didn't need your soulmate to start doing it as well.

--- I just finished part 9 so I'm posting part 6 because I can't wait to have your opinion on this one!! Don't forget you can message me anytime to be added to the tag list :)

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