#the hair isn’t my biggest complaint but it somehow is where my emotions came to a point

[aragornsrockcollection]

Can we talk about how it isn’t JUST that basically all the male elves have short hair-

-Which is an abomination in it’s own right-

- but also it’s the specific short styles they gave them look like they were done with electric clippers. Like Finrod has a goddamn fade, I cannot.

I look at them and cannot imagine those hairstyles being created in universe, with non-electric tools.

Like I know elves’ bodies and psyches are more in tune with each other, but I don’t think that applies to their hair growing in exactly the style they want and staying there.

Do you know why elves have long hair? Because ten years is like a blink for an elf, imagine the upkeep on short hair over the course of MILLENNIA.

WITH SCISSORS ONLY

Imagine getting a trim every month for HUNDREDS of years to keep that shit looking pristine and consistent. In a war zone if you’re Finrod.

Somehow… they made the elves hair more extra… while making it ugly.

[sunlightandsuffering]

Prompt : they are both famous and secretly dating.

tbh I don't know what this is or if it makes any sense at all, so sorry anon for butchering ur prompt, but I'm a basic bitch and I like my drake, so like this is gonna be pain bcuz my favourite song on the new album is just pain and I can't stop thinking about a fucked up celebs relationship to it, just ANGST AND PAIN!! 😭😭 but those lyrics hit, can't believe I wrote a song fic ugh circa Tumblr 2015 jfc I'mma write a happier ending to this in another prompt 😂 bc someone else asked for the same thing.

Fucking Fans

I'm still working on me

Eren stands at the Met Gala, holding Mikasa by the waist, giving a cramped smile for photos and keeping her close. People call their names and cameras flash and his beloved blinks, hiding her face into his shoulder as the lights overwhelm her.

He looks down at her lovingly as some jackass reporter yells about a cheating rumour and her pretty face pinches up. Eren is quick to comfort her with his touch, both hands gripping her waist reassuringly as he decides it's time for them to go inside.

"Come on Miki," he kisses her forehead and she nods, accepting. Neither of them wants to think about those rumours, the damage and the pain they bring up is too much and it's all his fault, he knows, but he can't undo it.

The guilt eats at him and she holds his hand tighter, the despair takes him and she cuddles him at night.

They're together now but sometimes Eren wonders just how it happened, how he came back from falling so far. How she took him back when he fucked up so massively.

And I'm coming back better for you

The day he shows up on her door step again is the day of the biggest awards show of the season, the one he knows she's going to kill and probably sweep several categories. Just because she's that amazing. He finds her where he expects, in her apartment, the address Armin gave him, doing her own hair and makeup, humble Mikasa just like always, ironing out her own dress. He shows up in a suit with as many white roses as he can fit into a bouquet and ready to leave if she still hates him, which she has every right to.

But he's been through months of therapy, gave Armin control of his bank account, and check himself into rehab thrice, every time he was even inching closer to relapse.

He's not fixed, but he's better, marginally, and he wants her to know it, know he still loves her at the very least.

She opens the door, beautiful even without makeup, and wearing a white slip and her pretty red mouth parts in shock.

All he can do is hold out his roses as tears leave his eyes at seeing her for the first time in months.

Most times it was my selfishness and your helplessness that I took advantage of

It was so easy with Mikasa, she was so devoted to him. So loving and sweet, always there for him.

She'd wait up, let him do what he wanted, never wanting to stifle or control him. Too afraid their tenuous relationship would crack and they'd break up.

A part of him blames her for it, for being so willing to let him do what he wanted. She'd been passive, unsure how to insert herself, had minimal complaints, letting him ruin his life party by party, late night after late night, drugs and alcohol all of it.

But he knows he can never hold her accountable for his own actions, and the day she's finally done with his bullshit is both the best and worst day of his life. She finally says no, and it begins his path to fixing himself. Because hitting rock bottom is losing the most important thing in his life, and that's Mikasa.

You sit in the house and I be out and I know you're worried, up

The problem with her passivity is he knows it's not passivity at all, she just doesn't know what to do, how to fix him. Eren has always had a temper, and she's known him for a long time, knows he'll lash out and behave worse if provoked. So she'd reacted as best she could, leaving rehab pamphlets out, asking him to stay in and watch movies, bake with her, anything other than going out to party.

But he'd stumble home every night and see her asleep on the couch, waiting. Always there to pick him up instead of a cab, not wanting the paparazzi to get a hold of him, she was always there.

And you try and block it out

They lived in a bubble, they pretended it didn't happen. They didn't acknowledge when he was too hungover to shoot the next morning. She'd brew him coffee, get him through the day, flush his drug stash when they checked, both his saving grace and biggest enabler.

Even when he's kissing her for more than just an on-screen kiss, lips drinking her in like a man starved, and the next morning she finds new girls in his bed, she keeps quiet.

They're a mess, but every time she dutifully kicks the girls out and drags him to the shower.

I'm so sorry for letting you down

When he'd first become famous, he hadn't known what to do with himself. He'd been scouted for how many movies, tv-shows, underwear commercials, brand deals. It was a whirlwind as Hollywood found their new boy wonder, handsome, smart and a nice boy.

His best friend, and female love interest in their debut movie, Mikasa, who had followed him to Hollywood on nothing more than a whim, was equally bombarded with fame and fortune. They'd always been close, always best friends, but never quite more, no matter how much they both obviously wanted it. It never progressed beyond a few acted kisses.

Still, they got an apartment together, and Eren had thought it was the start of something great, he was living the dream. Rich and famous with his best friend, the girl he'd secretly loved since he was young.

He'd been content just to stay up late and watch movies with her before work, to visit her on set and bring her donuts. They were Hollywood's shining stars, two kids sickeningly sweet in love even though they weren't officially dating, they were as good as.

At the advice of his agent, he'd started doing more, started picking up a few other gigs on the side, modelling, but he kept it small, he didn't want to overwhelm himself, and he still wanted time for Mikasa.

It had gone well, they'd taken fame okay, and Eren had been proud, neither of them had a sex-scandal or a pregnancy scare yet. They'd even been inching towards finally being something more than just friends, a few heated looks, some on-stage kisses to finally get the ball rolling.

Then Mikasa had been cast in an upcoming romance movie and her love interest hadn't been Eren, it had been Jean.

That had been the start of his spiral.

He'd never meant for it to get so far out of control, how many movies he started doing, how many promotions. Meanwhile Mikasa, smart, brilliant Mikasa stuck with smaller projects and only ever one at a time, preferring to keep close to their apartment. He was all she had, and she was all he wanted.

Nights when I just needed to hold somebody

He misses her, lays in bed awake at night thinking about her, how long it’s been, when was the last time he saw the curve of her face in person and not in a washed-out picture on a magazine. Girls in and out of his apartment, trying to fill the empty void inside him, and nothing works, nothing ever works. Because he’d fucked it up, said he didn’t need her, told her he could do it on his own, fame wouldn’t take him. Called each other names, every one in the book, screaming matches over stupid shit, if he should take that job, what she was doing with Jean, how she was eating, if she was eating enough.

The toxicity was palpable in their apartment until finally Mikasa just left and he broke.

Feeling overwhelmed, should've told somebody

Fame takes him like a drug addiction, actually it comes with a drug addiction, heroine, cocaine, molly, all of it. In trying to ditch his Hollywood’s sweetheart, good boy image he diverts his life so radically he doesn’t know if he can ever get back to where he was. He loses weight, barely gets by, he doesn’t even understand how he’s still getting booked, but people want him even more now that he’s Hollywood’s bad boy. Meanwhile Mikasa is disgraced now that he’s ‘thrown her away’ even though it was the other way around. Last he heard she lived in a little apartment on the upper east side, leaves only to work, and to fly up to see their families. He hasn’t seen his parents in months, doesn’t want to. Doesn’t want to see the look in their eyes when they realize how skinny he’s gotten, how his body lacks muscle, skin barely clinging to bone, gaunt and lifeless.

He needs help, but he’s spiraling, he’s committed and no matter how many times Armin tries to get him into rehab, he never goes. What’s the point Mikasa is gone, he’s not getting her back, all he has now is the money, the drugs, and the women.

Picturin' it's me sending chills through your body

He hears she’s dating Jean now and somehow, he gets worse.

Every fear he’d ever had comes to life and he gets angry, his temper coming back full force. The past few months he’d barely been getting by, not really living, but his rage awakens him. She’d told him no, that they weren’t dating, never so much as kissed outside of work. What a fucking lie.

How many girls he takes home that month he doesn’t know, how many paparazzi photos of women leaving his apartment, how he dreams it’s Mikasa under him, not some rando.

He sees her on the cover of some magazine, walking innocently with Jean and it sends him into even more of a rage, but under it all he wishes it was him, doesn’t matter that they were never official, that it only happened a few times, he wants her back. But Eren’s never been good at navigating his emotions, so he clings to his rage like a lifeline.

I just probably should've chilled 'til I saw you

When they ask about her in interviews, he doesn’t answer. Not until that once, when he lets it slip and he watches Armin wilt in real time from behind the camera as he spits the words, “I think it’s obvious, she’s with Jean now isn’t she, right after she was with me, figure it out yourself.”

The insinuation is lethal, cruel, mean and he knows it’s not true, but he says it anyway. He knows she didn't do it, but still the coincidence hurts too much, the very thought that there might have been something romantic going on with them before makes him want to throw up.

The interviewer looks shocked before he brightens up at the tidbit of information, like a vulture picking apart the last pieces of his heart, massacring it further, but Eren doesn’t mind the pain anymore. It fuels his rage and that’s all he has these days.

How am I supposed to get to know somebody?

When the rage wears off months later and Mikasa has done nothing, no comment on his interviews, no appearances, no angry texts, just silence, he becomes numb. Then the sadness sets in, because losing her romantically isn’t even the worst part, he doesn’t even have his best friend anymore, he’s lost her too.

She’s become a recluse, a hermit, he hasn’t even seen her with Jean on the magazine covers lately. Distantly he knows it’s because their movie is finished filming, and she was probably never dating him in the first place.

He goes to awards shows in hopes of at least catching a glimpse but she’s gone into hiding, there’s rumours she’s back in their hometown, but he’d never visit, not with the disgrace he’s become. He tries to date seriously, tries to talk to other actresses, but it’s all so vacant, disingenuous. All they want him for is his image, there’s nothing real about these women anymore, everything is fake, plastic right down to their boobs. Nothing like Mikasa, who was pure to her core, even in the face of her fame.

If we broke it off then you know it wasn't painless

He'd cried for weeks after she'd ended it, despite it being entirely his fault.

Armin had cancelled all his engagements and Eren hadn't left the apartment, curling himself up on her empty mattress, her room a barren wasteland.

He'd only eaten when Armin forced him too, and only come out of his hibernation after his mother had called to yell, Armin holding the phone right in his ear, the first time he'd spoken to her in forever.

If she got a watch then you know it's not a stainless

He’s got money, but it means nothing. Mikasa has money too, it doesn’t even matter. What has it all been for? He doesn’t even know anymore. All he’s gotten from his acting career is trust issues, more money than he knows what do with and the loss of his best friend and the only girl he’s ever loved.

It’s all a blur now, he acts, he models, he does PR. Armin makes him a schedule and he follows it. They meet with his nutritionist and his personal trainer, and he starts working out again, eating real food, not just smoking, and drinking coffee to supress his appetite.

Armin is the only reason he’s still a functioning human being as Eren hits rock bottom. The only one left to try and push him out.

I was out here fucking fans, I was shameless

He knows he fucked up, it’s why he starts therapy.

The shit he’d done, high off his own fame and arrogance, it’s messed up and he he knows it now. All the girls, all the money and the drugs, ignoring Mikasa’s concerns, dragging her down with him.

He doesn’t blame her now, he knows none of it was fair, she was justified in leaving. They were toxic, their half on, half off relationship, how he'd commit to the drugs but never her.

He can still remember the first time he kissed her, really kissed her, Eren and Mikasa not two characters on screen. It was after their first awards show for their movie, he’d been so excited, so delightfully sober, he couldn’t help himself, she’d been so pretty in her white dress, he’d leaned down before he could stop himself. The first night they’d had sex, her moans, her soft cries of pleasure, nothing had ever measured up since.

It had been bliss, for about a month or so and then they’d really been discovered, and it had all been shot to hell.

All the fans, all the women throwing themselves at him, his eyes couldn’t help but wander despite Mikasa always being the most radiant in the room. He had her love, he’d had everything, but that insidious voice in the back of his head had wondered. Thought the grass was greener on the other side, wanting to explore fame at the same time they’d finally started their relationship.

You was at the crib reading stories that they sent you

They’d kept it casual at Eren’s insistence and Mikasa’s heartbreak, his rock had been willing to allow it for him, for the chance to finally explore their relationship. But he could see how much it hurt her, the tabloids were the worst part, every day a new cover, another apartment he’d leave, another hookup in the parking lot. And he could barely justify it to himself, why he did it, why he continued to do it? He had everything he could ever want in Mikasa, the girl he’d loved since forever, finally in the palm of his hand, willing to give herself wholly to him.

And yet fame had called him more, and the people he was hanging out with only encouraged it, the famous lifestyle, drugs, sex and rock and roll.

Everyone was doing it, so why shouldn’t he?

Most of that was bullshit but some of it I did do

The rumours spiralled out of control after a while, there was nothing he could do, it was over, they had too much on him.

He'd been telling himself lies that maybe she was with Jean on the side, that she had the same opportunities as him, she could go out and sleep around too.

As if Mikasa would ever even consider it.

He’d finally given into being exclusive, seeing the toll it was taking on Mikasa, after Armin smacked him upside the head and told him he was going to lose her if he didn’t get his shit together. Eren had finally realized how irreversibly he was fucking up his relationship, but by then, it had been too late.

When they finally started truly dating, monogamy and all, it had been far, far too late. The backlog of photos the paparazzi had was ridiculous, any opportunity they got to demonize him they took.

He and Mikasa been casual at the time of all the photos, sure, but anyone would buckle under the weight of constant articles about their significant other cheating. Eren became the villain in his own story, and Hollywood loved it, ‘Bad Boy Eren Yeager Ditches Mikasa Ackerman’. He still remembers the headline, it was the straw that broke the camel’s back, she’d come home, dropped the offending magazine on the coffee table and hidden in her room for the rest of the night. He’d slept outside her door, and the next morning he’d been woken by her stepping over him to leave, bags packed.

It was sad, they’d never even officially dated to the public, they hadn’t gotten to that point. She’d wanted to reveal it at some awards show by taking him as her date, thanking him in her speech, her boyfriend, Eren Yeager. Overnight the paparazzi had singlehandedly broken them up for shit he hadn’t even done.

He had no one but himself to blame.

Hard for me to justify the women I was into

Looking back, he can’t say why he did it or what the purpose of all the models that looked eerily like her were for. Maybe he was trying to fill the empty space in his heart, maybe he felt neglected by her friendship with Jean and how obvious the man’s feeling for her were, but for one reason or another, he’d slept his way through about half of the Victoria’s Secret fashion show, and award shows were awkward these days. Meeting the eyes of all the talented women he’d hooked up with in such a professional setting was uncomfortable at best.

How many more did he not even remember, to high off drugs and alcohol and his own ego?

Especially when the whole entire world wished they had you

He’d seen it in how Jean looked at her the first time they’d walked the red carpet as promotion for their movie. The tall man was a b-list actor and he’d been invited to the pre-screening, and he’d watched Mikasa the entire night. His gaze wasn’t moved by Eren’s arm wrapped protectively around her waist or his chin resting on her head, nor the possessive hand on her thigh.

They hadn’t even been fooling around back then, but he couldn’t help himself, he didn’t want Jean’s eyes on her. She was also Mikasa Ackerman, and the whole world thought she was just as beautiful and amazing and perfect as he did.

But she was his. His best friend, love of his life, his everything

If only he’d treated her like it.

Probably made you want to hit the streets on everything

She doesn't take him to the awards show the night he comes begging, but she lets him inside her apartment. Lets him help her with her hair, something he's sorely missed. Something he's familiar with, been braiding her hair since they were kids.

He helps her put it up into a beautiful twist.

And when Jean knocks at her door to take her to the awards show he lets her go, kisses her cheek and tells her how much he loves her, how she's going to win it all and he'll be waiting her when she gets back.

And then she leaves, walks away with another man and Eren thinks he deserves it, it's his penance, how many times has she felt this same way, how many women has he been through?

Probably made you want to pour bleach on everything

He discovers not a single remnant of himself in her apartment, no pictures, no clothes she's borrowed. Even his old sweatshirt, her favourite one is gone. Hell, even their award for best-onscreen-kiss is gone.

He finds it all in a crumpled box under her bed and it's his own fault for snooping, their photo crumpled up and misshapen, riddled with water damage. Probably from her tears if he had to guess.

Probably made you want to kill me on everything

She comes home that night and Eren is surprised, he'd expected her to go to Jean's. Hadn't really believed she was going to come back. Had resigned himself to sleeping on the couch and waiting till tomorrow when she'd come home dishevelled and covered in hickeys and bruises, the kind good sex gives you. The kind he'd never really allowed himself to give her.

That's when she'd really broken and he'd been so fucking happy when she'd thrown her purse at him. No more of her her silent rage, her forced smiles. She'd kicked and screamed, cried in his arms only to hit him brutally with a pillow, chasing him to the end of the couch. Hands restraining his wrists, as she curses him out, tears running down her beautiful cheeks sparkling in the moonlight, she's a vengeful goddess and he deserves every second of her wrath.

She collapses on top of him in a heap of sobs and all he can do is hold her, hating himself just as much as he's sure she does.

Yeah, trust, I know that

He wakes the next morning with her weight in his arms, and he holds her like he never wants to let go.

He's lucky she's even here with him right now, that she didn't kick him out on the spot. That she even cares enough to still fight with him. He kisses her forehead softly, he knows.

Yeah I kinda hate this but whatever have angst 🤷🏻‍♀️

[sinner-as-saint]

You Were Made To Be Mine - 2.

Pirate!Bucky x Mermaid!Reader

Part 2 of this series

Run-through: Bucky is one of the greatest pirates ever known. Living peacefully in his vast and flourishing archipelago; filthy rich and respected by all those around him. He is the leader of his people and his massive fleet, and is viewed as no less than a king by his crew and the people on his lands. He, however, has a secret that he keeps from everyone. The infamous and brawny pirate has lost his heart to one of the most beautiful creations he’s ever seen – you. Ever since the moment he saw you, he knew that you were meant to be his. But he belonged to the earth, you to the ocean. Could love and resilience somehow find a way to unite two worlds?

Themes: mermaid!reader, mythological elements, pirate!bucky, fluff, angst

Bucky had never experienced heartache before.

But right now, as he was sat alone on the rock where he usually met up with you at nightfall, he concluded that no pain was more terrible than the heartache he felt when you didn’t show up at your regular meeting spot one night.

His throat hurt given he had called out your name so much and so loudly for the past hour or so. Usually, whenever he called, you’d show up within seconds. But today, it had been over an hour and there was no sign of you. Fear, worry, guilt and pain – it all hit him right in the face like a harsh wave.

“Where are you, my little pearl?” he murmured to himself in his hoarse voice as he sat on the rock alone, sulking and missing you so terribly he felt physically sick. Now he understood why the saddest lovers wrote the most devastatingly beautiful poems because right now Bucky felt overwhelmed by emotions he didn’t know one could feel and if he had a pen and paper in hand, he would write the most melancholic of poems while he pines for you as well.

My little pearl… Bucky chuckled sadly at the nickname he gave you a while ago. It started when one day you brought him the prettiest shell you had ever found, and inside it was a lovely, shiny little pearl.

-

“Isn’t it the prettiest thing you’ve ever seen?” you had asked, excitedly showing him what you had found that day.

Bucky nodded. “It is pretty, but not more that you.” And since, he loved how you blushed and hid your face each time he called you ‘his little pearl’ after that. And given the ocean was your home, the nickname was very fitting.

-

The fear settled in not long after. What if you were lost somewhere and you couldn’t find your way back? What if you were injured? What if you were lost and injured and couldn’t call out for help? What if… what if you had found a merman and decided to stay because Bucky wasn’t worth it? He knew he was being ridiculous but he couldn’t help but think so.

No!

Bucky’s possessive nature took over and he was going crazy with each passing moment spent in your absence. His anger soon morphed into complete and utter sadness. And he was miserable. He had seen you just a day ago, but he missed you terribly already. Your hair, your soft lips, the vibrant colors of your tail, your warm but damp hugs; all of you.

He stayed put there for the entire night, alert and waiting. But you didn’t show up. Bucky waited until dawn, and he rowed back to his island; sad and heartbroken. Did you leave him? Were you lost? Did you find someone else? Were you injured or trapped somewhere because of your obsession with that mythical potion?

If it weren’t for Steve running into him as he made his way home, Bucky would’ve shed a tear or two. That’s how much he was hurting.

“You look like a mess.” Steve pointed out. “Where have you been?” he asked, clearly seeing that something was wrong with Bucky.

Been waiting for the love of my life to show up at our usual meeting spot, but she didn’t come. I don’t know if she’s mad, or in trouble or hurt, or all of that. “Just out.” Bucky replied and made his way to his home, in desperate need for some hours of sleep.

-

Nightfall came again and Bucky rowed back to the isles at around midnight. He didn’t find you on the rock like he always did, again. He didn’t see the flicker of excitement of your fins as he got closer. He didn’t see you. And his heart felt like it was being torn apart.

He called out your name again. And again. And again like a madman. But you didn’t show up. Bucky waited on top of the rock again, looking up at the starry night sky and drowning in his sadness. Then out of nowhere, he heard the soft splash of water he knew all too well.

“Sweetheart, is that you?” he sat up straight and looked around; alert again. He heard the splash again. And the spark of hope inside him which was fading out, came to life again. With the help of the burning torch by his side, he could see quite well.

And then he saw it. The shiny tail, the silky fins and the beautiful face he was madly, dangerously and hopelessly in love with.

“Y/N!” he called out your name and didn’t think twice before jumping in the water and met you in the middle as you made your way to him. You had the biggest smile on your face as he swam towards you. He threw his arms around you and held on to you to keep himself afloat but also to hold you as close to him as possible.

You giggled at how he behaved almost like a little child, clinging to you for dear life. You wouldn’t lie, supporting the muscular man and yourself above water was a little hard. But you welcomed his almost suffocating embrace without any complaints because you had missed him terribly and you were aware you hadn’t come to meet him yesterday so you had to make up for it.

“I missed you!” you wrapped your arms around his broad shoulders and your lower body worked extra hard to keep the two of you above the surface.

Bucky almost shed tears, he couldn’t believe you were here in flesh and blood, not a fragment of his imagination, but the real you. “Never disappear like that ever again, you hear me?” he sounded relieved and angry and heartbroken all at once as he chided you but also held you like you were the most precious thing in the world.

“I won’t, I promise. I’m sorry.” You whispered in his ear, pushing your face into the crook of his neck and relished his warmth. The water was cool, so his body heat felt heavenly. Bucky pulled away and swam on his own for a bit, realizing that he had shifted all his weight onto you earlier.

“Where the hell were you?” he sounded hurt. “I was waiting, I waited the whole night.” He recalled how upset he was last night and you felt guilty for not showing up.

“I’m sorry.”

“Sorry doesn’t explain why you didn’t show up! Where were you?” he wasn’t going to let you go without getting the truth out.

You hung your head down in shame and guilt. And Bucky knew what that look meant. “Come on up.” He swam over to the rocks and climbed up, thinking you were right behind him. But when he turned to look at you, he found you still in the water. He frowned. “Sweetheart, come on up.” He held his hand out for you. You swam a little closer but stayed in the water.

“I’m… I’m good here actually.” You tried your hardest to convince him but he didn’t buy any of it. He raised an eyebrow at your words.

“You don’t want to come up on our rock?” he sounded confused. And you couldn’t help but faintly smile at how it was ‘our rock’.

You shook your head gently. “No, I’m fine here.” You lied.

Bucky sighed in frustration. “Okay, just…” he exhaled loudly. “Tell me what’s going on, okay? Because first you disappear out of nowhere, then you come back a day later and act like this. What is going on?” he had the right to be a little mad. Hell, if he just disappeared out of nowhere like that you would be pretty upset as well.

You kept your head hung and decided to just be honest and tell him truth. So you began; you told Bucky about how you went to search for the potion. And how you accidentally found yourself in unknown, deep, dark and dangerous waters; far from home. And how you got lost for a long while, and almost became the meal to larger predators. And how you escaped, but were injured because one of them chased you and almost sank its teeth completely into your tail. You told him how you returned home; worn out, injured and bleeding and unable to swim properly. One of your siblings tended to your wound as soon as you got home but the pain was so bad that you passed out for hours and only woke up a few minutes ago.

Bucky listened attentively. Each new piece of information about the terrible situation hit him like a violent storm; leaving him breathless and mind blown in the worst way. So his gut feeling had been right all along; you were indeed lost and hurt so far away from him. And had things turned out just a little differently, he would perhaps never see you again.

Bucky remained quiet even when you were done talking, sheepishly filling him in on all that you did and all that happened to you. You knew a long lecture about your safety was coming sooner or later. But honestly, this time you deserved it. Then again, you were doing this for both of you. You were desperate to be part of his world and share this life with him, and you couldn’t do so until you were able to walk the ground he walks on.

After a few long minutes of silence, after processing all of it, he spoke up, “Let me see it.” He asked, referring to the wound you had gotten.

You got to the sandy shore and waited for Bucky to approach you with the burning touch in his hand. He squatted down beside you and inspected your tail thanks to the light provided by the torch. He found the wound at around the middle of your tail. A long, irritated and bloody gash. Part of which was wrapped in algae; he remembered you telling him that some algae were used as medicines by merpeople.

His demeanor changed as soon as he saw the wound. He felt guilty, because he was the initial reason why you were chasing after this potion. In some ways, although indirectly, he was the reason why you were hurt and he almost lost you forever had it not been for luck or your extreme survival skills and courage.

“What was it?” he asked, his voice was calm but it didn’t hide his anger nor his guilt completely.

“I didn’t see. It was too dark down there. But it was big and scary and loud.”

You could feel something bad was coming. A gut feeling, or something told you that something was going to happen soon which would hurt you a hundred times more than the wound on your body. Bucky planted the torch on the sand, a few feet far from where you sat, and he plopped down next to you. And something told you he was gathering the courage to say something which was going to break you.

Truth is, he was hurting. Hurting so bad that he wanted to scream and shout and beg someone, anyone, to make it stop. Like a thousand cuts, open and raw and bleeding – the pain was indescribable. He almost lost you, and he was going crazy just thinking about it. His head was almost dizzy and his heart was racing. He wasn’t thinking straight. All he knew was that he was the reason why you could’ve gotten killed and worse part is, if you did – he would never know.

“I can’t risk losing you.” he said, looking down at the sand beneath him.

You watched him intently. It always amazed you how perfect his side profile was. Perfect lips, perfect nose. Only today, his pretty eyes were sad. “You’re not going to. I’m fine. I came back, didn’t I?”

“Yeah but you also almost got eaten by some mysterious sea monster. And if you did, that would be on me.”

Oh no… you knew where this was going. “But I didn’t. I-,”

He cut you off quickly. “I love you, alright? I love you and I never knew it was humanly possible to love someone this much. But Y/N, I can’t sit here and watch you try to get yourself killed over something which probably doesn’t exist!” he paused, chest heaving as he tried to contain his emotions. “What if you go out there tomorrow and this time you didn’t come back? What then?”

You hung your head down as the image of a heartbroken Bucky filled your head. “What happened yesterday isn’t going to happen again. I know what to look out for now.”

“Do you?” he asked calmly, trying to make you realize that this was wrong. “You need to get this myth and give up this crazy obsession, you hear me? Why can’t we be normal and happy without it? Why can’t we just-,”

You cut him off rather coldly. “Because look at us!” you raised your voice a little. “There’s nothing normal about us! We can’t be anything more than this without it, it’s our only hope, why don’t you get it? We both want the same thing, Buck. I need to be with you, I want to. And this will-,”

He shook his head and then turned to you, “Can’t you see what’s happening? You almost got killed because of it!” he was getting hyper too.

You waited a little while before answering, trying to read him. “Not being with you is killing me as well.”

That broke him.

His anger vanished into thin air. “Come here, my little pearl.” His voice softened as he carefully pulled you onto his lap. Your tail rested sideways on his lap and you placed your head on his shoulder while his wrapped his arm protectively around you. “You got hurt because of me.” He stated softly.

You sighed and persisted. “No.”

He pressed his lips to the side of your head. “Yes, and that can’t keep happening. I won’t allow you put yourself in danger on my account.”

No… “Please don’t leave me.” You pushed your face into the crook of his neck to hide your tears. “Please.”

He sighed. “Can you promise me you will stop looking for that thing?”

“No.” You held on to the hope with all your heart that you will find it one day. You knew you were really close to finding it too, you couldn’t possibly give up now. Besides, once you did you and Bucky could be together forever without the barrier of physical differences and that was the only thing which mattered.

Bucky sighed in frustration. “This makes me feel so selfish. And guilty. And just overall terrible. You’re putting yourself in danger, you’re getting chased by predators, and you’re getting hurt and all for what? Me?” he paused and pulled away to look at you. “I love you that way you are, you don’t have to change for me. Just stop looking for this thing.” He sounded much calmer than before.

This was another fear of yours. How long would he be indifferent to the fact that you both were of different kinds? “A few years from now, you’re gonna want a wife. You’ll want kids, and a family. And I wouldn’t be able to give you any of that.”

“I don’t want any of that if it’s not with you.”

You sighed. He did too. Then he made a decision which hurt him more than anything. The sight of you wounded was heartbreaking. And he didn’t want to find you with a bigger wound the next day, or worse, he didn’t want you to lose your life. He would rather you live the rest of your life safely, without him, rather than risk your life trying to be with him.

“I have to let you go, my love.” he whispered the words you wished you hadn’t heard. You immediately circled your arms around him tighter and sniffled, nuzzling his neck.

“Please don’t.” you whispered. Bucky let the tear fall finally, unable to hold it in. You spoke again, “Each day I wake up and find that more and more of my people are moving far from here. It’s just a matter of time before they all leave, leaving me behind.”

The thought of you all alone down there where he couldn’t physically reach you or protect you was no less than a nightmare. But that path that you’d have to go down just to be with him was scary as well, and it would hurt you. So Bucky convinced himself that he was doing this for your own good. He took a deep breath, feeling a lump forming in his throat. “I have to do this.”

You sniffled again, tightening your arms around him. “No. You can’t give up on me. You’re all I have, Buck. Please.” You pleaded. He kissed the side of your head and cradled your head gently like you were a fragile glass figurine.

“You can have a long and beautiful life ahead. One where you won’t have to leave your home, where you won’t have to change or chase after a myth or get hurt-,” he stopped talking when he heard a sob escape your lips. He pulled you closer and hugged you tighter.

“No.” you cried, wetting his skin with your warm tears.

He tried to swallow the lump in his throat.

“I love you, more than anything. And I know I will never be able to love another. But for your own well-being, I need to let you go. Because although it will kill me each day, I would rather live with the relief that you’re out there alive somewhere rather than live with the guilt that you got yourself killed while trying to be with me.” Bucky tried his hardest to keep his voice steady. He couldn’t.

“Don’t leave me.” Another sob left your lips.

He sighed, his breath shaky. “Don’t cry, sweetheart. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me. I love you, I always will. But I can’t see you getting hurt like this because of me. This is for your own good.” He pressed one last kiss to the top of your head and carefully lifted you off his lap and set you down on the sand again.

He got up and your heart began racing much faster than earlier. You felt like you were about to pass out again. Your heartache morphed into rage inside of you, but you managed to contain it. “This is it then, huh? You’re just gonna leave me here like everyone else and forget me and move on with your life?” your sounded bitter and you had every right to be.

Bucky looked down at you and blinked his tears away. “I could never forget you. And I will love you till my dying day. Believe me, this isn’t any easier for me. But this is the only way to stop you from getting yourself hurt or killed. You need to let go of that madness.”

You chuckled dryly at his words. Borderline angry, borderline hurt. “You were wrong when you said you were selfish. You’re not just that, but you’re a coward as well.” Bucky watched how you wiped your tears and got back into the water. And before you swam away, you turned around to look at him. “If you change your mind, I hope you hurt just like you’re hurting me. But unlike you, I won’t be giving up on us.” You spat at him before you swam away as fast as you could.

As he watched you leave, he second guessed what he had done. He hoped you didn’t think that he loved you any less because you were different and belonged to a different world than him.

You didn’t think that way. And you knew he loved you just as much as you loved him but you had never expected him to take such drastic steps. You were hurting and before you knew it, you found yourself diving deeper. And while overthinking and bearing your heartache, realization hit a little later than usual and you found yourself swimming further and further away from home; into deeper and darker waters…

 -

When Bucky got back home, he was greeted by his close friends all waiting for him in the well-lit dining room; all sat around the large, oval stone table with goblets in front of them. Bucky tried his hardest to greet them like he normally did.

“You know we can see right through your bullshit, right?” Sam spoke first. The rest of his friends stared at him and Bucky knew that they knew that something was up. They were the closest friends he had, they were family and he knew they could see right through him.

“What do you mean?” Bucky asked, trying to act cool and received a bunch of groans and sighs of frustrations.

Steve spoke up next, “You leave almost every day at midnight. You row to God knows where, then you come back at the crack of dawn. And now you look like you’re a sad trader who just lost all his ships.” Steve spoke almost teasingly, but his concern could be heard in his voice.

“We’re your family, you know you can tell us anything.” Thor spoke up next.

“What is it, Barnes? Tell us.” Okoye spoke after. She was the kindest, strongest woman Bucky had ever come across.

Bucky hesitated. Oh so they noticed? He was glad that they did, because that would make talking about it a little easier. Only the issue here was, would they believe him if he told them the truth? Or would they just think that he’s lost it?

“Bucky. Talk.” Sam was beginning to lose his patience.

Bucky took a deep breath as he took a seat at the table as well. He grabbed the nearby jug of wine and filled the goblet closest to him and took a long sip. Then exhaled loudly and began talking.

“It’s… a woman.” His first few words earned him curious looks and a smirk from Okoye. “Well, not exactly a woman but…”

Ten minutes later, Bucky finally finished filling his friends in on all that’s been going on for the past many months. He told them about his unusual love life involving you. And how things began getting complicated and then gave them necessary details about your recent break up. They listened with straight faces. And despite being a bunch who always joked around, they were surprisingly serious as he talked.

When he was done, his friends were all quiet for a whole minute. Then Okoye spoke up,“You broke that poor thing’s heart when she spent all this time loving you?”

When she put it like that, something shattered inside Bucky. “I… I love her and I couldn’t sit there and watch her-,” Bucky stopped talking as Okoye shot him a glare. And that glare spoke volumes so he immediately stopped talking.

“Don’t make excuses. You broke her heart.” Okoye said in her no nonsense tone. “She wanted to come live with you. Among us. What’s so wrong with that?”

Bucky answered quickly after taking another sip of wine. “There’s nothing wrong with that. But how could I support that decision of hers when it would only hurt her even more. And the worse thing is, even if she’s trapped somewhere down there, I would never know.” he took a deep breath. “What if she dies chasing this god damned potion? What about me then?”

His words did make his friends think some more. Maybe his intention had been right, but the way he dealt with the situation wasn’t so right.

Steve whispered under his breath, “Well, love really does make people go crazy.”

Bucky spoke up again. “She was so hell bent and obsessed with finding that nonsense that she wasn’t realizing she was putting herself in danger.” His chest heaved, his emotions choking him. “She shouldn’t have to change for my love. She should embrace who she is and live her life. And be safe and happy.” At this point, he began doubting his own words and actions.

Could he himself live without you? How long could he pretend that ‘doing the right thing’ wasn’t killing him already?

“Why are you so against the potion?” Thor asked.

Bucky ran a hand through his hair. “Because it doesn’t exist. It’s a myth, a legend.”

“How do you know?” Sam asked, leaning back in his seat. His brown eyes staring into Bucky’s blue ones. “Months ago merpeople were myths to you as well. Now you’re foolishly in love with one of them.” he reasoned.

Bucky got really quiet again and avoided everyone’s eyes. Had he… had he made a terrible, terrible mistake?

Steve spoke up, leaning his elbows on the stone table. “Look, all this potions and merpeople, this all just proves that there’s a whole other world beneath us that we know nothing about. We should respect them. For their own safety, and we could at least try and protect them by keeping this a secret just between us.” He paused then stared at Bucky, “What we shouldn’t do is break their hearts when they’ve fallen in love with us!”

Yup, he deserved that one.

“You said it yourself, family and friends first. She’s your girl, she’s family. The least you could do was trust her and not give up on her.” Sam said in a serious tone. “Besides, how can you say for sure that she’ll give up on trying to find that potion now?”

Well shit. He hadn’t thought about that. He froze, tensing up at Sam’s words. Shit, shit, shit.

“You should go apologize. Now.” Okoye suggested.

Bucky groaned and wanted to bang his head on the wall. “She took off. She’s mad at me.” He mumbled and his friends all rolled their eyes at him and groaned in annoyance, mainly at his stupidity.

-

Heeding his friends’ words, Bucky went to find you the next day at nightfall. Except he didn’t have to be sneaky this time because they all knew he was leaving. But when he got to the isle and called out your name, you didn’t show up.

And a bad vibe loomed around him and around the place. He knew immediately that he had indeed, majorly messed up. He shouldn’t have let go of you like that. He thought he was doing the right thing but turns out, he ruined the best thing in his life.

Bucky waited at the shore. Heartbroken and hurt and angry – at himself. He was just trying to keep you safe. But in doing so, had he just lost the love of his life? For good this time?

[mandadoration]

you’re a fine girl - iii

summary: Agent Whiskey would really like you to say his real name for once, and you refuse, playing this little game of his until he finally makes you say it. The circumstances for it aren’t exactly ideal, though. 

word count: 1, 909

pairing: agent whiskey (Jack Daniels) x reader

warnings: canon-typical violence (and then some), swearing

chapters: i | ii | iii

Read this on AO3

As much as you want to, you can’t find the power to visit Whiskey while he’s recovering. He’s fine, obviously, with the medical advancements and Soda’s expert skill, he’ll be up in no time. But every time you stand in the elevator, hand hovering over the button for level sub-4, you feel sick.  You retreat back to your office and ignore the video calls from Ginger and Soda. You’ve even gone as far as to shove Whiskey’s black Stetson in a cabinet under your desk, and you consider doing the same to the necklace he had given you, but instead opt to just wear it and tuck it into your shirt out of sight. It weighs heavy against your neck, but it makes you feel the slightest bit better. Maybe you can just ignore everything until you finally grow a pair and do something about the worry that’s been nagging at you. 

You, however, cannot ignore Ginger and Soda when they walk into your office unannounced. 

“Can I help you?” you ask tiredly, taking off your Statesman issued glasses to rub your eyes. 

“What's wrong with you?” Soda asks bluntly, and Ginger smacks him. “What? I’m being honest. You’re holeing yourself up in your office more than usual.” Ginger rolls her eyes. 

“What he meant to say,” she stresses, “is that you’ve been… down ever since Whiskey came back Saturday.” You sigh and put your glasses back on. “We’re worried. This isn’t like you.”

“I’ve been working,” you say. A total, complete lie, and they know it too. “There’s a lot of paperwork that comes with severe injuries sustained in the field.” Not a lie. “Besides, why would… There’s no reason for me to go to the medical wing.” The biggest lie. 

“Brandy--”

“Whiskey’s been asking for you,” Soda blurts out, and Ginger smacks him again. “Ow! Quit that!” You tense and crumple a paper in your hand as anxiety swells in your chest. Well, there goes the contingency plan mock-up you had made for Ale’s mission. 

“Why?” you ask before you can stop yourself. Ginger stops her harassing to stare at you incredulously. 

“Seriously?” she sighs. “You don’t know?” You throw your hands up in the air. 

“Once again!” you say, almost hysterically. “What am I supposed to know? Everyone keeps asking me that, I really don’t know what the fuck--”

“For an intelligence supervisor, you’re really fucking stupid,” Soda says, and Ginger doesn’t hit him this time, instead nodding in agreement. You’re taken aback. 

“Excuse me?”

But Ginger and Soda are soon manhandling you out of your office and shoving you into the elevator, paying no attention to your complaints as they head to sub-4 and practically drag you to Whiskey’s recovery room, ignoring the curious stares that follow the three of you. They push you in, and shut the door, and your heart leaps to your throat when the lock clicks. You bang against the wall. 

“Let me the hell out!” you shout, but all you can hear on the other side of the door are the receding footsteps of the traitors you call friends. “I swear to God, I will make your life a living hell when I get out of here--”

“Brandy?”

If your heart was hammering before, it completely stops at the sound of his voice. There’s the shuffling of sheets behind you, and you slowly turn around with wide eyes as the blood drains from your face as Whiskey strains to sit himself up, looking much worse for wear that you had initially feared. You really should stop him from overexerting himself, but you’re glued to the floor. “What are you doing here?” he asks. His voice sounds so tired, and it’s only made worse when he tries to crack a smile. “Here to see little ol’ me?” he rasps, but dissolves into a coughing fit, holding his ribs as his face contorts in pain. Once he calms down, he looks up at you again, and frowns. “Sweetheart, are you okay?”

“I think I should be the one asking you that,” you finally say, voice small as you slowly make your way over to him. You keep a good distance away from him still. 

“‘m better now that I’ve seen you,” Whiskey says, running a hand over his face. He motions to the chair next to him. “Take a seat, darling, you’re making me anxious.” Your eyes dart over to it, and then back to his face, and eventually lower yourself into it. 

“What happened?” you ask. Whiskey winces. 

“Dealers somehow found out I was there to take down their operation,” he explains. “Got ambushed, got the shit kicked out of me, got the hell outta dodge.” He chuckles. “Told ya I didn’t want to go back.” You play with the impeccably white trim of his hospital blanket.

“Why didn’t you tell us as soon as you got on the plane that you were hurt?” you whisper. Whiskey runs the hand not stabbed full of IVs through his greasy hair. 

“I knew you would worry.”

“It was irresponsible of you.”

“And it was irresponsible of you to not take care of yourself,” he says sharply. “Seltzer’s been telling me how you’ve locked yourself away since I got here.” You curl inwards and lean away from the bed. Whiskey sighs. “I do apologize, sweetheart,” he says after a moment. “I’m going crazy from being stuck in here. Didn’t mean to snap at you.” 

“It’s fine,” you mutter. You’ve had your fair share of bedrest, and it is not fun. He shakes his head. 

“No, it’s not,” he says. “There’s no excuse for treating you like that.” A beat. 

“I said that you didn’t have to get me anything,” you say to change the subject. 

“And I said that you couldn’t stop me,” he laughs, but it wheezes out. Whiskey slowly reaches a hand out, pausing when you tense up, but keeps going when you don’t stop him. He loops his forefinger under the chain that’s peeking out of your collar and pulls it out from under your shirt. “You like it?” he asks, and he sounds uncharacteristically nervous, and he’s playing with the collar of your shirt instead of pulling his hand away. “I know-- Well, I don’t see you wearing any fancy jewelry or nothing, but I saw this and thought the opportunity was too perfect. Like, c’mon, it’s a braided chain--”

“‘Made of finest silver from the north of Spain’?” you finish. You’ve gotten countless jokes about the song, but it’s endearing when it comes from him. He quirks a smile. “Andalucia is technically Southern Spain, Agent Whiskey.” His smile drops. “N-not that I mind,” you stammer, afraid you’ve said something horrifically wrong. 

“I know you don’t,” Whiskey sighs. You purse your lips. 

“Then what’s wrong?” He shrugs. 

“I guess I dreamt you saying my name in the elevator,” he says, following it with an empty laugh as he looks away. “Ain’t that the cruelest trick the Sandman could play? He’s always been a son of a bitch to me. It had sounded so sweet...” You swallow and grab his hand where it rests on your collarbone, and you scoot your chair closer until your knees press against the edge of the bed. You hear his heart rate jump up on the monitor. 

“I… It wasn't… It wasn’t a dream.” Whiskey turns your hand over until he can lace his fingers through yours. 

“No?” he murmurs, and he brings your hand to his lips as he presses a kiss to it. He closes his eyes and keeps your hand there for a moment before letting it rest in his lap. “Mind reacquainting me with the way my name sounds coming from your lips?” Your mouth is suddenly very dry, but you lick your lips and the way you feel warm with how his eyes watch you is enough to give you the little push you need. 

“Jack.”

It’s barely audible over the rapid beeping of the monitor, but a pained noise emanates from his chest, and the hold on your hand tightens. “Again.”

Then louder this time, “Jack.” A disbelieving laugh. 

“Again.”

“Jack.”

And Jack Daniels yanks you closer to him until you’re halfway on the bed to bring you in a bruising kiss that steals the breath from your lungs, an arm wrapped around your waist as he presses as much of his body to yours as he can without yanking the IVs out. His heart rate is through the roof, rapidly beeping on the screen next to him. Jack’s mouth is warm and yours is pliant as he nips at your bottom lip, digging his fingers into your side. His voice is growling when he says, “Good girl,” against your lips.  

You’re one second away from slinging your leg around his hips to straddle him when Vermouth bursts in with wild eyes and a flushed face. 

“Whiskey! What’s wrong-- Oh.”

You nearly throw yourself out of Whiskey’s embrace, but he keeps you close as he glares daggers at the cowering medical assistant standing in the doorway. “You ever hear of knocking?” he drawls. Vermouth’s mouth opens and closes like a fish. 

“It’s just that-- Well, your heart rate it, um, we thought that you were, uh-- We thought you were in danger,” they stutter. Whiskey motions around the room. 

“Do you see any dangers here?” Vermouth makes a ‘kind of?’ motion with their hands. 

“You really shouldn’t be overworking yourself--”

“Kid, I’m fine,” Whiskey interrupts. “Now, shoo,” he says, “get,” and waves his hand at Vermouth, who has never looked more eager to leave the situation. And they’ve seen a lot of shit. You bury your head into his shoulder as you sigh. While Vermouth wouldn’t be coming back any time soon, you know they’re blabbing about what they’ve seen to anyone and everyone. 

“That was so embarrassing,” you whisper.  

Whiskey just laughs, pets your hair, and lets you keep your head where it is, only moving when you slide in the narrow bed next to him when your leg goes numb. The worry that’s been constricting around your heart starts to loosen with every breath he takes in, and he must sense that because he holds you as close as he can, minding the bandages and stitches and his bruised ribs. “You’re mighty affectionate today.” 

“I’m allowed to be after the emotional trauma you put me through,” you mumble. “I still have your hat.” Whiskey just hums and runs his fingers over the skin of your upper arm. He clears his throat. 

“Brandy, I… I have to tell you something,” he says, and there’s that nervousness from the day he was scheduled to leave. His heart rate picks up again, and he presses kiss to your hair to give him a moment to gather his thoughts. “I’ve been thinking about it for a while,” Whiskey says, “what you mean to me, and I know I’ve been a real ass sometimes, but I promise you, it’s all in good humor.” You’re glad you’re not hooked up to a monitor because your heart is pounding in your ears. “And… and I can’t promise anything, not after--” His voice catches, and he clears his throat. “But I, um, what I’m trying to say is--” You take pity on him and reach up to kiss the underside of his jaw, rough with stubble. 

“Don’t you know, Whiskey?” you say. “I already know.”

---

Forever Tag: @mabelleen @mando-vibes @isaissafail @adikaofmandalore @lavenderl3mons

you’re a fine girl Tag: @mrsparknuts @jokersdoll @ariasfandom​ @blondecity​ @yodaswrinkles​ @everythingaboutnothingstuff​ @cloud-of-roses​

[alicedopey]

A Gift for Daddy Chapter I: The English Surprise

banner edited by my love @naaladareia

Genre: Romance

Pairings: Harald x Reader / Harald x Magnus (Father and son)

Rating: PG 13(for the bad words lol)

Warnings: none....for the moment

Words: 1846

A/N: So, this will be a multi-part story although I don’t know where I’m going yet. And I blame @honestsycrets entirely for this.

Their little journey was supposed to go smoothly. Bjorn was possessed by this strong need to discover new lands again and of course, Magnus had expressed the will the go with him. Harald didn't feel like he was tired. The last battle for Kattegat had drenched him. So, he put Magnus between Bjorn's hands with no worries in the world. He would take good care of him. Besides, Magnus was prepared since he had taught him everything he knew.

The boy needed some guidance and as for himself, he needed some....someone, something, anything. Magnus was the son he had always been longing for, even though he was a Ragnarsson...or so he said. So, he gladly gave him that guidance and was now eagerly waiting for him at the shore like a proud father, ready to listen to his offspring's tales. The wait had been long enough.

A smile stretched his lips as the ships got closer and he spotted Magnus waving energetically. He was acting like a little boy. He was a little boy at heart, really.

The way he ran out of the boat and embraced him proved it. Harald hugged him back. Leaning backwards, he observed him closely.

“You look more than fine. So, did you discover new interesting lands with your brother ?”

“I sure did.” Magnus nodded enthusiastically. “I have so many things to tell you. We could have stayed longer but Bjorn was in a hurry to go back to his pregnant shield maiden.”

Of course. “Why did it take so long, then ?”

“Oh....Let's just say I took a little detour to England.” He smiled mysteriously.

“A detour ? By yourself ?” That was a little bit too much.

Magnus rolled his eyes. “A big part your men were with me. Plus, I know how to fight now. I had to go there and get your surprise.”

That caught his attention. What was in England that could please him ?

A commotion could be heard among the crowd and people drew aside to let a bunch of soldiers through. Soldiers who were circling a princess, a very familiar princess. Oh no, he didn't.

Your eyes were gleaming with anger and hatred. No words were needed to get what you were thinking of him even if you could not talk since you were gagged...and chained. The journey might have not been pleasant for his men and Harald was not surprised. From what he could remember, Princess Y/N had some temper. It was one of the things that made him fall in love with you in the first place.

He called some thralls that had followed him. “Get her settled in the other bedchamber, feed and bathe her...and have her room guarded, she might try to escape.”

The thralls bowed respectfully and went away with the princess, still escorted by some soldiers.

“Magnus, a word. Right now.”

The young boy seemed to lose some of his excitement and pride when he heard Harald's tone.

The King led him to the Great Hall where thralls were already preparing the feast to celebrate his return. Harald dismissed them and turned to look at Magnus severely.

“Where did you get the idea to kidnap this girl ?”

“You wanted her. And when a Viking wants something, a Viking takes it.”

Harald could have slapped himself for teaching the boy that idea.

“And what in the Gods am I supposed to do with a furious princess, ready to kill me?”

“Marry her. That's what you did with Astrid.” Magnus offered naively.

And look how well it turned out. “Good idea, she will probably stab me in my sleep.” He replied sarcastically.

A deep frown appeared on Magnus's face. “I'm sorry. I thought you would like my gift. Isn't it what a Viking would do ?”

Harald heaved a deep sigh when he saw Magnus's sad face. He was watching his father-like figure as if he had deceived him.

“Probably....you do realize that we will soon face a Saxon attack after that. Her father will certainly not like the affront.”

Marcus's face surprisingly lit up at his words. “There will be no such things. Her father passed away and her uncle is reigning over the kingdom now. Trust me when I say he couldn't care less about her.”

Harald remembered how spoiled you were by your father and how your fiery temper did not appease anything. No wonder your uncle wanted to get rid of you !

“Is that so ?” Harald sat on his throne and casually leaned on it. “I'll deal with her, then. Thank you Magnus.

The boy squealed in delight, glad he was able to please the King after all. Harald let out a laugh and dismissed him.

He would definitely deal with the princess. The question was; how ?

Several hours later, he still hadn't found the answer. The feast was going off around him. Magnus was awkwardly wooing a shield maiden and many soldiers were already passed out under the tables. Ale was beginning to cloud his mind as well. He had to confront you somehow even though it scared him a little.

Women. His biggest weakness. Truth to be told, he would rather fight an army by himself than confront this woman. Your first encounter was still vividly in his mind.

His stay in England had not been pleasant. He could have fought just like last time but an alliance seemed more interesting. He asked for an audience with the King. He wanted you...his daughter. The first time your eyes met, he knew he had to have you. He knew he could. So, he came into the court with confidence, even more so when the English King eyed him up and down, almost scared.

“King Harald. You wished to see me ?”

“Yes.” Harald grinned. “I have an offer to make.”

The King encouraged him to go on.

“An alliance between us. What would you say about that ?”

You were glaring at him, clearly not impressed. The King's eyes narrowed.

“What do you want from this alliance ?”

Harald smiled inwardly. The King appeared to be scared but he was no fool, he could give him that.

“A marriage would be nice.” Harald suggested lightly.

“With my daugther, I presume ?”

Harald grinned again, his fingers softly tapping his beard. “You presume well.”

The King was considering it, he could tell....and so could you. You furiously rose and looked at your father, outraged.

“I would never let this heathen touch me, he is worse than filth.” You shrieked indignantly. “I can't even  believe you are considering his offer. This is a real disgrace.”

“Y/N, be reasonable. For the people...” It was not difficult to see who had the upper hand here. He would not get you this way.

“That's quite alright.” Harald interrupted your little argument. “We, barbarians, do not force our daughters to marry anyone.” He looked at you mockingly. “Battle it will be, then.”

He had left the court, obviously disappointed but he could not take you against your will. He had tried this way and it had never worked. But maybe.... maybe he could coerce you to marry him. Daddy was not here anymore.

He finished his cup of ale with one gulp, slammed it down on the table and staggered to your chamber.

The guards looked at their master warily as he came near the room. He heard some crashing and smiled wickedly. You were furious.

He opened the door and saw the mess that had become the room he had you settled in; broken things everywhere, shredded dresses, furs thrown on the floor....

“I take it you don't feel better.”

You turned your head and glared at him. Feverish eyes, blushing cheeks, disheveled hair; a real turn on. You threw the pot you were holding in his direction and he ducked just in time. The object went crashing against the door.

“You !” You pointed a trembling hand at him. “Release me at once ! Filthy heathen !”

“And where would you go, hm ? I heard your father is no more and it appears your uncle wouldn't mind if you were never to return.”

He could see the tears welling up in your eyes at the mention of your father. He almost....almost regretted his words.

“You don't know anything.”

“The King of filth.” You threw a pitcher at him.... and missed him, again.

Harald rolled his eyes. “You can break everything here but you know you'll only tire yourself. I think we should talk about this.”

“About what ? You taking me against my will ?” You screamed, out of breath.

“I personally think you would make a wonderful queen. Fierce, strong....but so emotional.”

He was obviously mocking you. “I said it before and I'll say it again. I will never, ever let you touch me. I will never be your Queen.”

“I could give you everything you have ever wished for.”

Her upper lip curled up in disgust. “You could never....don't come any closer !”

Harald raised his hands to show you he was not a threat. “Look, I'm not going to hurt you. I just want to talk.”

“Leave me alone !” He took another few steps towards near you. “I said, don't come near me...” You frantically looked around you but there was nothing left to throw at him. Desperately, you bent over and took off your shoe to brandish it above your head.

Harald bit his lip to prevent himself from laughing, aware that it would anger you even more.  But you looked so cute. So, he did not pay attention to your words and kept walking.

Your shoe flew by his cheek and noisily landed against the wall. Frustrated, you bent over to take the other shoe. You looked at him defiantly and threw your projectile, only this time it reached its target, hitting Harald in the face. You let out a laugh as Harald groaned and stumbled backwards.

He inhaled. “You are not ready to talk, I see. I'll come again tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow will be the same.” You sneered.

To your utter surprise, Harald smiled. “If you say so...” He picked up the two shoes, before turning around to look at you. “I take those since you don't seem to need them.”

He was waiting for any reaction: a cry, a scream, a complaint but nothing came. He knew you were angry but too proud to say anything.

“We agree, then.” He smiled, then he walked to door and opened it. “Good night...Princess.”

You glared at him one last time before he disappeared. He had just closed the door when he heard an indignant shout and smiled. You would be fun to court.

Tagging: @naaladareia @therealcalicali @tephi101 @ilooklikeididyesterday @peaceisadirtyword @mblaqgi @ivarswickedqueen @ivarslittlebadgirl @akamaiden @thevikingsheaux

Please tell me if you want to be added or removed ; )

[joonbird]

Heartbeat | 1

➭ “You’ve always stayed far away from the Kingsnakes, the coldblooded gang that runs the dark heart of your city. That is until your life collides with the intriguing and dangerous Jung Hoseok.”

pairing: hoseok x reader

genre: gang!au, smut

wordcount: 8k

part one | two | three | four | five | six | seven | eight | nine

“I’m just so bored.” 

You sighed noisily, holding your cup of cappucino in your hands. Your best friend Ara, just laughed at you, shaking her head at your complaint.

“Boring is good.” She insisted lightly. You just rolled your eyes at her as you took another sip of your coffee.

“It really isn’t.” You muttered, frowning. “Boring is boring. All I do is go to work, go home, go out. I want something new. I want something exciting.” You sighed heavily, tossing your now empty coffee cup in the bin. 

Ara just grinned, nudging you playfully. “What is this, a mid-life crisis? Or early-life crisis, I should say?” She giggled a little at her bad joke, you just shook your head at her. 

“I’m not laughing at that.”

“Look. Just chill. Things will get dramatic and then you’ll come running back to me talking about how you wish your life could be boring. Just you wait.” She shot you an angelic smile, you just glared back.

“I hate you, seriously.”

She just laughed again, throwing her coffee in the bin. 

“Oh, Tae’s here.” Ara nodded up to the door of the coffee shop, where her older brother, Kim Taehyung was standing. “How’s he doing?” You murmured quietly. Taehyung had recently gone through a messy, intense breakup and had been a shell of his usual bubbly self. Now, a few months had passed and he was slowly returning to his usual sunshine state. 

Ara shrugged. “A lot better, I think. Finally. His moping around was getting really annoying.” She rolled her eyes and you just shoved her teasingly. “Be nice to your brother.”

Taehyung waved when he saw the two of you, weaving his way through the busy store. He had a big grin on his face as he leaned in to give you both a quick hug.

“Hey sis,” He said lightly. “Hi Y/N. I haven’t seen you around in a while.” He gave you one of his signature bright Taehyung smiles, you just smiled back warmly. 

You had known Taehyung and Ara since the three of you were just kids. Back then it had been just you and your father, alone in a tiny apartment. It had been difficult, you were teased at school for having a tatty uniform and greasy hair. You would bite your lip and take the teasing, wishing desperately that your father would come across money somehow, to buy you a new school uniform, to pay the hot water bill. But that day didn’t come. Your father had always tried to make it fun for you, building you blanket forts and inventing stories in the darkness. But he struggled, working three jobs to put the bare minimum on the table, and it was often you alone in your apartment.

When Taehyung and Ara had moved next door, things had gotten easier. You had stayed most days at Ara’s house, Ara gave you her old clothes and there was always food at Ara’s house. You had grown up together, seeing each other through the best and the worst of teenagehood and adulthood. First kisses, first crushes, fights, tears, everything.

You glanced over at Taehyung and Ara now, they were going to visit their family for dinner and were arguing now about who was going to drive. Your eyes lingered on Taehyung for a moment. He was as beautiful as ever, tall, with a lean body and an easygoing smile. He was always popular in school, with his beautiful eyes and model-like face. You had pined after Taehyung desperately and in secret throughout most of your adolescence, along with every other girl you knew. Now, well, now, he was just Tae. Your best friend’s older brother, your friend since childhood.

“Alright, well I’m going to go to the bathroom. I’ll meet you guys outside?” Ara said quickly, you nodded, walking with Taehyung out to the front of the store. It was a brisk day, you shivered a little in the cool air.

“It’s cold today, huh?” Taehyung said lightly, smiling warmly at you.

“Freezing,” You said, sighing. “Anyway, how are you Tae? How’s life as a big fancy art gallery owner?” You grinned, punching him lightly on the arm. Taehyung had recently gotten a massive promotion and was now running the city’s biggest and most prominent art gallery. 

“Really good,” He shrugged a little, feigning nonchalance, but the smile on his face gave him away. You could always read Taehyung like a book, he was just like Ara in that respect. Tae wore his emotions on his sleeve.

“Please, I can see right through your Mr Cool Guy façade Tae.” You giggled, poking him on the shoulder. He just rolled his eyes and chuckled at you. 

“Okay, okay, enough with the teasing. How can I forget- you’re best friends with my sister, you give me just as much shit as she does, I swear.”  

“Yeah, lucky you, two little sisters to deal with,” You teased, grinning up at him.

Taehyung just looked at you for a moment, biting his lip indecisively.

“Hey,” Taehyung said finally, stepping a little closer to you. He was looking at you more seriously now. “I don’t see you as a little sister at all.” 

A pause hung between the two of you, he was staring at you with an expression on his face you’d never seen before. He hesitated before opening his mouth again. “Y/N-”

“What are you two looking so serious about?” Ara bounded up to the two of you, Taehyung stepped back, clearing his throat a little. A calm expression had settled back over his face, you eyed him for a moment before turning to your friend with a smile.

"Nothing,” You said, glancing over at Taehyung and then back to Ara. “Anyway, don’t you two have to head off to dinner?” 

Ara nodded, searching through her bag for her keys.

“Bye Ara. Bye Tae.” You met Taehyung’s eyes, he was staring at you with a slight smile. 

“I’ll see you soon?” He asked softly. You just nodded in response. 

Things were familiar with Taehyung, as was everything in your life at the moment. 

Familiar, and comfortable.

It really was freezing outside. You shivered a little as you walked, you had decided to walk home instead of catching the bus. Your conversation from earlier was still playing on your mind, you were tired of your monotonous routine and you were craving something different. Something exciting. 

A little voice whispered to you that maybe this was it, this was life- a mindless shuffle of work, sleep, socializing. You shook your head suddenly, as if to get the voice out. The voice was wrong, it had to be wrong. You had to prove it wrong. This couldn’t be it, this couldn’t be the meaning of life. There had to be more, right? You had always imagined your life would turn out differently, involving passion, a wild, breathtaking love, excitement and adventure. Basically the opposite of what your life was like now.

You rounded the corner, you weren’t too far off from your home now and you were grateful, it was a chilly day. And that was when you saw him.

He was standing there, leaning against a big motorbike, a cigarette dangling from his lips. He had a bored expression on his face, taking long drags from his cigarette like his life depended on it. He was gorgeous, there was no doubt about it- he had strong features and a sharp jaw, slicked back dark hair and an aura of icy confidence about him. You had never seen him, or anybody like him, before.

You were staring, watching as he brought the cigarette to his lips and gazed around listlessly. His eyes met yours. He didn’t smile, he just stared at you, and you stared back boldly. He had dark eyes that searched yours, as he took a long, slow drag from his cigarette. Smoke billowed out of his mouth, briefly clouding his face from your vision. When it cleared, he was still staring at you, head slightly tilted. You felt something spark in the pit of your stomach. 

You were walking before your legs even knew where they were going, you were acting purely on instinct as you walked straight up to him. He just watched you coolly as you stood in front of him.

“Can I have a cigarette? I’m all out.” The lie came out smoothly, your heart was racing in the background of your words. You didn’t know what it was that had encouraged you to walk up to him like that, maybe it was the fear of boredom and monotony, maybe it was just him, you didn’t know. Regardless, here you were, standing in front of him, hands on your hips.

He just kept staring at you, before he reached into his back pocket, pulling out a pack of cigarettes and passing one over to you. You rolled it over in your fingers, hesitating. You hadn’t touched a cigarette since you were in the ninth grade at school, and you and Ara had thought it would be funny to try a discarded one you found on the street. Taehyung had found out, Tae always found out somehow, and had yelled at the both of you.

“Here,” The guy said, his voice made your heart flutter. It was deep and clear, like a bell. He leaned in closer to you, dragging on his cigarette, letting the butt of his cigarette touch yours. You inhaled. His face was right by yours, you could suddenly smell his scent- tobacco, mixed with something richer and woody. His eyes looked right into yours, inches away from you. You felt a ripple of something, excitement, anticipation maybe, throughout your body. 

And then you coughed.

You tried to hide it but you couldn’t, spluttering a little, your face turning pink. He pulled away slowly, still watching you, the tiniest hint of a smirk on his lips. 

“Aren’t you a rebel, smoking on the street with a stranger,” He drawled, narrowing his eyes a little at you challengingly. 

“Aren’t you a bit sad, standing out on the street all by yourself,” You retorted, his eyes just flashed in amusement and he shrugged.

“Depends on what your definition of sad is.” He studied you, his eyes narrowed slightly. “What’s your name then?” He nodded at you dismissively, you took a slow drag from your cigarette, fighting the urge to cough.

“Y/N.” You met his eyes evenly, he just nodded, falling silent. You frowned.

“What’s your name? You can’t just ask me for mine and not tell me yours.” You smiled a little, but he didn’t smile back. 

“I can do whatever I want, love.” He replied back instantly, evenly. You rolled your eyes at him, not fazed by his sudden moodiness.

“Fine then.” 

He just glanced at you, amusement in his features. You just rolled your eyes at him. Something about the way he was staring at you was irritating, yet you found yourself having fun, enjoying the banter, the back and forth.

“Give me your number,” He said suddenly. You paused, hesitating.  

“What makes you think I’ll just give you my number like that?” You asked finally.

He just smiled, a slow, confident smile, pulling out his phone and holding it out at you expectantly.

Damn it, you thought, reaching forward and typing in your phone number. He just nodded and slid his phone into his back pocket without so much as a second glance, meeting your eyes evenly. You stared back, feeling intrigued by him, he was different, in every sense of the word. He had you hooked already and you didn’t even know his name.

He took another long drag from his cigarette. Your eyes followed his movements, falling on his hand. You noticed a tattoo etched on his thumb bone, a black ink tattoo that inched up his hand and disappeared into the sleeve of his beat up leather jacket. 

It was a tattoo of a kingsnake, curling around his hand, gripping around his wrist. You recognized it instantly, although you had never seen one in person before, let alone this up close. It was a kingsnake tattoo, the signature that members of the Kingsnakes gang wore. You gulped a little, sneaking another look at his face. He hadn’t noticed your change in demeanor, staring off into the distance absently.

You didn’t know much about the Kingsnakes, but what you did know was enough to tell you that this guy was bad news. The rumour was that they ran the crime and drug scene in your city. You sometimes came across groups of them hanging out, they always intrigued and intimidated you with their icy cold stares and the constant fear and rumours that swirled around them. They all looked the same, with their cold eyes and that distinctive tattoo.

He refocused his attention on you, noticing you staring at his tattoo. A knowing smirk spread across his face.

“Scared?” He teased mockingly. You hesitated, the truth was, you were a little scared. But more than the fear was the intrigue. You were interested.

“Hoseok.” A voice cut through the two of you, you turned to see a tall girl strolling up, her hips sashaying, eyes narrowed at you. 

You turned back to the mysterious guy, Hoseok, he just had that cold expression on his face. 

“Let’s go.” She walked straight up to the bike, hopping on. Hoseok followed, swinging one leg over the bike. You noticed straightaway how he looked, straddling the bike, his strong thighs gripping the edge of the vehicle, and you swallowed.

The girl gave you an icy cold glare but you weren’t looking at her, you were staring at Hoseok. He was still staring at you, he didn’t say goodbye, he didn’t even so much as raise an eyebrow. He just stared. And then he revved up the engine, a loud roar that made you jump back a little, startled. 

You looked into his eyes, dark eyes that were impossible to read… and then he drove away.

You stood there, shivering, staring ahead at the street, watching him roar off on his motorbike. You dropped the cigarette, stepping on it and grinding your heel into the concrete, feeling your heart beat loud and fast, while his name, Hoseok, chanted in your head like a mantra.

It had been a few days since your run-in with one of the Kingsnake members, and his face kept popping into your brain at every spare moment. Hoseok. His dark eyes, his sharp jawline, how close he had been standing to you while he lit your cigarette with his, eyes trained on you with an intensity you had never experienced from a man before.

You couldn’t stop thinking about him. You couldn’t stop recalling the image of the black ink snake, vivid against his skin. The way he had leaned in and asked you if you were scared. In an odd way, you were and you liked it. You were intrigued, and you wanted more.

Days had passed and you hadn’t heard anything from him. You didn’t have his number, you didn’t even know his surname. So you were forced to just live in an frozen, silted standstill, unsure if he would contact you eventually or if he was just fucking around with you the entire time.

You were about to fall asleep, it was Friday night and you were looking forward to having a quiet night at home. It was nearing 1AM, when your phone let out a few loud rings.

You glanced down at it dismissively, seeing a string of unfamiliar numbers pop up on the screen. You hesitated, your breath catching in your throat.

Could it be…? 

You answered the phone and his husky voice filled the line right away.

“Where do you live?”

You blinked.

“What?”

“Where do you live? Meet me. I’ll meet you on your street.”

Your jaw dropped a little.

“Are you joking? It’s the middle of the night…”

“What’s your street called?” Impatience was creeping into his tone, you just blinked in shock. He was being serious. You glanced at your clock, it was nearly 1AM and you were in your pyjamas.

You knew the sensible thing would be to hang up and go to sleep. But something had you standing still, your phone pressed to your ear, heartbeat thrumming in your chest.

You told him your street, your voice trembling slightly.

“Okay I’ll see you outside in ten minutes.” He hung up, the click and a dial tone filling your ears. You slowly put your phone down, feeling disbelief. Was he really coming to see you now, at 1AM on a Friday night? You shook your head, it was a ridiculous situation. It was a situation that you didn’t need to involve yourself in.

Yet you stood up and started getting dressed, feeling your palms go clammy in anticipation and your heart rush faster, beating rapidly like a hummingbird’s wings, nerves filling you whole. 

You were out the door in nine minutes, in the cool night air. It was silent outside, eerie. The streets were empty and the silence just made your heartbeat seem louder, the air colder. 

And you slipped out into the street, walking to your meeting point, looking for the boy with the snake tattoo.

It had been thirty minutes and no sign of Hoseok.

Irritated, you stared down at your phone. You had tried to call his number but it just went straight to voicemail. It was freezing, and here you were, in the middle of the night, standing outside your street waiting for some guy you didn’t even know to come and meet you. 

“What the fuck am I doing?” You mumbled, sighing and shaking your head. It was time to go home. You didn’t know what Hoseok was playing at, but you were over it.

You heard footsteps crunch behind you. 

“Leaving so soon?”

 It was him, you could tell instantly, you recognized that voice and that cocky drawl. 

You whirled around, eyes narrowed. He was standing in front of you, dressed in that same leather jacket, an amused smirk on his lips.

“I don’t know what you’re playing at but I’m heading home.” You snarled the words out before snapping your body around, marching angrily down the street. He just scoffed, following behind you closely.

“Are you really being a pissed off bitch right now because I was late? Jesus, remove that stick from your ass love, would you?” He said in a low, even, mocking voice. You just ignored him, quickening your pace. He followed closely.

“Alright, you’re trying to do the silent treatment? Well, it’s not working. You see, I actually have to care for silent treatment to work.” He said coldly.

You fumed silently. “Why’d you even call me then?” You muttered finally, refusing to look at him. You could tell from the tone on his voice that he was smirking, that overconfident smirk you had quickly grown to despise.

“I can tell your type from a mile away. Bored, good little girl fascinated with the scary bad boy. That’s it, isn’t it? Felt good to be a little rebel for a change? Go for the bad boy?” His words grated at you, you spun around, glaring at him.

“Trust me Hoseok, it is not like that. I am not interested in you.” 

Hoseok grabbed you suddenly, causing you to suck in your breath in surprise. He pulled you in close, until your body was pressed up on his, his fingers locked around your wrist. He just stared down at you challengingly, his dark eyes stared into yours. You hated how tightly he was holding your wrist, the cocky look in his eyes, but every fibre of your body was quivering from being so close to him.

“Aren’t you?” he just said in a low, throaty voice, quirking one eyebrow at you. You just glowered back.

“No,” You responded, but your voice trembled. Your heart was racing, the heat from his body was radiating against you. 

“Why are you so weak from me touching you like this? God, how long has it been since you were laid?”

“Fuck off,” You said icily, he just smirked. 

“You wish love,” He replied slowly, staring at your face. You just stared back, your resolve slipping slightly. His gaze dropped from your face down to your chest, he didn’t even try to hide it, meeting your gaze with a smirk. “I haven’t gotten laid in a few days too, why do you think I’m here?” He added airily.

“God you’re disgusting. Why aren’t you off with that girl then?” You snapped, but you didn’t move, you didn’t want to stop touching him. He was still right up pressed up into you. He just scoffed loudly.

“What, Soo-ah? God, you’re such a child. She doesn’t give a fuck what I do, and I don’t give a fuck what she does. We’re not together.” 

Your face burned a little at his insult and his dismissive tone. He stared at you for a second before he stepped away from you. The cool air hit your skin and you stood there, dazed for a second. Hoseok just laughed, the first laugh you had heard from him. You were taken aback by his laugh, it was loud and he laughed with his entire body, his eyes creasing. He looked uncharacteristically soft while he was laughing.

“God you’re easy to rile up,” He said finally, shaking his head. “I’m right and you know it. You’re too much of a good girl. You’d never actually do anything with me beyond having one drag of a cigarette, because at the end of the day, you’re too scared.” He smirked triumphantly, your eyes flashed, irritation rising in your chest at his words.

You knew he was right, but all of the sudden, all you wanted to do was prove him wrong. Your chest swelled as you stepped up closer to him, eyes narrowing.

“Well you’re wrong, jackass,” You hissed evenly. “I’m up for anything. And I’m only here because I want you to take me on a ride. Not because I want you, you self righteous asshole.”

“A ride?” He raised his eyebrows, and you just nodded, feeling your resolve waver before you steeled, nodding over to his bike which was still down the street.

“Yep.”

He just stared at you, surprise on his face before he recovered neatly.

“Alright then.” It was clear he didn’t really think you were going to do it, so you followed him as he strolled down the street and hopped on his bike casually, feigning a similar nonchalant attitude.

Your heart was beating so hard and so fast you were sure it was going to explode of your chest. He was sitting on his motorbike, hands on the steering grips. You gingerly sat behind him, wrapping your arms around his waist. You could feel his warmth beneath you, the muscles in his back rippling and you gulped a little. Nerves were kicking in, you felt numb in fear and exhilaration, and then without any warning, Hoseok revved up the engine and tore down the street.

You felt the breath being knocked out of you as soon as you flew down the street. You were going so fast your eyes stung with tears, your hair whipping around you as you tightened your grip around Hoseok’s waist, burying your face momentarily into his back. You could smell him, that slightly smoky, woody smell, and you felt your stomach tighten. You felt adrenaline course through your veins as he zoomed down the street, turning a low left. You heard his voice, deep, yell out, rumble through his body, sending vibrations through his back.

“Surprised you haven’t jumped off in fear yet, princess.”

You smiled a little despite yourself, feeling the adrenaline start to kick in properly. You didn’t answer, as he suddenly slowed to a stop.

You hopped off, your entire body trembling in exhilaration. He was just staring at you, his hands still on his bike as you giggled. You felt giddy, exhilarated, adrenaline coursing through your veins, your entire body light and shaky as you span around in a little circle. You heard him laugh, a quick chuckle that escaped him, you glanced over at him and felt your heart beat even faster. He was watching you with amused eyes, his arms folded.

“You’re so predictable,” He said shortly, you just grinned back. You didn’t care how predictable you were being, your heart was still going a thousand miles an hour. Hoseok was staring at you, an intense expression on his face.

He swung a leg off his bike, strolling straight up to you purposefully. 

“I want to fuck you.” 

your jaw dropped a little at his words, he was staring at you challengingly. You had never had a guy ask you for sex in such a straightforward way before, but the words that tumbled out of your mouth came out without you even thinking about them. Your entire body called out for him, remembered how it felt pressed against you earlier, his dark eyes and full lips.

“Okay,” you breathed out.

“Aren’t you easy,” He said snidely. 

“You’re not complaining,” You retorted immediately, a little smile fell on his lips before he turned, walking up to the path to the house in front of you, a construction site.

“Follow me.” 

You hesitated, he didn’t turn back. You had assumed he was going to take you to his place, or go back to yours, yet here he was walking up to a fucking construction site. You faltered a little before you hurried behind him. Your heart was pounding so loudly from the bike ride, from him, from his strong, clear words that you felt like you were on the edge already.

He kicked open the construction door and strolled confidently into the house, you followed timidly as he opened the door and walked inside. The entire inside of the house was covered in plastic sheets and design papers, you stood there shell shocked for a moment before you turned to him, about to ask what exactly you were doing there.

But he was standing right there and he pushed you firmly against the nearest wall, you gasped out as he leaned in, whispering into your ear as his hand reached between your legs, rubbing your slit through your jeans.

His voice was husky in your ear, making your core tighten.

“I’m going to fuck you here,” He said lowly. “Right here, against this wall.” You just breathed out and nodded, his fingers working circles against your jeans had your knees weak already, his breath on your neck and his other hand holding you against the wall. you could feel the drywall behind you, it was rough, yet the only sensation that you could feel was the tension from his fingers massaging rough, purposeful circles against you. He pulled his head back to stare at your face, he didn’t waste any time, lifting your shirt above your head.

“Take your bra and jeans off.” He said shortly, throwing his jacket onto the floor and taking off his top and jeans quickly. He had a condom in his pocket, he slid it onto his length while you stared. 

“Take your clothes off,” He snapped out, you hurried, your jaw dropping when you saw him naked in front of you. He had a strong body, defined abdomen and a lean, muscular torso with strong thighs. You immediately felt your mouth water, your pussy throbbing just from staring at him. His dick stood up straight, one vein running down it’s entirety. It was big, thick, and he looked down at it with a hint of pride on his face before he dragged his attention back to you, raking you with his eyes. You didn’t have time to feel shy, and you didn’t, with the hungry look he had on his face as he stared at you.

“Fuck you have great tits,” he growled, suddenly pushing you back up against the wall, cupping both of your breasts in his hands. He rolled your nipples between his fingers, making you moan out loudly. 

“God you’re horny for me already… naked for me and moaning already, I haven’t even put my dick in you yet.” He growled, you just whimpered. You were throbbing so badly for him, you squeezed your thighs together, needing release.

He reached his hand down in between your legs, groaning a little as he slipped a finger inside of you. You moaned out at the feeling, he had his thumb working quick circles against your clit as he slid another finger in, he slowly pumped it in and out of you. 

“God you’re soaking wet, like a little slut, aren’t you?” He drawled, your eyes flashed. “Being finger fucked by me…” He pulled his fingers out, staring into your eyes as he put them into his mouth, licking your wetness off of him. The sight made you shake in desire.

“Shut the fuck up and fuck me,” You begged, reaching down and wrapping a hand around his dick. It was rock hard in your hand, his eyes flashed and he grabbed you by the hips, spinning you around so you were facing the wall.

“Spread your legs and put your hands on the wall,” He demanded, you immediately complied, you were aching for him so badly that you would’ve done anything. He hissed a little, sucking in his breath. 

“God, you look like a fucking buffet like that, all spread out for me,” He growled, reaching down and slapping one of your ass checks. The sound echoed through the empty house, the sensation made you wetter, you clenched your jaw.

“Stop teasing and fuck me,” You moaned, desperation slipping into your tone.

“You’re begging for my cock are you?” He groaned, but you could tell by the strained voice he had that he was starting to reach the point of urgency as well.

“Please,” you begged.  “Hoseok, please.”

And just like that, he slid into you.

The feeling of his large, thick dick stretching you had you moaning out immediately, but he didn’t go slow, he went fast straight away. He pumped his cock into you, letting out a loud groan at the sensation.

“God you’re tight!” he moaned, grinding his dick deep into you. “Fucking hell,” He swore, his voice strained, you had your hands out in front of you, gripping the rough drywall. All you could feel was his dick sliding in and out of you, you were bent over, his hands gripping your hips. You could hear the loud slaps of skin as he fucked you, filling you and hitting spots deep inside of you that you didn’t know existed.

“Yeah aren’t you a dirty girl for me, getting fucked like this,” he growled, slapping your ass again. You just moaned out.

“Yes Hoseok,” you groaned. “Fuck, your dick feels amazing.” He grunted at your words, running hs hands over the curve of your ass.

“God you look hot from this angle, I can see everything,” He breathed out. You craned your head back a little to look at him and you felt your core tighten, his shoulder muscles were tensed, his collar bones protruding and abs flexed as he pumped into you, his thick cock slamming your walls.

“Stand up,” he snapped, you stood up, and he was pressing into you, his hands all over your breasts, squeezing them and rolling your nipples over his finger as he fucked you. Your body was pressed against the drywall, your palms against the wall as he had his hands squeezing your breasts, fucking into you with sloppy, heavy thrusts. 

“God Hoseok,” You moaned out. 

“You’re so loud, fuck, you want everyone to hear how good you’re being fucked?” He muttered in your ear, you just nodded, squeezing your eyes shut and moaning out at the feeling of him sliding in and out of you, your nipples in his fingers.

The angle of his dick was making you start to feel dizzy, sudden waves of tingling anticipation coursing through your core.

“I’m going to come,” You breathed out, he just reached down and slapped your ass again.

“Bend over,” He demanded, you immediately did what you were told, just wanting him to continue, you were so close and all you could focus on was him, how amazing he felt. He knew exactly how to grind himself into you, pushing himself deeper into you until you felt like you had to scream.

“Fuck, Hoseok, fuck, fuck,” You stammered desperately. “Oh my god ohmygodohmygod,” You were shaking, your legs going weak as your orgasm rippled through your entire body. It was so intense it had your vision blurring, you felt nothing but an intense, all-consuming glow spread across your entire body. Your pussy tightened around him at your orgasm and he groaned loudly, slamming himself into you with a few desperate, sloppy thrusts as he came, moaning out loudly into the still air.

You were still leaning against the wall, your palms supporting you as your body trembled. Hoseok pulled out of you, groaning loudly, you stood there, your eyes squeezed shut as you rode out your orgasm, moaning softly. 

It had been incredible, his dark eyes staring at you lustfully, his hands all over you, slapping your ass, whispering dirty words in your ear that you had only ever dreamed about. 

It was without a doubt the hottest sex you had ever had in your life, the guys you had slept with before him, God, you couldn’t even remember their names right now let alone what the sex had felt like, had always been so gentle and so sweet. This guy, Hoseok, had been dominating, animalistic, wanting to use you and wanting you to use him. You had never craved another person so badly and the release had been so completely worth it.

You shuddered out a heavy breath, standing up a little and glancing over. He was leaning against the wall, his eyes shut, head tilted up. You were struck suddenly by how beautiful he was, face serene, long lashes framing his eyes.

You gazed down at his body, his taut, naked body, and at the snake tattoo that wrapped around his hand and ended at his elbow, the flicker of a tail curling around his elbow. As if he was sensing you, he opened his eyes, meeting your gaze and holding it for a long second.

“You’re not going to get all clingy and sentimental on me, are you?” He asked shortly, standing up properly and grabbing his clothes off of the floor. He averted your gaze, you blinked, feeling a little pang of hurt.

“No,” You said back instantly, following him and putting on your clothes.

“Just saying, you strike me as the type of person who doesn’t know how to detach sex from emotions. Just so we’re clear- there are no emotions here.” He said shortly, his words staccato, pointed.

You just swallowed and nodded, suddenly afraid that maybe he was right, maybe you were the kind of person who didn’t know how to detach. You always had been in the past. You glanced at him, zipping up his jeans with an impassive expression on his face. Surely you wouldn’t develop anything more than sexual attraction for this man, he was so far from your type that you couldn’t imagine actually falling for him, actually being with him. The idea was foreign to you. You wondered suddenly if you’d even see him again, if this was just a once off. The uncertainty of it all had you hesitating, you looked down at your palms, they were red and sore from pressing into the roughly painted walls.

“I’ll head home then,” You said finally, in a small voice. You glanced around the empty house for a moment, just moments ago it had felt so small, your moans echoing around the walls, and now it felt so large, so foreign.

You walked out of the main door, he followed you, shrugging on his big leather jacket, an unlit cigarette dangling from his lips as he walked up to his bike, settling on it comfortably.

“Alright… well, bye.” You shivered out in the cool air, he watched you, an unreadable expression in his eyes.

“Where do you live again? Near where we met before?” He asked bluntly. He tucked the cigarette behind his ear, frowning at you. 

“Um,” you said, “I can walk.”

He scoffed, kicking at the ground, suddenly unsure. “Get on the bike.”

You blinked at him in confusion.

“What?”

“I’m not going to ask twice, get on the fucking bike.” 

You stared at him for a moment before you moved forward, slipping into the seat behind him and wrapping your arms around his waist. It felt strangely intimate, he stood still for a moment and you felt his chest heave with a sigh before he started the ignition.

You zoomed down the street, your heart beat faster but you weren’t sure whether it was because of the ride or because of him, his warm body beneath yours.

He slowed down as he reached your street, you nodded up at your place. “This is me.” He slowed to a stop, leaning on one leg as you hopped off. He glanced up at your building critically, then around you, at the houses surrounding. It was a nice area, out of your budget for sure but you and your housemate split rent.

You followed his gaze, wondering what he was thinking. 

His eyes found yours again, his mouth was set in a firm line and then he had the ignition going on again as he zoomed off without so much as saying goodbye.

It had been a week since you had slept with Hoseok and you hadn’t heard a single word from him.

You stared at his number in your phone and wondered if he would message, something, anything, but of course nothing came. Every day at work ticked past, and you felt yourself grow restless. You couldn’t shake the feeling, and irritation felt like it was seeping into your bones by the end of your week.

You were leaving work now, walking to Ara’s place. Ara was having a few friends over for a movie marathon, you were looking forward to the distraction.

 As you hurried down the street, you paused, sucking in your breath. There was a group of Kingsnakes standing on the street surrounding some bikes, all dressed in their signature leather jackets. Your eyes searched the group but Hoseok wasn’t there, you deflated a little in disappointment before you internally kicked yourself for being so hopeful in the first place. 

You looked at them curiously, recognizing the girl who had been on Hoseok’s bike the first time you met. Soo-Ah. She recognized you too, her eyes narrowing into menacing slits as she turned to one of the members, whispering in his ear. He turned, facing you, and you felt a little pang of intimidation seize you.

He was tall, and ordinary looking, but he had the coldest eyes you had ever seen. They were truly like a snake’s – flat and devoid of any emotion, any empathy. He stared at you evenly, it felt like there was a warning being communicated, something being said. He stood with authority, you assumed instantly he was the leader of the group, he stood strong and tall, menacing. You felt frozen, locked in his stare, before he turned, refocusing his attention back on the group.

You stood there in shock, before you put your head down and hurried down the street, feeling your heart thump in your chest. There was something about him, something about the stare he had given you, that struck fear into you. 

“This is serious,” You muttered to yourself. You knew it was true, you didn’t know anything about Hoseok and what he was involved in had a serious element of danger associated. Whatever that stare meant, you didn’t want to know.

You were still shaken when you arrived at Ara’s, putting your coat away and forcing a smile on your face. You sensed Taehyung’s eyes on you straightaway but you avoided his gaze. You had arrived late, the movie had already started, some horror movie that Ara and her friends had been desperate to watch.

You settled onto the couch, feeling tense. That man, whoever he was, the leader of the group, his icy stare was etched into your mind.

You glanced up, as Taehyung settled beside you. 

“Hey,” He greeted lightly. You just smiled faintly back. “Don’t worry, you haven’t missed much.” He gave you a little grin, you just stared at him blankly for a moment.

“What?” You murmured. 

“The movie,” He said slowly, cocking his head at you in concern.

“Oh,” You just said weakly, nodding, pretending to be focused on the movie.

It was a horror, but your mind wasn’t on the movie, it was thinking about the Kingsnakes, about that black striped snake tattooed on Hoseok’s arm. You still remembered how it looked, Hoseok’s hands gripping your hips as he fucked you front behind. You could remember it vividly- the strain of your neck as you twisted around to watch him, the way he was staring at you, his eyes dark and intense. And that tattoo, curling around his arm, his hands gripping you as he fucked you.

Every time there was a jumpscare in the movie, you jumped, feeling your heart race. You had no idea what was going on in the film but you were so wrapped up in your own thoughts that you felt jumpy and on edge. Each time you jolted, Taehyung was gazing at you worriedly.

You jumped now, everyone in the room shrieked, your body reacted and you reached out, grabbing onto Tae’s arm. He put a hand comfortingly on your knee, looking down at you. “Scared?” He asked soothingly, you stared up at him. His face was close to yours but all you could hear was his question. It was an odd déjà vu, Hoseok’s voice the first time you met, his own question, ‘Scared?’ echoed in your brain. 

You stood up abruptly, mumbling something about needing the bathroom. You went straight there, feeling your head spin. 

You were confused, and getting worked up over nothing. He hadn’t contacted you, and it was driving you insane, even though you had no reason to be. You splashed water on your face, the coolness comforting you and slowing your messy thoughts. You sighed, staring at your reflection before you dabbed your towel on your face. You wanted to message Hoseok. You felt an itch within you to talk to him again. To see him again.

You walked out of the bathroom, seeing Taehyung leaning against the wall nearby casually. You smiled at him. 

“Are you okay?” He asked, you leaned on the wall beside him. You knew things had shifted between the two of you recently, the dynamic had changed somewhat but you still trusted him and he was still a friend.

“Yeah,” You said slowly. “I’m just confused.”

He raised an eyebrow at you. “About?”

You hesitated. You couldn’t exactly tell Tae that you were confused because the guy whose last name you didn’t know but you fucked hadn’t texted you, and that guy was also a member of the city’s most dangerous gang.

“Um,” You said instead, tentatively. “Long story.”

Tae nodded slowly. “Cool.” You smiled a little, one thing you had always liked about Tae was that he sensed when to drop things, he always had a good read of people and of you.

You thought to yourself that Tae was one of the best guys you’d ever met. He brought out a side of you that was like a softer version of yourself, sweeter. You wanted to be kind around him, someone he could be proud of. You were good around Tae, not snappy, not irritated. 

Hoseok on the other hand, seemed to bring out something entirely different in you. Something you didn’t fully recognize yet.

“Tae,” You began. “What… what’s your opinion on taking risks?”

You met his gaze, he looked at you as if he was trying to decipher your words.

“I think,” He began. “I think you’ve gotta outweigh the good and the bad. Figure out if it’s worth the risk. For me anyway…” His voice trailed off but you weren’t listening properly. You were thinking about Hoseok again. 

“…Anyway it’s funny that you mention it because um, I think we all are afraid of taking risks sometimes. I am. But some things are worth it, right?” He smiled earnestly at you. He had stepped closer to you, and you hesitated. 

“Yeah,” You said softly. “Hey, let’s head back?” You nodded over to the main room. Disappointment snuck across Taehyung’s face before he nodded, flashing one of his brilliant signature Tae smiles at you. 

“Of course.”

You returned to the couch, trying to focus on the movie ahead of you but thoughts raced through your mind. Taehyung was still sitting beside you, staring ahead. You knew the smart thing to do would be to finish this movie, to talk to Taehyung, have a quiet, sensible night in. 

But your body pulled for Hoseok, you were aching for him. Flashes of how it had felt, your palms against the drywall, his fingers digging into the flesh of your hips as he fucked you, had your mouth dry and your thighs squeezing together in anticipation.

God, you didn’t know what it was about him. Hoseok. You glanced over at Ara, she was transfixed on the movie. You frowned a little to yourself, you knew clearly that contacting Hoseok again would be a bad idea. 

He hadn’t so much as messaged you, he was bad news, there was nothing to be gained from messaging him. Just good sex, and you could find good sex somewhere else.

I’m bored. Your words from two weeks ago popped into your brain and you hesitated, stiffening. You didn’t want to return to that. Hoseok had awoken something inside of you, there was something dwelling within you that was stirring. Something unanswered. You felt alive, thinking about him, thinking about him being inside of you, touching you. 

I want something exciting.

You stood there, frozen for a moment, before you made your decision. You pulled out your phone, glancing down at it discreetly. No one around you noticed, they were all watching the movie. You pulled up Hoseok’s number, the string of unfamiliar digits and empty communication, as you typed out the message.

Y/N: What are you doing tonight?