#you could have been so much yet you chose to be nothing instead

[sanarsi]

Flying days and nights

ex-boyfriend!Dieter Bravo x f!Reader

Summary: You and Dieter broke up because of his addiction. Despite that, he's going to do anything to have you in his arms again. Warnings: pure angst (but with happy ending), reading offensive comments, self-hatred, mention of drugs, addiction, drunk!Dieter, toxic relationship, mention of suicide, emotional instability!reader, mention of rehab, sub!soft!Dieter Wordcount: 5,4k An: This is pure angst because I've been feeling like shit lately and I wanted to lash out :) Enjoy reading now or later when you're in the mood for some sadness xx Music I worked with: Nothing’s Gonna Hurt You Baby - Cigarettes After Sex

Masterlist

Everyone already knew.

You and Dieter broke up.

It shouldn't have surprised you, because you knew who your ex-boyfriend was, and yet, you were shocked by how many things had appeared about you on the internet in such a short time. It had only been two weeks, how on earth had everyone found out about it?

Stupid question.

You knew the answer very well.

You were furious. At yourself, at him, at the whole fucking world that judged you even though it didn't understand. You had been through hell for the last few months of your relationship, and now you were going through another because you had become the villain in this whole story.

You didn't know why you were doing it.

Maybe to finish yourself off? Maybe so you could be even more furious at him.

But you were fully aware that you were sitting through another evening with wine, reading more nonsense about your relationship.

"I would never leave him."

Oh, you're sure they would not. His fans had an unhealthy obsession with him.

"Everyone knows that Dieter has been taking drugs for a long time, so she definitely knew what she was getting into."

Of course you knew, despite what the whole situation was about, that's how you two met. At one of the parties. He snorted coke off your stomach and then proposed to you to marry him. Romantic and that's what he was like from the start. Sweet, a little naive and so damn in love with you.

An unwanted smile spread across your lips at the memory.

"Stupid bitch. Instead of helping him, she chose to leave him. Have y’all seen recent pictures of him? He looks like he hasn't slept in weeks."

You saw it. How could you not?

He looked like a wreck.

Shame that people only saw it now and not a few months ago when it all started like you did. Everyone had a lot to say about how awful you were for not wanting to help him with his addiction. But how long can you beg someone to go to rehab only to get a contemptuous look and have them swallow a few more pills right in front of you?

Yeah, that's what you've been going through day in and day out for months.

But who would know that?

"Dieter, I would treat you better than her."

You snorted dryly and took another sip of wine.

"Of course you would," you said sarcastically under your breath and locked your phone before throwing it on the table. You felt so fucking empty, and your rage was the only thing that kept you from going crazy.

Life suddenly became too calm.

This whole toxic world had sucked you in too much for you to be able to snap out of it just like that. You felt downright uncomfortable, being in silence, alone with your thoughts. You were very aware of what you were going through in that relationship, and yet, you missed him.

It was stupid because you left on your own, you decided to leave him because you were sick of him, you were tired. No, tired is the wrong word, you were exhausted.

Constantly fighting with someone you love is the hardest fight and no one blamed you for having had enough of it. All your friends showed you support, understanding. Hell, even his mother said you were too good for him, that you deserved better.

So why, despite all the bad that was happening, there were only good moments in your memory? Moments that made you start to miss him.

His laughter, movie nights together, the next time you cried while playing ‘The Last of Us’.

That's why you felt like shit and deliberately beat yourself up by reading random comments. You wanted to be bad, you really did, but only because the old Dieter was still alive in your head. Your Dieter.

Your crazy Dieter, who could scream in the middle of the street how lucky he was to have you.

Your lovely Dieter, who took you to every gala and meeting, bragging that he had the most beautiful girl in the world.

Your sweet Dieter, who loved to cuddle you because ‘you are so soft’.

Your fucked up Dieter, who dressed up as Cupid for Halloween and shot you in the ass to spend the whole night in the hospital with you.

You hated him.

You hated him for what he had done to himself, for putting drugs above what you two had; and what you had was so fucking special. You hated him for loving him so fucking much. It hurt the most when you realized he didn't love you half as much as you loved him.

You cursed him and those damn drugs that had taken your sweet Dieter and replaced him with a vile son of a bitch who would call you the worst names while you flushed his stash of cocaine down the toilet.

You shivered at the bad memories and finished the rest of your wine. You didn't want to think about it anymore, your therapist told you to calm down for at least an hour before going to bed, and surprisingly, he was right.

You put down the glass the same moment your phone started ringing. You looked at the screen with a smiling photo of your ex and all your insides twisted painfully. Cold sweat poured over your body as you stared at the screen as if frozen. You didn't know what to expect.

Why would he call you?

He was probably stoned and barely conscious. It's possible that he even forgot that you broke up.

The flood of thoughts kept you from answering, which disappeared the moment when screen displayed a message about a missed call. You swallowed hard, finally noticing how fast your heart was pounding. Despite the alcohol in your blood, the feeling of panic only grew.

Even though your phone had long since gone black, you continued to stare at it. He hadn't spoken to you in two weeks, so why did he do it now?

Had he run out of drugs? Did he want to apologize? Did he want to call you names? Maybe he wanted to ask if you were back to your senses and wanted to come back to him? He would have welcomed you with open arms to his apartment, which was probably in ruins now. He was just doing drugs and you were cleaning. Since when were you gone? All that was left was him with his shit.

The screen lit up again with a new notification. You sharpened your gaze, reading the text of the message.

Dieter: Please, can we talk?

You stared at the jumble of words, unable to think about anything. He was sober, that much you could deduce from the fact that he didn't make a single mistake and used punctuation marks.

He wanted to talk and he was sober.

It sounded pretty impossible, so out of pure curiosity you decided to reply.

You: Still on drugs?

Three dots appeared in the corner so you patiently waited for his response.

Dieter: Baby…

Dieter: Just please, hear me out

An uncontrollable snort escaped your lips. Of course, what else could you expect?

You: Then we have nothing to talk about.

You angrily threw your phone on the table when it started ringing again and just went to take a shower.

When you went to bed, your phone already had a few missed calls and a dozen messages. You held back your curiosity and simply closed your eyes, wanting to fall asleep as quickly as possible. Forget about the fact that he wanted to contact you and wake up in the morning knowing that peace still reigns in your life.

Knowing your luck, you barely managed to drift off to dreamland and the persistent banging on the door, perfidiously brought you back to the real world.

With a loud growl, you looked at your watch and groaned agonizingly when you saw that it was well after midnight. Who in their right mind would decide to knock on your door at such an abnormal hour? You wanted to ignore it, telling yourself that it was probably a mistake, but the knocking did not stop and instead turned into an annoying tapping rhythm.

Barely able to see anything in the darkness, you headed towards the front door. You turned on the light in the hallway, wincing at the glaring brightness, and looked through the peephole in the door. The staircase was dark, yet the quiet knocking did not stop.

A feeling of anxiety went through your body, waking you up a bit from your sleep. You didn't want to spread unnecessary panic, but you immediately thought about calling one of your friends to come and check what was going on.

You would have done it if you hadn't been stopped by a quiet voice calling your name.

Without thinking too much, you opened the door and left the apartment. The first thing you did was look towards the floor, where you always found him. As usual, you were right, he was sitting against the wall with a misty gaze and a half-empty bottle of whiskey. You'd be lying if you said you were surprised at the state in which he came to you. Honestly, you were more surprised that he managed to come to you at all.

"Dieter, what the fuck?" you snapped, seeing the state he was in. Messy hair, dark circles under his eyes, slightly sunken cheeks and a wrinkled shirt with poorly buttoned buttons. Still, one of the better forms you'd seen him in recently.

His lost gaze fell on your angry face and for a moment he just looked at you as if he hadn't seen you in at least a few years. It was possible that two weeks on a constant high lasted that long for him.

“I called you,” he managed to choke out.

“Yeah, and I didn’t pick up.” Your sharp tone clearly upset him, so you sighed loudly, trying to control your nerves. “Dieter, what do you want?”

“I want to talk.”

“You’re drunk,” you announced, as if that would give him the answer to everything.

And it did.

“I know, but—”

“Come when you’re sober.”

You didn’t want to repeat this pointless dance again. There was no point in even trying to talk to him because he’d probably forget about everything within a few hours. You didn’t have the strength for that, especially in the middle of the night.

“Please, can I…” he began uncertainly, catching your attention. “Can I sleep here?” You immediately wanted to say no. You could have called a taxi, even waited for one of his friends to come pick him up, but then he added in a breaking voice, “I don’t want to be alone in that apartment again.”

You would be fooling yourself if you turned around then, closing the door in his face. You wouldn't be able to even sleep a wink, knowing that he was sitting by your door, drunk and with tears in eyes.

You were angry, you hated him and wanted to say many unpleasant things, but you were human, and he was important to you. And despite everything you went through, you felt sorry for him when you saw him in such a state, even though he brought it on himself.

You sighed loudly and rubbed your tired face, knowing that you were doing the wrong thing. "But first, go wash yourself," you barely said resignedly, and Dieter was already standing on his own. Gratitude lurked in his gaze as he smiled sadly at you.

Without a word, he pressed a bottle of alcohol into your hand and entered the apartment, immediately heading to the bathroom. You stood in the hallway for a moment, staring at the interior of your place, wondering what you were actually doing with your life.

Relationships like yours had no right to survive, at least not in the long run. You knew that, and yet you didn't want to face reality. You wanted everything to be like it used to be, when you were happy, in love. But what was the likelihood that your desires would come true whenever you wanted them to, he didn't.

Tightening your fingers around the bottle, you went back to your apartment and the first thing you did was pour the rest of the whiskey down the sink. You watched with satisfaction as the amber liquid disappeared down the drain while the shower water could be heard in the background.

The desire to sleep faded away with every minute you walked around the living room, preparing a blanket and a few pillows to make the sofa suitable for sleeping. You didn't even glance towards the bathroom as you walked past, heading to the bedroom.

You don't know what possessed you to leave the door ajar and only then lay down in bed, reaching for your phone. Since the situation was already what it was, you didn't see why you should hold back from reading his message.

Dieter: Baby, please

Dieter: I know you're mad at me, I don't blame you

Dieter: But it's been two weeks now

Dieter: I want to explain and apologize

Dieter: Can we, I don't know, meet up and talk?

Dieter: I don't expect anything from you, I just want to see you

Dieter: I really miss you.

With each message it was harder and harder to read. You had no idea if it was because of tiredness or what was happening now, but you were overcome with emotions that you didn't want to feel because they were the reason you were so damn exhausted lately.

The next messages were over two hours apart.

Dieter: Im so sorry

Dieter: For evrythin

Dieter: I know its all m fault

Dieter: I was horrible n I treated u even worse

Dieter: shouldnt be surprised that u left

Dieter: But goddamn I really miss u

Dieter: I am drunk n its so fuckin stupid but I even miss the fact that u would shout at me rn bout how irresponsible I am

Dieter: wish u were here.

Dieter: u probably sleepin by niw

Dieter: God

Dieter: I miss sleepin with u

Dieter: I hate bein alone in that fuckin bed

Dieter: Sheets still smells like u.

You felt your stomach tighten uncomfortably as you read each word. Unwanted tears welled up in your eyes so you quickly chased them away and only then did you notice the last message.

Dieter: I signed up for rehab. Im leavin on monday.

Your heart beat faster but you didn't know if it was because of the content of the message or because Dieter suddenly appeared in your doorway.

You looked in his direction not being able to tell if he was talking to you or not.

"You have everything in the living room," you said the most obvious thing that came to your mind.

You couldn't see him very well in the darkness but you knew that the silence between you was starting to drag on. You didn't want to hurry him or chase him away.

You actually didn't know what you wanted.

"I saw," he said quietly, uncertainly.

"So what do you want?" you asked more sharply than you intended but you weren't going to correct yourself, he should know that you were mad at him.

You are, or at least you were a moment ago, until you read that damn message. You wanted to believe it was true but it was more likely that it was drunken babble so you didn't get your hopes up.

"Can I sleep here?"

You frowned when the screen turned off by itself so you could see him better. He was wearing boxers and a t-shirt with some character from the game. Of course you didn't get rid of his stuff, you simply couldn't.

"I already said—"

"I mean here, with you."

You fell silent for a moment.

Did he really have the nerve to show up at your door in the middle of the night, ask to stay and now force himself into your bed? Of course he did, it was Dieter.

“No,” you answered seriously.

“Please.” He didn’t give up and despite your words, he entered, closing the door behind him.

You tensed as you watched him slowly approach the bed. “I said no, now get out.”

“You know I hate sleeping alone.”

“Sounds like not my problem.”

Your sharp tone didn't stop him from lifting the sheet and sliding in next to you. The bastard had known you too long not to know that beneath that mask of rage was just a little girl. A little girl that he had hurt and wanted to make amends.

“Dieter…” you said warningly.

“Please, just for today.” You clenched your jaw tighter, trying to stop yourself from telling him what a selfish asshole he was. You were too tired to start an argument that would lead to nothing good. “I won’t touch you.”

“You better not.”

With those words, you simply turned your back to him and pulled the sheet closer over you, as if it would protect you from feeling his presence. Despite the raging and conflicting emotions inside you, you forced yourself to close your eyes. Your attitude made it clear to him not to talk anymore and to just go to sleep. And you were honestly grateful that he was holding on to the other half of the bed.

But despite the minutes maybe even hours passing by, you realized how much his messages were bothering you.

What if they weren't just drunk words or an attempt to extort attention. What if he really decided to start treatment?

You couldn't believe it.

Because how on earth did you not manage to talk him into it, but breaking up with him did the trick? After the way he treated you, you were supposed to believe that he suddenly missed you? That he wanted you back? Bullshit.

„I’m sorry.” His quiet words pierced the space between you.

You listened but didn't intend to speak. Still, he knew you weren't sleeping, if you were, you'd probably be cuddling up to him by now. It was in your nature to like to cuddle up to his side, wrapping leg around his waist and hide face in the crook of his neck.

So you could deceive yourself but not him.

"I fucked up," he continued despite your silence. "I don't know how to explain myself because I don't know what was on my mind at the time. I just wanted more and more."

Sadness settled in your heart.

So much bad had happened and in return you got such damn poor words.

"And suddenly I woke up in the middle of the night all alone."

You didn't want to hear it.

You didn't want his words to have any effect on you, but you couldn't stop pinching your nose from holding back tears.

"At first I wondered where were you. Maybe if it’s me who forgot that you went to some friend, or maybe you were sitting in the living room late reading another romance." You almost let a small smile creep onto your lips. "And only after a moment did I realize that two days earlier you left the apartment saying that you wouldn't witness my suicide."

Just thinking about that day, something inside you broke again.

You had shed way too many tears that night.

"I didn't realize the meaning of your words at the time. But then it hit me. Hard."

Well, it was good that he understood at all what you were talking about considering the state he was in at the time.

"You had been fighting with me for months. You were with me despite the state I could sometimes get myself into, how I could treat you even though you only wanted to help me. And for that I want to apologize and thank you. If it weren't for you, I would wake up in my own vomit every other day."

These were the things you tried to forget about. Life with him had turned into a living hell.

Looking at it from where you were, you wondered how on earth you had managed to survive so many months living like a private nurse.

Sometimes you wonder if it was still love or a desperate attempt to save someone you once loved.

"I haven't been able to take anything since then." Those words surprised you enough to make you shiver uncomfortably.

He hadn't taken anything in almost two weeks? It was hard to believe after the state he was in when he visited you today.

And as if he was reading your mind, he continued, "I decided to clean up the mess I made before I could even try to look you in the eye. And—" his voice broke. You resisted the urge to comfort him. “And it took me longer than I thought.” You heard him swallow hard, trying to control the tremor in his voice.

You didn't even want to remember affairs that you took care of for him during his drug streak.

From an ordinary girl you became an actor's girlfriend, his lover, best friend, then manager and then executioner and nurse.

Life had a way of surprising, but you never thought it would be to such an extent that you wouldn't recognize your reflection in the mirror.

"And today I finally got to see you, but you didn't want to," he said sadly. You barely held back a snort. "I'm not surprised, but I still hoped you'd at least want to hear my apology."

Maybe you wanted that, but not when you were still a mess and wanted to see him on his knees, begging for forgiveness. You didn't want to talk to him while still under the power of negative emotions.

You were a fan of resolving issues through calm conversation. And you were doing just fine until you met him and your arguments could be heard by your neighbors a few floors down.

"I took it a little hard," he admitted, embarrassed. "Being sober and under constant stress, and without you, was fuckin’ hard."

You could hear in his tone how tired he was of it all. But for him it had only been two weeks. For you? A little longer.

You felt sorry for him, you really did. But you also felt sorry for yourself.

You put him first for so long that you forgot that you are also a human being, that you have feelings and needs, that you also have the right not to be strong.

"And after everything, you didn't even want to talk to me. It's just," he sighed heavily, "it kind of killed me. So I'm sincerely sorry for showing up at your door in the middle of the night, but I couldn't stand being alone in that apartment."

Well, the only silver lining, if you could call it that, is that the last two weeks haven't just been tough for you.

You had been together for so long that suddenly being alone felt strange, alien.

And maybe it shouldn't, but you took comfort in the fact that he missed your presence too. As stupid as that might sound after what had happened.

The silence on his part began to drag on and you didn't know if he was thinking about his next words or waiting for any reaction from you.

His heavy sigh convinced you that he was waiting for your words that never came.

"I don't know if I've ruined everything to the point where my words mean nothing to you and you'd love to throw me out the door, but I want you to know that I'm truly sorry for what I've allowed myself to become. That it was more important for me to snort coke right after waking up than to tell you that I love you while eatin’ you."

At those words, something dangerously boiled in your lower abdomen.

You didn't want his words to have that effect on you, but your body knew better, feeling the hunger for his touch.

You couldn't kill the feeling of longing that grew with every word he spoke.

You were weak.

For him.

Because of him.

You didn't know the difference.

“And even if it doesn’t change anything, I wanted you to know that I’ve checked myself into a three-month rehab.”

You stared blankly into the dark space, trying to catch the slightest sign of whether or not he was lying. Surprisingly, he sounded serious, even a little scared at the thought of what he was talking about.

Another prolonged silence almost convinced you to answer him. Almost.

"And I’ll understand if you say no, but I would like to know if maybe you want to visit me sometime," he said hopefully. The feeling of sadness only grew in your chest. "The resort is in Switzerland, that's why—"

"Where?!" You opened your eyes wide and sat up in surprise, turning towards him.

Dieter was slightly shocked that you decided to speak, so for the first few seconds he just looked at you with his mouth parted.

"In S-Switzerland," he repeated uncertainly.

“Are you fuckin’ kidding me? I have to fly to Switzerland several times a month just to talk to you for like… probably half an hour? Do you know how much it will cost?” You frowned, hoping that this was some kind of bad joke.

This wasn’t the reaction he was expecting. Honestly, he wasn’t even sure what he was expecting. Seeing your face, he realized that he had probably assessed the situation a bit too optimistically.

“But we’re rich. I don’t see—”

“You are rich, Dieter,” you corrected him sharply, “not me.”

Your words hit him harder than either of you could have anticipated.

He blinked a few times, staring at you as if he was seeing you for the first time in his life. He didn't want to admit it, but he didn't expect things between you to be in such a bad shape.

"Baby, I know things aren't great between us," he began, also sitting down. Slowly as if the slightest overly aggressive movement could scare you away. “But nothing has changed on my end. I love you and I want to fix everything,” he said confidently. “Or at least have a chance to fix it.”

“I fucking hate you, did you know that?” you said with audible sadness that made him look down.

Now that he was sober and could see what he had gotten you into, the guilt was eating him up inside. He hated it when you were mad at him, and even more so when you looked at him with such hurt eyes. It made him feel like the worst bastard in the world.

“I figured it out when you left me,” he whispered.

The sadness in your chest turned to sorrow as it became harder to hold back the tears with each passing second.

You weren't ready for this conversation, but would you ever be? Was it even possible to be prepared for something like this?

“I know it’s fuckin’ selfish of me,” he began, sighing heavily as he gathered enough courage to look you in the eye. “But I want to know if you’ll at least wait for me.”

He was serious, you could see it in his eyes. He really wanted you to stay with him.

He had the courage to ask you to stay with him, to wait.

You stared at him without a word, but this time he patiently waited for your answer. He was sure that he would succeed. He wanted to get better, for you, for himself. He was determined to get back the life he had. Because he was damn lucky to have you in his life and he only realized it when he woke up without you cuddled to his chest. He woke up way too late but he couldn't turn back time, he could only fix the present and take care of the future.

He wanted so bad for you to give him a second chance and you wanted to give him one. You weren't able to cross him out of your life. He was one of the most important people in your life. There was even a moment when you realized that you wanted to spend the rest of it with him. But things got fucked up quickly.

The worst part of it all was that even if something like this happened again, you would be willing to forgive him. And you were afraid that it could be your undoing.

“Of course I'll wait for you,” you said, losing all strength to fight.

Dieter looked at you for a moment as if he couldn't believe that such words could come out of your mouth. He looked as if he was speechless and unable to process the information correctly and if it weren't for the context of the situation, you would have laughed. Instead, to convince him of your words, you smiled crookedly and shrugged. It was as if it woke him up from hypnosis, he blinked a few times and snorted in disbelief.

“Really?” he asked hopefully.

You shrugged again and let a soft smile permanently grace your face. Thanks to him, you realized that love could be pretty messed up.

“Well, a few years ago, I was shot by cupid and I think his magic is still working,” you said seriously, and his face was priceless when he realized what you were talking about.

“Well…” he started to say but instead burst out laughing. “Yeah,” he nodded, shaking his head in amusement. Just a silly sentence was enough to make his eyes sparkle again, something you hadn’t seen in a long time. “I missed you.” He smiled shyly and you knew he was still testing the waters.

"I know."

"Don't say it back, huh?" he asked with a smirk, even though he knew the answer and wasn't going to force you to do anything.

"You didn't deserve it."

Despite this, your gaze was still full of warmth, but he knew that to get back what you had, he would have to try really hard.

"Fair enough," he nodded, not wanting to argue because he knew it was true. He didn't even know how he deserved you. “Can we cuddle now?”

You had to admit you wondered how long it would be before he asked that question. The little boy inside him was just waiting for you to give him a sign that he could touch you, so when you barely reached out your hand towards him, he pulled you to him in a second.

You moaned as your lips crashed painfully together. You couldn't fight his longing kisses because, damn, you missed it yourself. You placed your hands on his cheeks and allowed yourself to slow down a bit. He didn’t object, he never did. He just luxuriated in your soft lips and delicate tongue, and it wasn't until he could melt under your touch that he realized how much he missed you.

“Don't ever do this to me again,” you whispered against his lips.

“I won’t,” he gasped, stroking your back. “I promise.”

Tags some babes who might enjoy @bbyanarchist @axshadows @lover-of-books-and-tea @jhiddles03 @tobethlehem

[ganondoodle]

seeing a speedrun of botw all dungeons and even like that .... its so strange how soulless totk feels to me when botw didnt, allthough it feels much flatter to me now since i know there wasnt any thought put into the things i thought were meaningful and that it will go nowhere in the end

and yet still it feels like its got soul that totk just hasnt; botw is far from perfect, like everything really, but totk to me really feels like a clunky grind game with no trust in the player at all, be it puzzles or 'story', and a fundamental missunderstanding of why botws world design and structure worked well as a whole in the end

i honestly still cant quite understand how on earth botw got totk as its 'sequel', all the things that needed work in botw where neglected or made worse totk while it also failed to follow up on literally anything in a meaningful way- when i still think the changes it needed where so OBVIOUS and the directions to follow up and expand on things to enhance not just the sequel but also botw in retrospect where so plenty and ready for the taking, it hurts me still even to think about it not being done and everything really being actively thrown away for NOTHING or things that make it AND botw WORSE in retrospect instead

i wont ever be able to forgive that, and some part of me hopes that this is the worst that they will ever do so at least we will get better games again in the future

[stackslip]

feeling batshit insane over makima and the few glimpses we see of her being sincere and vulnerable and longing for any kind of intimate company, coupled with the little we see of the government officials who had her raised and forged into a tool and who even now after having made her into a lonely god keep shaping her worldview of seeing other sentient beings as dogs that she cannot connect to in any way. give me a few hours i have to go home but this is driving me uo the fucking wall she's like reze she's like denji she too was purposefully alienated from others and cut off from any chance of growth or love because what use would she have had if she were ever allowed to connect with anyone. they gave her all material comfort and purposefully severed her ability to forge bonds to make her a more effective weapon and instead what they got was a deity beyond anybody's reach who is willing to burn down the world in order to alleviate her loneliness even a little. fuck!!!

[sonicboomseason3]

a brief recap of what has been going on with the sonic movieverse in the past several months:

paramount has come out in public support of israel

keanu reeves, a man who has publicly rubbed elbows with none other than benjamin netanyahu, reportedly gets cast as shadow for the upcoming third movie

james marsden, the guy who plays tom, got exposed as having written a letter of support for a convicted pedophile

there's fucking??? zionist propaganda in the knuckles series???

kind of connected to the last point but adam pally, the guy who plays wade, is evidently pro-israel too

this is a complete and utter joke.

EDIT AS OF 4/30/24: if people see this version of the post, i'd really appreciate it if you reblog it instead of the other versions, as it's the most updated one with all the information that i want included. thank you :]

you know, it's been a few days since i've made this post, and some of you (not most) are staying determined in defending/justifying/giving the benefit of the doubt to keanu for that photo with netanyahu, whether it's because "it was a decade ago," "him being civil to someone he ran into at a party one time doesn't mean anything," "he's probably just silent because his pr managers won't allow him to speak up," etc. i've made my thoughts on the matter quite clear by directly responding to these people, but at this point, i'm tired of both seeing them in my notes and repeating myself, so take this as my final word on the issue.

i can't help it if you don't think the photo with netanyahu is damning, and i'm done engaging with everyone going out of their way to tell me that. i obviously disagree, especially after finding out that 1. the host of the party, arnon milchan, is a former israeli spy who has a history of developing israel's nuclear program and promoting apartheid in south africa (information that had broken out a few months prior to the party and thus would've been fresh news around the time keanu chose to attend) and 2. keanu has been caught hanging around at least two other weirdos, but if you don't find any of that to be cause for reasonable concern, then there really is nothing else i can say afaik.

with all that said, i'm beginning to realize how strange it is that these people's first instinct when seeing this post is to start debating about keanu's political stances without ever acknowledging any of the other bullet points. you guys realize that this isn't just about him, right? i know tumblr reading comprehension is known for being piss-poor, but like… you realize that i was trying to make a point of how there are MULTIPLE terrible things that have broken out about the people and company involved in the sonic movies, right? and yet, a lot of the people leaping to speak on keanu's behalf in my notes are completely ignoring the parts where i bring up paramount, pally, etc. all in favor of zeroing in on the singular point about keanu and making bad faith assumptions about me for holding him accountable. really makes one wonder where your priorities lie if, in a post that talks about so many other things, me accusing an a-list celebrity with, according to google, a net worth of almost $400 million is where you draw the line and apparently the only thing worth your acknowledgment.

ultimately, what i'm trying to say is that the intention of this post was just to gather up everything that i had been hearing for the past several months and put it all together in one place. there were a bunch of people who didn't know about at least one of the bullet points before seeing this post, and i'm glad that i could help inform them, that was what i was hoping to do! but as for the keanu thing, i've said pretty much all i can say for now, and i don't want to derail the original post even more than i may have already. unless something new comes up, i'm done talking about him.

[augiewrites]

"valley reverie" - sebastian

summary: the timeline of sebastian and the farmer’s relationship based on canon dialogue

pairing: sdv sebastian x farmer

word count: 2.5K

a/n: this may be my magnum opus

The sun was beginning its descent behind the mountains when Sebastian emerged from the house for the first—and only—time that day.

He shot a glance to his mother and Demetrius, who were standing at the edge of their property, looking over the valley bathed in golden light. His mother sent a small smile back, followed by a pointed disappointed look at the carton of cigarettes held loosely in his glance. Demetruis didn’t acknowledge his existence.

Sebastian knew it was a nasty habit, but he spent most of his life with not much thought to the future—he was surprised he made it this far. Maybe his life would have been different if he had planned better; if he had considered for a moment that there was such a thing as life past sixteen, then eighteen, then twenty-one. He supposed he should start to consider a life past twenty-four, but quickly dropped the thought as he placed the cigarette between his lips and continued his stroll to the lake.

He saw it then, as his lighter sparked to life and helped the cigarette take eleven minutes off his.

Someone was sitting in his spot. A humanoid blob of denim focused intently on the bobber floating in the water.

He hesitated, then decided to keep moving—his trajectory now locked in past the stranger and across the rickety planks of wood to the smaller islands in the middle of the lake. His mother had been saying for years that she needed to build something more structurally sound, but had yet to get around to it.

As he got closer, he took in more of the scene. There was a muddy bucket next to the stranger, and he noticed a couple slimy carp flopping around inside. Whoever this was, they clearly didn’t have enough experience to catch the tricker creatures in the lake.

Just as he was about to slip past toward solitude, he locked eyes with the stranger. Their bored expression quickly turned to worry.

“Sorry, am I in your spot? Robin said it was okay for me to fish here.”

Recognition sparked in his brain—his mother had told him about the new resident of Pelican Town. The words she had used to describe them flashed behind his eyes: sweet, a little lost, cute. That last one was sent his way with an exaggerated wink and met with a scoff from him.

“Oh. You just moved in, right? Cool.”

The farmer didn’t respond, just looked on waiting for an answer to their question. Sebastian didn’t gratify them with a response, instead looking across the lake at the tree line and abandoned quarry.

“Out of all the places you could live, you chose Pelican Town?”

The farmer scrunched up their mouth slightly, beginning to reel in their line. There was nothing but a limp worm dangling from the hook. Sebastian took note of the grieving look flashing on their face before it was gone in a blink.

“Better than where I was.”

Sebastian didn’t bother responding as the farmer heaved up the bucket—they were a lot stronger than they looked—and walked away without another word.

Robin smiled at the farmer with a wave and shouted goodnight before sending another disapproving look to her son.

_________________________________________

Sebastian heaved open the door of the house, exhausted from band practice. Sam was his best friend, and he enjoyed spending time with him more than he would admit, but the newest addition to the band was definitely a hindrance.

He didn’t dislike Abigail, and he couldn’t deny that she was a talented drummer, but he had been hoping for years that her little crush on him would fade away. He could only take so much of puppy dog eyes and over exaggerated laughter at his quips that definitely aren’t that funny.

He was so absorbed in his thoughts on how to shake off the purple-haired girl—more importantly, how to shake her off without actual confrontation—that he didn’t notice the farmer leaning against the shop counter until their voice pierced through. His mother was nowhere to be seen, so they had to have been talking to him.

“What? I didn't hear you...I'm busy thinking about something. What do you want?”

The farmer narrowed their eyes at him, leveling him with a glare. “You know, I get that you’d rather be listening to My Chemical Romance and jerking off to Nietzsche than interacting with a human being, but you really need to work on your people skills.”

Well, he hadn’t been expecting that.

He expected avoidance from the farmer, based on their first meeting and subsequent run-ins where they gave him a nod of acknowledgement before going back to acting like he didn’t exist.

He realized that the farmer wasn’t as timid and one-dimensional as he let himself think.

The moment was saved by Robin entering the shop room and dropping a workbench on the floor with a heavy thud. “You’ll make better use of this than I have lately—it’s pretty old,” she looked up from the dusty bench, noticing her son frozen in the doorway, “oh, hi Sebby.”

“Sebby?” the farmer questioned with a smirk.

Sebastian rolled his eyes, brushing past his mother to get to his lair.

“Sorry about him,” he heard his mother as he descended the stairs.

“It’s fine,” the farmer laughed, “he’s cool.”

He couldn’t help the smile pulling at the corners of his mouth. _________________________________________

Sebastian looked down at the frozen tear in his hand with a neutral expression on his face, though his heart was quickening its pace.

“Gunther told me it’s fabled to be the frozen tears of a yeti.”

He met the farmer’s grin with one of his own, “I really love this. How did you know?”

They shrugged, “Seemed like some emo shit you’d be into.”

A breathy laugh escaped him before he could stop it. “Well…thanks.”

“No prob. I’ll keep an eye out for more when I’m in the mines.”

“The mines?,” his brow furrowed, “how far down did you go?”

“Not super deep, I think I stopped at sixty since it was getting late.”

Sebastian gaped at the farmer—who he now realized he really misjudged—as they shouldered their backpack and turned toward the door.

“Oh,” they stopped just shy of the threshold, “your code is wrong, by the way. Third line down.”

He looked to the screen, baffled, seeing that there was, in fact, a mistake in his code.

He began to ask the farmer how they knew that, but they were gone. _________________________________________

The sun was setting on the valley, and Sebastian found himself sitting by the lake’s edge with the farmer, who was reeling in sturgeon and bass with ease.

“I’m sure the city’s different for other people, but it was corporate hell for me,” the farmer spoke softly as they baited their hook—it was different than any bait he had ever seen, and the farmer had informed him that the wild man living behind their house had taught them the recipe.

Sebastian hummed, “I guess that makes sense.”

“You guess?” the farmer teased him, flicking water at his face.

He blew a puff of smoke in their face.

The farmer coughed, then began to laugh as they fanned the smoke out of their face, “asshole.”

Sebastian grinned, leaning back on the palms of his hands and gazing across the water.

They sat in comfortable silence as the farmer cast out their line and half-heartedly focused on the bobber—they didn’t really need it anymore, but liked the safety net.

“You and Sam are probably my only friends in this town.” Sebastian broke the silence, but continued looking straight ahead.

“Well I am very likable.”

Sebastian knocked their shoulders together with a scoff.

“Sure, keep telling yourself that.” _________________________________________

Sebastian was indifferent—and sometimes loathful—toward most events held in their little town, but tonight was an exception. It was hard to not be in awe of the midnight jellies, and he was excited for the farmer to see them for the first time.

They were perched at the edge of the dock, along with Sam and Abigail, their feet dangling inches above the water.

It was a lot colder than expected, and the farmer was bundled in his black jacket. He couldn’t help but feel bad about the sad glances Abigail was sending their way.

The farmer looked content, and Sebastian recalled something they told him at the beginning of the season—the used to be terrified of the ocean before moving to the valley.

He nudged their shoulder with his own. It didn’t take much effort—they were sitting a lot closer than he realized. A light blush dusted his cheekbones.

“I thought I saw something moving in there…” he pointed to the void of the ocean and leaned closer to their ear, whispering, “something big, something dark.”

The farmer’s eyes widened as they looked across the vast darkness before they narrowed and turned to him.

“Just trying to scare you...” Sebastian laughed.

The farmer smiled, knocking their knee against his, muttering an all too familiar “asshole.”

It wasn’t too long before Lewis sent out the first lantern, and the water surrounding the docks was filled with glowing jellyfish.

“It’s beautiful,” the farmer breathed out as their head landed on his shoulder.

“Yeah,” his eyes landed on a glowing green jelly before looking down at the farmer, “it is.” _________________________________________

Sebastian never saw the farm in its full glory—before the farmer’s grandfather grew old and passed away—but he had been there plenty of times when it was overgrown and abandoned.

He had told the farmer this as they sat on the newly installed swinging bench on their porch. They joked that they would be suing him for trespassing, since it was technically their property at the time, even if they hadn’t known it.

It was a chilly fall day, but the farmer had made a pot of coffee to keep them warm.

“I thought this was your busy season,” Sebastian lit up a cigarette and moved the ashtray closer to where he sat. It was a newer addition to the farmer’s decor. He thought about the prideful look on their face as they held it up and told him that Leah let them use her pottery wheel. It was painted with little creatures that looked like the much happier cousins of the slimes living in the caves.

The farmer hummed, holding their mug close to their face, but not taking a sip, “Yeah…a lot busier than I thought it would be, actually.”

He grinned at them, “so, you’re slacking today, huh?”

The farmer laughed.

“I’d rather hang out with your sorry ass than work.” Despite the insult, the farmer’s tone was soft and earnest. Sebastian felt his cheeks heat up.

“Could you picture me living on a farm? It seems ridiculous, but I have been thinking about it lately.”

“If I could do it, then so could you,” the farmer linked their pinky with his, “it’s a lot more freeing than you’d think.” _________________________________________

Boxes filled with Sebastian’s things lined the walls of the farmhouse, but Sebastian and the farmer lay in bed, choosing to ignore them. 

They had all the time in the world.

The farmer was twirling the pendant dangling from Sebastian’s neck, “there’s steam coming out of your ears, Seb,” the farmer giggled and smoothed out the wrinkle between his brows with their finger.

“I’ve just been thinking,” Sebastian turned his attention from the ceiling to the farmer, “The older I get, the less I'm drawn to the city. It had a certain mystique to it, once. But it turns out that was just a romantic fantasy. The city's so busy, so full of people... I don't belong there. I'm a loner.”

A beat.

“Present company excluded, of course.”

The farmer laughed, “Well I would hope so,” they tugged gently on the pendant, pulling him closer, “because you’re stuck with me.” _________________________________________

Sebastian and the farmer had joined his family for dinner, and his mother had shooed them away with one hand as she cooed at the bundle held tightly in her other arm.

The valley was coming to life, but the ghost of a winter chill was in the air. They settled down by the lake despite the cold. It was no longer his spot, but theirs.

The farmer was skipping stones across the lake when he grumbled about how being in that spot made him want a smoke.

“No one’s stopping you,” the farmer laughed.

“I am.”

The farmer still held a loose smile as they raised their eyebrows at him, “oh?”

“I'm trying my best to quit smoking now that we're married…” He avoided their gaze and brushed some mud on the palm of his hand onto his jeans, “I don't wanna die on you. It's a bad habit. I want to have a future together.”

A baby cried in the distance. Sebastian and the farmer smiled at each other. _________________________________________

The farmer was surprised to find Sebastian’s side of the bed empty when they woke up. It wasn’t a rare occasion, as they usually found Sebastian in the kitchen after a restless sleep, but he was nowhere to be found.

They couldn’t help but worry a little bit as they pulled on their boots and opened the screen door. They paused out of instinct to let the dog run out before them only to realize that the dog wasn’t hot on their heels like usual.

They had only gotten two steps onto the porch before a mass of fur and slobber crashed into their legs.

“Oh hello baby,” they cooed down at the dog as it rolled onto its back, breathing heavily out of excitement, “good morning stink.”

“Good morning to you too.”

The farmer was so caught up in giving the dog attention that they hadn’t noticed Sebastian leaning against the porch railing.

They straightened from their crouch, smiling at him as the dog whined from the loss of affection.

“I couldn’t fall back asleep, so I went ahead and fed the animals,” he pushed off the railing and took a few steps forward to fix a rogue piece of the farmer’s hair, “one less thing for you to do.”

“Thanks, Seb,” the farmer said softly, suddenly bashful, “I’m going to check on the pumpkins. Thought I could make some soup tonight if any of them are ripe.”

They took a few steps off the porch, “feel like being a country boy today? Or did you get your fix?”

He smiled, leaning his forearms against the railing, “I'll just watch you from here. I enjoy watching you.” _________________________________________

Sebastian and the farmer found themselves sitting on the porch swing once again. It was a mild summer evening, and he was looking on as a toddler played with the dog in the yard.

He tore his attention away from the rowdy scene in front of him to look at the farmer, who was curled up at his side reading a book. He felt his heart swell.

“This is so different from my old life, but I'm really starting to like it. I feel like I really belong here.”

The farmer looked up from the book in their lap, smiling.

“I don't often show it, but I'm really happy that I'm your husband. Marrying you was the best decision I ever made.”

[nisuna]

Mouth watering 🤤🤤 I'm really in the mood to turn this into a full-length fic, but my porn with plot stuff usually doesn't do that well, so here's some of my thoughts instead<3 Depending on if this does well or not I might do it! (But, tbh I might do it regardless because I love this idea and it's one of my top favourite scenarios to think about 👀👀 so who knows? Maybe some of you will find this interesting. Please lmk!)

[part 1 & part 2 of this AU]

TW: cult leader!Geto x non-sorcerer!f!reader, oral f&m receiving, period sex and oral, breeding kink, power imbalance, dumbification, public sex, mentions of pregnancy, different positions, name calling, degradation, mirror sex, virginity loss, manipulation

<3masterlist<3

--------------------18+ ONLY MDNI--------------------

cult leader!geto, who didn't pay much attention to you at first when you came to his shrine with the nasty little curse on your shoulder that's been plaguing you for the past few weeks. cl!geto who wanted to have as little to do with people like you and disposed of it with the snap of his fingers.

A weight was literally lifted off your shoulder as you smiled and reached out to grab his hands to thank him, bowing your head. Usually, he would've pulled his hands away and politely told you off not to touch him. But he allowed it this once. There was something about you he couldn't put his finger on just yet. Who would've thought that if he hadn't done that, it would've never come to this.

cl!geto, who noticed you coming back each week with a new complaint, immediately seeing right through your lies, but indulging you nonetheless. cl!geto, who grew increasingly interested in you, inviting you over to show you his organisation.

cl!geto, who made you suck his cock on the first occasion he got. you were so obediend and dumb. he got off on how naive and blinded you were by him, your lord and savior.

cl!geto, who was taken aback when you confessed you were still a virgin. cl!geto who made a religious ritual out of taking your virginity, manipulating and fucking you stupid from then on out.

cl!geto, who enjoyed you doing all the work while riding or squatting on his cock. cl!geto who fucked you mercilessly, saying it was for the greater good of the organisation. cl!geto, who started fucking and eating you out while you were on your period, saying you were his blood sacrifice. and who were you to deny your lord.

cl!geto, who started fucking you more vigurously himself. be it from behind or with him on top. any position that asserted dominance over you, he tried. and he made sure to let you know how much of a lowlife you were compared to him. and you just nodded, blinking up at him through your eyelashes as you sucked on his thick fingers.

"You're so good for me, pet. Keep going."

pet, he called you because that's all you were to him. you were his plaything, nothing more.

cl!geto whose huge hands would roam your body however they pleased. his long fingers working you open until you were ready to take him. cl!geto, who loved feeling your soft and tiny body against his massive frame. cl!geto who would relish in seeing his thick cock through your belly whenever he fucked you so deeply, you could almost feel his tip hit your cervix.

cl!geto who made a public display of fucking you in front of his followers. cl!geto who marked you up with purple marks for everyone to see. however, some didn't understand why he chose you of all people voicing their disapproval. cl!geto, who over time grew fond of a lowly human like you but kept denying his growing feelings for you.

cl!geto, who didn't think it would bother him as much as it did when someone else tried to touch you. his followers starting to see you as public property, which was meant to be shared. cl!geto who felt his blood boil when someone dared to kiss you in front of him, taunting him that he fell in love with a non-sorcerer, which only earned the person a slap across their face as he pulled you close.

"No, it can't be." he thought as the person laughed," Oh, so it is true!" cl!geto, who was shocked when you spoke up.

"Of course not, that couldn't be! Right, Geto-sama?" right, he couldn't fall for someone like you. you were the very thing he swore to destroy. this shouldn't have happened.

gl!geto who avoided kissing you and only saw sex as an act of service and obedience. cl!geto, whose eyes widened in shock when you accidentally leaned in, cradling his face in your hands when you got too overwhelmed with pleasure as he came deep inside.

when you snapped out of it, you were terrified. "I-I'm sorry. I didn't mean to. Geto-sama, please forgive me-"

as you were about to pull your hands away from his face, he stopped you. you were trembling in his grasp, expecting the worst. but you were surprised by him pressing his lips against yours and holding your hand in place on his cheek. the kiss was hungry, his tongue prying your mouth open and all you could do was moan and just take it.

"You surprised me for sure, pet. But let's continue, I quite liked it.", he mumbled.

as you were making out, you felt him harden inside of you again.

cl!geto, who thought "fuck it", abandoning his principles each time he crashed his lips against yours and made you cream on his cock over and over.

cl!geto, who got tired of hearing you moan "geto-sama" like all of his other followers and made you call him suguru whenever you two were alone.

"AH- Geto-sama"

"Try Suguru."

"Su- what? Geto-sama, I couldn't possibly, that's too-"

"Do it for me. I wish to hear you say it. But only in the bedroom, this is between you and me only.

"I-if you wish so, I will try. S-suguru..sama."

cl!geto, who soon deemed you worthy of carrying his offspring and telling you how big of an honour it was. cl!geto who filled you up over and over. and you taking it so well, always begging for more.

cl!geto who would fuck you in front of the mirror while groaning into your ear.

"Look at you, I can't wait until I can see you plump with my children."

cl!geto who didn't stop fucking you even throughout your pregnancy. cl!geto who got incredibly aroused at the sight of your body and belly plumpening up over time.

cl!geto, who massaged your aching breasts and hips religiously every night. cl!geto who stopped fucking you in front of everyone and stopped showing you off as he wanted to have you all to himself.

cl!geto, who began questioning his whole mission, when you first confessed your love for him. cl!geto, who soon gave in and said that he loved you as well for the first time.

"I'm a man of exceptional greed. If I had it my way, I would have you look and smile at me only."

cl!geto, who got incredibly protective over you. "Don't ever go anywhere without me."

"Where could I possibly want to go without you?", you mumbled, falling asleep in his arms.

cl!geto, who was overjoyed when he saw his child having your eyes and his features. cl!geto, who made his followers worship you just as much as they did him. cl!geto, who threatened and intimidated anyone who refused.

cl!geto, who made you his wife and mother of many more of his children.

cl!geto, who never stopped loving you until his final breath.

------

I'd love to hear your thoughts!!<3

[howcouldmuffin]

First Choice I

[ Chapter 1 : The Unchangeable Past ]

You’ve always known you weren’t his first choice. You’ve accepted being his second option, but you won’t wait in the wings forever.

PAIRING : Jacaerys Velaryon x Fem!Reader

WARNING : SFW, Targaryen Incest, Non-canon

CONTENTS : Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4

AN : Hello, this is a mini-series I’ve been wanting to write. At first, I intended to write it as a single chapter, but the plot in my head is too extensive, so I thought it might be better to split it up. Anyway, I hope you enjoy this piece of writing.

please be kind to me English is not my first language.

Being the second child isn’t easy, and if you’re a daughter, your importance within the family starts to diminish. You have to hide behind your older siblings, always being compared to them, whether it’s your older sister, brother, or even younger brother.

You know that you are often overlooked. No matter how hard you try to please your grandparents or parents, you can never measure up to your siblings. You have nothing to compete with them. All you have is your appearance, which your mother often describes as “beautiful but mindless.”

Hearing those words only deepens your hurt. You can never be the child or grandchild they want, and even your beauty becomes a sharp weapon slowly aimed at you. Every time you enter the hall at social gatherings, you sense their expectations. The unwanted attention and harassment you faced as a child made you reluctant to participate in social events and made you want to leave.

Once, you heard that Rhaenyra, your eldest sister, wanted to betroth her son Jacaerys to your sister Helaena. Your mother refused and instead betrothed Helaena to your eldest brother Aegon. Now, your father Viserys has offered a new arrangement: you will be betrothed instead. You are not the eldest daughter who needs to marry the eldest son like Helaena. You are not a son like Aemond or Daeron. You are being forced into this marriage, and you know that your nephew is also dissatisfied with it.

You don’t hate him, but rather it's him who seems to feel that way. Being close to Aemond in your childhood, though it made you a target of teasing, helped you understand him. Aegon was always skilled and clever in these matters, often taking your nephew on mischievous adventures. You tried to comfort your brother when he was being picked on, but he seemed indifferent to your words.

Yet, your own tragic feelings only pushed you further into despair. At every gathering, you watched your nephew intently. During every training session, your eyes were fixed on him. At every meal where jokes were shared, you always looked to see his reaction. You did this because no one ever paid attention to you while your relatives were nearby—like the moon waiting for the sun’s light.

And then, it reached its end. The event that caused both families to avoid each other. Aemond lost an eye and received a dragon. You knew your brother was the one who started the conflict, harming the children first, and he was no longer someone who tolerated much. You told him that now that he had a dragon, the largest one at that, he should stop nursing his grudges and focus on other things instead. Aemond didn’t respond; he merely gave a scornful smile and turned away from you.

This meant you never saw him again. Not even a single letter was exchanged. You could only listen to the servants in the castle recount stories about them. You dreamt of and wondered what he would be like. How would he react if he knew and realized that you were his betrothed? You eagerly awaited the chance to stand by his side, training yourself in every way for him, hoping that it might finally make a difference.

After waiting for many years, you are finally going to meet him, though not under the most pleasant of circumstances. At least you will meet the man who is meant to shape you into someone you have never been. You chose to wear a golden V-neck dress with sleeveless straps, with a few thin bands around your arms serving as sleeves. Your hair was simply braided and pinned back. You are filled with hope, though it could easily shatter.

As soon as you step into the grand hall, all eyes are on you. It is known that the youngest daughter prefers seclusion over socializing, and you hope this will make a good impression on the prince. Your eyes quickly search for him and you spot him talking with your cousin. You head in his direction, eagerly anticipating his approach. You can barely contain your excitement, and your smile is one of astonishment. Yet, you can sense that the look he gives you is far from friendly—it is the last thing you hoped for.

“Why are you so late?” your mother’s voice snaps you out of your reverie. “And where is your sister?” Alicent grips your arm, causing you pain, but you are used to it.

“I was just helping Helaena get the children dressed. She should be here soon.” you reply, and her grip loosens as her stern expression softens.

“It’s good you didn’t leave your sister in trouble.”

The judgment clearly favors your sister over Vaemon, but what makes your heart race is Rhaenys's announcement of a betrothal between her granddaughter and Rhaenyra's son. Your concern grows as you notice Jacaerys and Baela exchanging smiles that are unfamiliar and perhaps never meant for you.

After the verdict was delivered, you withdrew from the hall and retreated to your room immediately. It became clear that, despite the passage of time, he might never see you in a favorable light. You have no one to blame but yourself—although you never mocked him directly, you never stopped those who did. Perhaps it is only fitting that you face this now.

After lying awake for what felt like an eternity, your trusted maid entered your room to prepare you for dinner with the family. You had shed a few tears after leaving the hall, and your eyes were now slightly swollen.

“Your Highness.” the maid, Vidah, said as she entered, “Shall we get ready? The prince will appreciate you even more.”

“No need, Vidah.” you replied. “There’s no point in doing that. Let things unfold as they will.” You smiled at her and slowly rose from the bed. She must understand you by now. Vidah is the only one you can confide in—like a mother, a friend, and an older sister all in one. She is another family to you.

“It’s alright, Your Highness.” she said, guiding you to the vanity and helping you sit in front of it. “You have more beauty and grace than any woman in Westeros. One day, the prince will see this.”

You nodded, and she gently began to undo your braid, combing your hair slowly as if it were silk.

“I’ll make you the most desirable princess in the Seven Kingdoms.” she whispered. “Even in this dress, you remain beautiful. Don’t undervalue yourself.”

“Thank you, Vidah.” you said, finally managing a genuine smile.

You walked into the dining hall slowly, relieved to not be late but anxious that not all your siblings had arrived yet. You feared another reprimand, but Aegon’s presence helped ease your nerves. He told you amusing stories, and even though you knew they were embellished, they were still entertaining.

As more people entered the dining room, you found yourself constantly scanning for Jacaerys. When he did arrive, you saw him walking in with Baela, just as before. The feeling in your heart was as if it had dropped from the top of the castle. When Viserys entered, everyone showed respect to your father, and the meal began.

You noticed the prince’s gaze occasionally fixed on you—sometimes with surprise, sometimes with scrutiny, and sometimes just passing over you. You hadn’t spoken a word since the meal started. Aemond seemed indifferent, merely eating to finish, while Helaena was lost in her thoughts.

Aegon seemed to be trying to engage Jacaerys, but was unsuccessful. Jacaerys then stood and invited Helaena to dance, not you. You could only think that if your mother were less biased, they might have made a wonderful pair and ruled the realm superbly.

Though it was still early, it was late enough to use as an excuse to escape your relatives. Walking alone through the Red Keep at night was not unusual for you, as you were rarely noticed unless there was a festive event or a tournament.

You wandered for an indeterminate amount of time, wanting to continue aimlessly until you overheard a conversation.

“You cannot refuse to speak with her.”

“Do you think she wants to speak with me? Last time, she cried because her beloved brother lost an eye, and even though she saw the whole event, she ran away.”

“She went to get help.”

“And what happened? My brother is now targeted by my uncle.”

You didn’t listen further. You knew it would be as they said—if only you had stopped your brother back then, perhaps this wouldn’t have happened. You might truly be a walking disaster. Maybe you aren’t as valuable as everyone says.

Upon returning to your room, you found Vidah waiting for you. She would try to soothe you to sleep before going to bed herself or at least ensure you didn’t return to your room in tears as you did tonight. You hugged her and rested on her lap as you used to. She gently stroked your head and comforted you.

“If only I… if only I had told him to stop.” you sobbed. “Maybe it wouldn’t have happened.”

“If I had intervened, they… they might not be like this.” tears flowed down both sides of your face, staining Vidah's clothes and hair, making them damp.

“Oh, my princess.” she gently stroked your back. “Whatever is meant to happen will happen. If you had intervened, you might have been the one to lose an eye. You did well to get others to help.”

“I don’t know what Aemond thinks of his nephew now.” you sobbed. “I tried, Vidah, but is my effort still not enough?”

“My princess, you have tried enough. We cannot make things turn out as we wish. You know that.” she replied, then helped you lie down comfortably and stroked your head gently. “Sleep now. We have tomorrow to wake up to. You have done your best, my princess.”

You said nothing further and nodded to your trusted maid. You slowly closed your eyes, trying to stop your thoughts and rest as Vidah advised.

Once again, the family gathering has arrived, but this time it's just the children, staring at each other. Everyone is sitting in a large reception room. You occasionally glance at him; he seems very familiar with Baela.

“They surely didn’t call us just to stare at each other, did they?” Aegon asks.

“We're waiting here, and after they finish their discussion, we'll have dinner together.” Jacaerys replies. You can tell your older brother must have some plan he's about to execute.

“Well, they might be mistaken about our patience.” he says with a broad smile. “Come on, nephew. Let’s find something fun to do.”

It’s bound to be neither fun nor trouble-free. Aegon turns to invite Jace again, but he doesn’t react. He shrugs and walks out of the room, glancing back at you in confusion. Aemond, seeing this, turns to you and also exits the room.

“Jaehaerys, don’t be a nuisance.” your sister warns her son as she sees your father and uncle leaving. The boy approaches you, likely wanting you to play with him instead, and you don’t refuse.

“Who’s been a good boy today?” You pick him up and chat as you usually do. He’s much livelier than his sister, but Jaehaera causes less trouble.

“I am, and Haera.”

“What a lovely brother you are.” you touch his tiny nose, and he touches it back, laughing. It warms the atmosphere in the room. Children often heal your spirit on tired days; their smiles make you ready to protect them unconditionally.

“He has grown up well.” Baela comments. “He’ll grow into a fine young man.” She stands up and approaches you. You’re unsure how to react.

“He likes being held.” you respond. “Would you like to try holding him?” Baela looks at your sister, who nods in agreement, and she slowly takes the boy from you. You gently pat the child’s back and tell him it’s okay.

As expected, Jaehaerys makes Baela smile, and the boy tells her stories he thinks are amazing. You catch the eye of your fiancé, who is focused on her. Luke and Rhaena are chatting with your sister. Soon, you notice Jacaerys looking at you. You meet his gaze, and it’s a stare after many years of not seeing each other. He’s still the same as when you first met. He moves closer, and you feel a glimmer of hope that he might want to talk to you, but why would he?

He walks over to Baela, engaging in a conversation you feel hesitant to interrupt. It flows smoothly, and they seem quite familiar with each other. You smile at Helaena and slowly leave the room. When will you be brave enough? You walk to the grand corridor and stop at a large column, facing it, not crying but trying to gather your composure.

“Try if you can, sister.” a familiar voice says.

“Just leave me alone, Aemond.”

“You don’t seem like yourself.”

“I am myself.” you face him. “And what if that’s the case?”

“Don’t show your feelings so openly that you appear weak.”

“Isn’t that how you all see me anyway?”

“Who, then? Mother or Grandfather?”

“All of you.”

“Being able to do everything but excel at nothing isn’t so terrible, sister.” Aemond extends his arm toward you.

“Let’s go. We’ve probably been important enough already to be late.” You grasp his arm and walk with him to the dining room. Even though your brother seems tough, it’s strange how he understands your feelings the best.

Walking alone down the corridors of the Red Keep at night is probably not a new experience for you. Exploring every corner in a different light, spending as much time as possible with yourself, not wanting to hear complaints, scolding, or comparisons from your mother, and avoiding the condescending gazes of your siblings—especially his.

But tonight, you encounter him at the other end of the corridor. You pause and consider whether to continue walking or not. But your thoughts are far behind his movements. He notices you and remains as indifferent as ever, seeming to make you invisible in his eyes, which is impossible. You have to do something about this relationship.

“Your Highness.” you begin, and he nods in acknowledgment without a word.

“Is the prince unable to sleep?”

“I just wanted to take a walk.” he says, about to move away.

“I apologize, Your Highness.” you interrupt him. “I know it’s probably too late for this, but I truly feel that I was wrong. I’m sorry for not asking Aemond to stop, for not helping, for not fully explaining the situation to everyone, and for other actions. I never harbored any dislike or aversion towards you. I know it might be hard to believe, but I speak sincerely.”

He listens but doesn’t turn to look at you. He pauses briefly to make sure you have nothing more to say, then walks away, leaving you drowning in confusion. It seems that one word cannot mend what has already been hurt. It might be a scar that can never be healed.

You return to your room to find Vidah absent. You collapse onto your bed, staring up at the ceiling of your room—the ceiling you often gaze at while dreaming of various things. It’s like a canvas for your personal musings and expressions.

You don’t cry, but you feel a release from the feelings that have been suppressed within. You have said everything you needed to him. From now on, you must prove that your thoughts are sincere, not merely words of deceit, and hope that God will assist you in this matter.

If you’re not mistaken, your relationship with Jacaerys might only be one of good friends, as he may already have someone in his heart—Baela. You don’t deny that she is more suitable for him. She is the eldest daughter, with a stronger Targaryen bloodline, and is closer to him. You hold no anger or dislike towards her, but you do not want to be part of a romantic entanglement that would only cause you pain. You don’t want to because you have already endured enough suffering.

[azullumi]

trying different types of kissing with scaramouche?💔 like forehead, neck kisses, hand or anything at all....

“say yes to heaven” ; wanderer/scaramouche

summary — ultimately, he really does just want to be loved, behind the many layers of him to hide all that yearning and longing. but how can he say it when love, for him, was a synonym to forgiveness; alternatively, different kisses with him, with each one signifying a progressing relationship.

pairing — scaramouche/wanderer (w/ gender-neutral reader) ; could imagine this with either but i wrote this with wanderer in mind

tags — established relationship, fluff, a little bit of angst, not proofread, 1.1k ; ficlet

note — i needed an excuse to write a fic that is just all about kissing him and also comforting him (but still, i hope u like this nonnieee!!)

i. hand

You hold his hand and press small kisses on his knuckles, a little bit ticklish it was for him but he doesn’t retract. The feeling of it makes something in his chest ache with an unfamiliar sensation, and he knows it’s not his heart because he never had any.

You kiss the back of his hand, an intimate gesture, like devotion, like he was something—or someone—that should be adored.

“I am no god.” He was no deity to be worshiped so why are you so gentle to him? He wasn’t made of glass nor is he fragile; he was born from ashes of a burned home, he was carved out of war and winter storms and everything that you could ever pray against, he was a symphony composed of nothing but bad luck and conflicting melodies—he was not the kind people would choose to be around, much less adore.

And as if you bear a part of him in your mind, you understood what he was trying to say, could hear the questions that tormented him, could see the conflicted look on him as he looks at you with a gaze that seems to scrutinize your being when only he is looking for an answer. He tries to look for a crack, a gap in your expression, so that he can look through it and see what you’re really thinking.

“You don’t have to be one to be loved.” You press one last kiss on his hand just as you finished speaking, looking up to him. Indigo blue orbs met yours in a gentle gaze, eyes filled with affection only for the other to drown in. If he could put all that he was feeling, all that he was asking and seeking an answer to, into a simple word, it all condenses to: why?

“Do you still have doubts?” You ask, despite knowing the answer. He opens his mouth only to close it again, looking for the words that he should say but chose to be silent instead. And you smile—not a beaming grin nor a subtle paint on your features, but something gentle and comforting as if you’re assuring him: it’s okay, I understand you. I know you.

“You’re not unloveable.”

Loving him wasn’t the hardest thing to do, it came to you naturally as if breathing but the man thinks otherwise. A burnt child who loves the fire will only hear the fact that he is loveable, people just choose not to.

“How do you know that?” You know him well enough to hear the way his voice trembles at the effort to allow himself to be vulnerable. Long was the fall of the tall and formidable walls that he built around him.

“You’re not unloveable.” You repeat, taking hold of his fingers to kiss his hand once more. “Am I not enough proof of that?”

ii. forehead and cheeks

You cupped his cheeks and kissed his forehead, an unspoken language of tenderness in which he took a long time to understand. When love and affection has finally been given to him after decades of yearning, he’s unsure of how to hold it in his hands—does he gently hold it with both? Every bit overwhelms him to the bone, the gratifying yet intense feeling seeps through his being and settles inside of him in a way that it slowly consumes the crevices of his mind, until all that is left of him is nothing but a starved man who only longs for the feeling of your skin against his own.

There was a flicker of warmth in his expression and he closed his eyes as he relished in your kindness, your hands cradling his cheeks with warmth that coaxed his entire existence, your lips pressing against his forehead softly. Then, you started to pepper his face with small kisses and the man could only surrender to your touch, a dance of vulnerability and intimacy as he crumbled into your hold.

No one has ever come this close to him (a closeness that was a stranger to the pages of his past, a tender note composed solely for him), no one and nothing.

You spoke, murmuring against his skin and close to his lips: “Sunshine.” Humor weaves through your tone, teasing the absurdity of the mismatched title and the man who wears it with subtle grace.

“Don’t call me that.” He snarks yet no bite. It’s ironically funny how you use that nickname on him despite him being the complete contrast of it; he stands as the living paradox of the word itself.

The sound of laughter bubbles up in your throat and you answer, “Why not? It suits you perfectly, don’t you think?”

What else should you call the man who grasps the warmth and tender light in his chest only the sun could give? To be with him was to sit in the autumn sunlight, to sleep in the comfort of your sheets when the rain patters against your window, to walk barefoot on the sand even if it feels like shards of glasses against your sole, to be with him was to simply exist; you’ve never met anyone who had the sun for a soul and he has never met anyone who had the stars in their eyes, and while you had the universe etched on the palm of your hands, he has your name engraved on his.

iii. lips

Your lips ghost against his own, albeit in a tantalizing manner, teasing and quite slow—but he wasn’t a patient man.

“Are you going to kiss me or what?” He whispers and you don't waver at his straightforwardness, having been used to this note. There was no hostility in his tone, just pure and raw desperation and desire to feel you.

You could imagine the eye roll he would give you had he not had his eyes closed at the moment, could imagine the frown on his expression while he spoke and could imagine it faltering soon when you finally kissed him, slow as if to savor the softness of his lips and how it reminds you of spring; he could not properly express the warmth on his chest at the thought of how you love him when he still tasted of heartache and war.

You part from him but remained close, foreheads pressed against one another, breathing heavily, and looking into each other’s eyes. You wanted to tell him that you will find him in every lifetime, but the silence between you two was enough to convey such strong affections that you could hear him respond: And I will love you in each one.

(And he somehow finds himself thinking at the same, this is what he deserves. He’d do these, these vulnerable moments where he lays himself bare for you to touch and hold even if you’ll see the scars and cracks on his skin, the falling and getting hurt despite the fear, the burning and constant searching for something, he’ll do it all over again—if it’s you.)

If someone were to ask him what forgiveness tastes like, he would utter your name—everything that he has ever longed for came in the form of you. And he fears that this longing will last forever even while you’re here, that this longing will grow even when he crumbles to dust, that this longing will outlive this body and weave life into the earth that swallows your existence.

© azullumi — do not plagiarize, copy, repost, nor translate any of my works.

[simpee9000]

Not Just Friends - 9 -

M.List : Prologue : Part 1 : Part 2 : Part 3 : Part 4 : Part 5 : Part 6 : Part 7 : Part 8 : Words 5.1k

Childhood best friends turned into something more, at least with the label. Katsuki Bakugo, a fast-rising hero and fast-learning guy who is ever so slow in getting attached to and loving someone. Even three long years into a relationship, and your friends even forget you're even dating. Nothing happening, spare a few kisses.. like 3 kisses, during high school. Graduated and living together, and you guys have done absolutely nothing to further the relationship. Are you sure you're not just friends? Also not edited!! CW: Smut, brief domestic violence discussion, virginity loss, aggressive flirting from creeps, gore with pro hero stuff (lmk if i missed any) Applies to all chapters regardless of it is in said chapter.

The change was weird. A lasting sour taste in your mouth.

It was sudden too. His withdrawal from your life was instant.

Rather than how it was when you were temporarily sharing his room, he didn't wake you up and say goodbye. You thought that was just a morning after an argument thing, but it lasted. Going into the next week he even changed it more.

He no longer let you share your mornings, you had to relearn to use your own alarm quickly. Your schedules conflicted more than just that as well.

Lunch would no longer work, he switched his patrol times and took on meetings instead of leaving the space open for you.

Dinner wasn't really a thing anymore either. He stopped telling you when he'd be home, and after the first week of him not being home till late, you gave up. Throwing yourself into work as well. Changing your hours so you could sleep in more and get home later. Just to eat some leftovers he packed up for you, before turning in.

Words weren't really exchanged anymore and it was weird. You shared a room, and a bed, yet never saw each other awake.

It felt like a break up. In the simplest of terms. It wrecked you for a while. Felt like you were trudging along as you waited for him like a puppy.

You knew he held grudges but you've never expected him to turn it onto you.

You wanted to mourn the relationship but felt like it wasn't a right you had. He was still your boyfriend, you think. And you talked after you woke him up getting into bed. A quick conversation, but a conversation nonetheless. But the relationship back peddled to way before he got the watch. It felt like how it was after your first kiss in first year. Consuming yourselves with school to avoid the talk.

His mom still called often, nothing changed with how she spoke to you. Nothing changed outside your relationship with him and it was weird. You don't even know if your friends have noticed and it's been months.

It was nearing the end of October, the argument happened in the middle of August.

And none of your friends even blinked an eye. When Katsuki refused an invitation they assumed the normal, not surprised to see you at the bar without him. Mei didn't even notice. When you brushed off your change of work schedule and said he changed as well, she didn't ask another question. Thinking you were only glum because of the negative side of the internet. Fans bashing you at any corner possible.

It didn't bother you much, felt like a fly buzzing around you constantly but it was liveable.

Getting pestered for more interviews, people trying to get an inside look at Dynamight's home life. But you followed Shoto's PR manager's advice and chose to stay out of the limelight. Only interviewing when it was about your work.

Your work was your baby after all. Especially recently, it was hard to get you out of the office before two in the morning. Having more heroes come to you than before. It was exciting to see your career grow, you were just slightly annoyed that it was because of Katsuki that it grew. But a win was a win.

Everyone agreed with you on that, your friends closed down a bar for you, wanting to celebrate how many clients you had. You were getting article after article written about your work, being named as the second-best individual support tech in all of Japan. Because obviously, they'd have rankings for that as well.

A blush instantly covered your face when you walked into the bar, Mei pushing you forward. She dragged you out of the lab for once and convinced you to show face.

Kirishima is the first to tackle you in a hug, letting Mina do the same right after. "Congrats," he patted your shoulder as he pulled you more into the bar.

Most of Class A was there for you, celebrating you. Other pros you met along the way as well. People that you stayed in touch with since high school. Anyone you would want to be there was there.

"You guys shouldn't have," you smiled at the group, it was contagious. Denki had a derpy smile on him while Mina was bouncing around.

Kirishima laughed you off, "You needed it, been stuck in that lab and it paid off." You shrunk in on yourself when called out, you hadn't really been showing up that often to group outings. Not nearly as much as you used to.

"I got your favorite Cake!" Mina skipped towards you as best as she could. The cake was custom-made for you, having only the best flavors.

"It's not my birthday," you felt the need to point out, given the size of the celebration. And the candles that topped the cake.

"Might as well be," Mina pushed, "You're a new person! Officially number 2 in Japan!"

You did feel like a new person, you've changed a lot in the past two months.

"Come on," Mei teased over your shoulder, "Blow out the candles!"

"Make a wish!" Mina cheered, pushing the cake closer to you. And with the people you knew, they joined in. Cheering you on.

"They're gonna melt, y'know," Sero urged you once move.

"Fine," you laughed, feeling lighter than you had in the past couple of months. Thinking of nothing in particular as you blew out the candles, only looking around the crowd after. Noticing the lack of a certain blonde.

Rather than letting your shoulders slump too much, you let yourself fall into the cheer from your friends.

It was how you've done things since. You stopped waiting around for him, for the first time since you were kids. You pushed past him, not looking at every notification on your phone and hoping it was him. It didn't take Izuku this long to move beyond Katsuki, so you don't know why you let yourself take this long. Living behind him for so long.

You were pushed from conversation to conversation, catching up with people you haven't seen in a while and then talking with your closest friends. Being handed drink after drink in the process.

"You've been working a lot," Izuku commented when you finally made your way to him.

"Yeah," you nodded happily, "It's paid off."

He furrowed his brows, "You shouldn't overwork yourself. You haven't had a day off in months."

"Not true, I take a day off every week," you corrected him, not knowing where he got that idea. You took a day off every week, taking time to sleep the entire time.

"But-" he looked so confused, "Kacchan said you're not home, like ever."

"Oh," you understood the confusion now, "I switched my off days."

"Why?"

You shrugged, not really wanting to get into this conversation. Especially not with him and not now. You'd fall apart instantly. The feeling and pressure of your fragile relationship sitting on top of your chest. "Needed a change, you know how it is."

"I'm here for you, I know I'm busy but if you need anything I'm here," he was taking on the concerned best friend role, like usual.

"Z', I'm fine, really," you brushed off his concern, "Better than ever, my career is taking off, that's all that matters."

"That's not all that matter-"

"I need to go thank Mina and Mei again for setting this up," you excused yourself and walked through the slowly dying crowd. Meeting with the two pink-haired girls that were chatting near the food.

"Why do you look so drained?" Mei called out instantly, Mina slapping her shoulder right after.

"Social battery is just nonexistent right now," you lied, picking up a piece of food.

Mina looked around the bar, "It seems like it's just your close friends now, everyone else left by now."

You sighed in relief, you wanted to go home somewhat. Yet you didn't want to go back to him.

"Hey, Mei," you got her attention, "Can I spend the night?"

"Yeah," she shrugged, "Thought your social battery was dead though?"

"Friends don't count," you contradicted yourself and just prayed they wouldn't call you on it.

"Still, you never ask," Mei pointed out.

"I'm a new person," you grabbed another piece of food, filling your mouth so you couldn't be asked anymore.

"If you're mad at Bakugo for not showing up I wouldn't blame you." Mina spoke softly, "Dick move of him honestly."

"He's busy, it's fine," you defended him without another thought.

"No it's not, how many award shows have you been to for him?" Mei joined in. It felt nice they had your back, but it wasn't necessary.

You sighed, "I'm used to it. I'll have plenty more so it's fine."

Mina and Mei shared a look, not wanting to give in and forgive him as easily as you do, but not wanting to put you down either. "You're welcome to stay at mine," Mei finished the conversation.

A small gasp left Mina's mouth, eyes widening. "Bag of dicks is here," Mei groaned.

You couldn't help looking over your shoulder, seeing Katsuki for the first time awake in a while. Seeing Kirishima and Denki crowd him instantly. Greeting him warmly as you stood there. "I need a drink," you twisted your direction to head to the bar. Tonight was going to be a good night, not another about him.

Looking at him was too much, it hurt at first. Knowing your last real conversation was an argument. One where he threatened to take sex away from you, when he actually took everything him away. Just because you didn't want him to die for a stupid reason. It hurt to see everything on his side was fine.

It pissed you off. He was acting the same as you were, sure, but you would have gone to his award show. You would have been the first one there. Yet here he was, the last person to show after most left.

The bartender was quick to hand you a drink, watching and replacing it after you downed it all. You've been steadily drinking all night but a new buzz would help. Help the anger that was brewing over you.

You turned around when you had your second drink, wanting to sip on this one instead. Only getting more upset when he was still talking to his friends. Not even sparing you a glance. You let your head fall at this point, watching your shoes as you tapped your feet.

Any thought other than him would help, this wasn't about him. It shouldn't be.

For the past two months, you've been doing everything alone, and it's shown it's worth it. This was just another event that you had to get through. You'd just have to deal with him standing on the sidelines for once.

You saw Uraraka's white shoes before she spoke, "Do you want to join the group?"

When you looked up you saw that people pushed tables together, all of them sitting down together. How you didn't hear them move everything was surprising. Once you got rid of the shock, you turned back to her, "Yeah sure."

She smiled warmly, linking her arm with yours as she walked to the table with you. Sitting down next to you after you took your spot at the head of the table, next to him, unfortunately. You kept your body turned away from him, focusing on talking with her. The two of you didn't get to talk often after all. But you liked her nonetheless, she was the embodiment of welcoming.

The side conversations easily merged into one big conversation. You looked over the group as you leaned back in your chair. Sero was laughing as Denki rambled, Mei and Mina encouraging the conversation while Kirishima tried to reel it back in. Izuku was smiling fondly at the group, the same as Shoto. It was all your closest friends, it made you feel warm.

"It is not just a high school thing," Denki pointed at Sero laughing, "you're just mad that you couldn't." You were easily confused by his outburst, not having a clue what the conversation was about.

"No Nut November is like a middle school joke," Sero stated back.

"What is that?" Shoto asked, confused.

Denki and Sero started laughing, forcing Mina to explain, "It's a thing guys do, a challenge of not nutting for the full month of November."

"Nutting?" Shoto asked again.

"You're kidding!" Denki wheezed.

"Cumming," Kirishima answered, face cringing at the conversation. Everyone cringed besides Denki and Sero, who were too busy laughing.

"Why would you do that though?" Shoto was trying to piece together the concept.

"Only idiots do," Katsuki cut in. It was the first time you heard his voice so clearly all night.

Not being given a chance to soak in his voice, Denki starts defending the idea again, "You're only saying that cause you couldn't last that long."

"I could," Katsuki bit back, wanting to win at anything challenged.

"Please," Sero started teasing as well, "Bakugo you'd last a day."

"How the fuck would you know?"

"You either get some daily or never," Sero pointed out, "I'm falling on the likelihood of daily, knowing your girlfriend."

"Okay," you slapped your hands on the table, "Enough of that conversation."

Mina booed at you, having enjoyed the guys bickering.

"Thank god," you heard Izuku whisper in relief.

"I think I'm going to head out," you announced, standing up and giving Mei a nod so she knew she should get ready. You were thankful the bar was already nearly clean, no help was needed.

You looked down at Katsuki when you heard his keys, the sound familiar to you.

"Did you drive here?" Katsuki asked you, looking back up at you.

"Uh-" you looked at Mei, "I didn't."

"Need a ride back home?" he offered, standing up next to you.

It hurt to decline him, but you didn't want anything to do with him, not tonight.

"Ready?" Mei joined you by your side.

You looked between the two before settling on Katsuki, "I'm actually going to stay the night at Mei's." Any hope he had in his eyes left, face dropping in the slightest bit. You didn't notice the look he held until it was gone.

He looked like he got his heart ripped out and stomped on, but so did you.

"Look, if this is about me showing up late, I'm-"

A surprised laugh left your lips, it was mean. And the look on his face showed that he felt that it was mean as well. "This isn't about you Katsuki," you put it bluntly. It wasn't about him, tonight wasn't about him. You wanted to keep a good mood, and going home with him wouldn't do that.

You didn't give him the chance to reply before you grabbed onto Mei, wanting to leave as soon as possible. Going through all the goodbyes.

---

Mei and you shared the same horrible sleep schedule. She grabbed some wine as she let you collapse on her couch and turned the TV onto something for background noise the second you got to her apartment.

She handed you a glass before she sat down next to you, beer in her own hand. "I got to ask now, you know that right?"

You groaned, taking a sip of your wine, "Hit me with the questions." Avoidance wouldn't last in a small setting and you knew that.

"What the hell happened between you guys?"

"We're having a rough spot right now," you answered simply, shuffling further into the couch.

"That much is obvious."

"Fine," you gave in, taking a deep breath to give an actual answer, "I haven't really talked to him for two months."

Mei's face drained of all color, "What?"

"Yeah," you shrugged, swirling the wine in your glass.

"Are you broken up?" Mei reached a hand to rest on your forearm.

"No, at least," you thought for a second, "I don't think we are."

"How are you with someone you haven't talked to in months?"

"I don't know," you mumbled.

"What type of argument could have caused that?"

You wanted to laugh out of frustration, looking back on it was painful and stupid to you. Yet you were still so mad. "Y'know how I made him that watch?" she nodded, "Well, he asked me to make the watch for the reasons you thought. And he was fully relying on it. Having his quirk off every time he was next to me."

"Can't that kill you?" Mei asked.

"Yes, so I told him that and he turned it into a massive thing. I asked him to take it off, and he said no, so I told him I wouldn't touch him when he had his quirk off. Now we just don't talk," you explained quickly, chest tightening.

"But you're still dating?" you could tell she was trying to be sensitive to the situation.

All you could do was shrug, "I still share a bed with him, so I'm assuming yes."

"How come you don't talk to him?"

"I tried the first week, but when he changed his schedule around to avoid me, I did the same."

"So that's why-"

"Yeah, it's done a lot of good for me though. I've finally grown a lot more. My career is at a high and it's only up from now. I'm no longer just in his shadow. Honestly, I'm thankful for the fight. I finally feel like an adult. I don't need anyone to get me where I am and it's refreshing," you admitted. A lot of good has come from it, and you weren't going to ignore it.

"But you love him?" Mei asked, trying to make sure.

"Of course, he just isn't my life."

"You're not going to try for him? You have been each other's since you were five," Mei worded slowly.

"I'm not reaching out to someone who doesn't want me, Mei," you looked at her, firm on what to do about everything. It was already settled before but now you've actually said it. "I don't know why it took me forever to realize, I wish I did when Izuku did. I would be a lot further in life."

"You already are far in life, you're not even twenty and your 2nd best support tech-"

"I could have been first-"

"No," Mei shook her head, "I'm sorry to say it, but you're only this far because of him. Because of your friends."

"Mei-"

"I'm not wrong, you've been given endless support. Without that? You would still be fumbling behind everyone else. You can't get anywhere in life solely on your own."

"Well, it wasn't only him," you pointed out. You agreed with her, your friends helped a lot.

"It was majority him," she pointed out.

You rolled your eyes, "Don't you somewhat hate him?"

"I still know he's good for you, and if your entire relationship goes to shit over this, I'm not letting myself be a part of it. Is he an asshole for showing up late? Yes, fuck him for that. Is he a dick for throwing a fit about kissing and not talking to you? Absolutely. But he is also the man who loves you the most, he's been there for you so many times. Are you going to throw that away?"

"I'm not throwing shit away, he is," you defended yourself, tears lining your eyes.

"Your not even trying-"

"I shouldn't have to," you stood up, "I tell him everything while he keeps himself away. I'm fucking done. If he wants me, he needs to tell me."

"What are you doing?" Mei questioned, seeing you grab your things.

"Leaving," you said firmly.

"You don't have a car-"

"I'll walk," you spit out, slamming the door to her apartment as you left. Breaking down when in the elevator. You wanted tonight to be about you, about your success. Yet as always, it turned out to be about him. You thought you'd grown out of being only mentioned because of him.

You walked on uneasy footing until you got out of her block. She was your best friend and she didn't even understand. It made you wish you talked to Izuku.

The street lamps lit up your bag as you looked for your phone. Glancing at the time before you dialed his number. His sleep was fucked up too, so you weren't worried about waking him up

"Are you okay?" was the first thing he said, full of concern. It was 3 in the morning after all.

"No," you choked on a sob, choosing to lean on a wall rather than continue walking. You didn't even know where to walk.

"What's going on? Do I need to get you-"

"I'm safe," you cleared up your throat, "I'm just struggling."

"Why?"

"Katsuki and I are in a rough patch, Mei doesn't get my side on it, and I can't turn to him," you rambled, "I just don't know what to do."

"Just breathe right now, you're going to get worse if you continue like this," he counted for you to follow. Performing his hero script as he calmed you down.

You let yourself sit on the concrete, leaning your back onto a random building as you rested your head on your knees.

"Okay," you whispered into the phone, "Katsuki and I haven't talked in two months."

Izuku was a rambler but he was also a good listener. Letting you get out any detail you needed before even opening his mouth. So you told him everything, leaving out any sex-related things. Telling him Katsuki used the watch to hug you or kiss you, so a truth in the cover-up. He could draw up that conclusion on his own.

"I was just thinking that maybe you'd understand," you finished, "I'm just so tired of reaching out to him."

"I get it," he started, "Probably the only one that does. He locks himself off and just expects you to come chasing for him. And the second you don't, he throws a fit. You should let him, I know it's hard, but he needs to grow up as well. You told him your concern and he locked you out, he needs to be the one to let you back in."

You sighed in relief, "So I'm doing the right thing?"

"Yes, especially in a relationship. It shouldn't be so one-sided with communication. You come a long way in the past months, and he should acknowledge that. I love you both, and I hope you guys work past it, but if it doesn't then it's for the best," he spoke to you like a brother would. You didn't even notice when the dynamic between the two of you flipped. Him going from acting like a younger brother to the older brother.

"Thank you," you sniffled, trying to dry the tears that have been working down your face, "Mei thinks I'm throwing everything away."

"He's the one that pushed you out, he's throwing it away," Izuku pointed out. You hummed in agreement, looking down at your phone.

"Holy fuck," the time surprised you, it was nearing five in the morning, and it was a Saturday. You were thankful that the city wasn't awake yet. "I need to get home."

"You're not home?!" he squeaked into the phone, "Where are you?"

"I don't know," you answered honestly, standing upright and stretching your limbs out.

"What?!"

"I'll start walking home now," you tried to calm him down.

"Do you know how dangerous that is?"

"I'm fine Izuku, I'm maybe a block away from home," that seemed to calm him down. He let you hang up the phone, telling you to text him when you were home.

You were glad to have a hoodie at this point, pulling the hood up to hide your tear-streaked face as you walked back home. Needing the ten-minute walk to calm down. Think for yourself.

While you fully agreed with Izuku, you also saw Mei's point of view. She wanted you happy, and you were happy with Katsuki. You didn't want to break up with him, you loved him fully. But if he couldn't meet you halfway, you weren't going to rush to fill that emptiness he left. You'd rather move on to better things. Maybe find someone who would.

With your head hung low the entire walk back to your apartment, you didn't even notice you were in the elevator until it opened on your floor. Having walked all the way on a full autopilot. Thinking of your relationship that overtook one of the biggest days of your career.

You opened your door with a sigh, throwing your keys on the shelf before turning into the kitchen for some water. Filling up a glass before you walked to the basket of blankets in the corner of the living room.

The second you turned around to walk to the couch you dropped your glass. A shocked scream left your lips when you saw Katsuki sitting there in the dark.

"What the fuck are you doing?" you hissed at him, confused as to why he was sitting in the dark and not in his room.

"I was sleeping," he answered.

"Here?" you shot back, bending down to pick up the broken glass.

"Aren't you supposed to be at Mei's?"

You squeezed your hand in annoyance, only noticing the burn of the cut then.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing," you turned his concern down, throwing away the broken glass when you walked into the kitchen. Thankful that it broke into big pieces rather than small. You ran your hand underwater as you ignored him.

"You're bleeding," it was clear he was groggy with sleep.

"No shit," you answered plainly.

"Fuckin' c'mere," he moved near you, trying to grab your hand only to get swatted away.

"I can take care of myself," you snapped at him, moving to grab a paper towel, trying to dry up the small cut.

"Think I don't fucking know that?" he asked back, agitated at your reactions to him. You waited for the bleeding to stop before throwing away your trash and grabbing a bandaid to cover the small cut to your finger.

You shrugged, "Never know with you. Never tell me anything. Don't know what you know or don't."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"I-" you sighed, you didn't want to get into it, "Nothing, I'm tired." You walked past him again, grabbing a blanket and getting comfortable on the couch.

"You're sleeping down here?"

"Yeah, go to bed Katsuki," you turned away from him.

"Kats," he said softly, making you turn to face him again.

"What?"

"You stopped calling me Kats, it's only this Katsuki bullshit now."

"Whatever, Katsuki," you dismissed without thinking, turning back over as you tried to forget how he looked just then. It's how he looked at the party, just ten times worse.

"What happened to us?"

You didn't bother to reply, it was clear he wanted you to do the talking. But if he wanted to actually talk, he had to first.

"This," he paused, silence filling the air before he cleared his throat only for his voice to crack regardless, "This isn't what I want."

"You never told me what you wanted," you couldn't help but reply.

"I'm not good at this type of shit," he was angry at himself but you wouldn't fall into this pity party for himself. "I didn't think you'd change your schedule."

"You changed yours."

"I only did that because I needed to think," he defended.

"For two months?"

"I switched it back after but you weren't home, and haven't been since."

"So you couldn't have called? Asked me when I did get home at night? Woke me up in the morning to talk?"

"You could have done the same."

"I always do that Katsuki," you turned to face him, "I'm always the one fucking chasing you. And I'm done."

He choked, "You're done?"

"I'm done chasing after you," you clarified, "I've met you halfway, time after time, you just need to do the same."

Silence buzzed around the living room. The two of you were just staring at each other. Both are equally heartbroken. You looked him over for the first time in months.

"You're still wearing the watch," you pointed out, seeing the gleam of it on his wrist.

"You gave it to me," he replied, "I haven't used it since, by the way."

"Good."

He took a shaky breath in, "I'm so fucking sorry, Brains." You waited for him to continue, "You were right, I wasn't using it just as a crutch. I was completely relying on it." It hurt to hear it from him, you already knew it was true. "I, fuck," he ran his hand over his face, "I went to the doctor too, they said if I used it that much it'd kill me. Having my quirk completely off."

You couldn't be more glad about the fight now, knowing it kept him from killing himself. Sure it wouldn't kill him immediately, but over time it would just get worse and worse for his health.

"Once I found out you were right, I just couldn't bear the thought. I don't feel safe around you without my quirk dampened and now I can't," he admitted, "I feel my quirk just with this conversation. I don't want to hurt you."

"You were late to the party," you pointed out instead, "You never even congratulated me."

He hung his head, "I got sidetracked with trying to get a gift- but I was going to congratulate you at home."

"Doesn't excuse it."

"I know, I'm sorry," he reached into his pocket, "I got this for you though." He tossed the small bag at you.

You gave him an unsure look before opening it, first seeing a sticker of "World's Best Tech" an inside joke between the two of you. He hated the idea of #1 mugs and things like it, claiming he was better than everyone else. The next was just a small necklace, something easy to wear with everything.

"It doesn't make up for shit, and that's not what I'm trying to do with it," he said after you stared at the gift for a while.

"I know," you spoke softly, the gift was thoughtful for your relationship.

"I'm so fucking proud of you, I knew you could do it," he followed.

Tears were hitting your eyes harder than before. Despite claiming you didn't need him. You wanted to hear him say that so bad.

You saw him move to get up when he saw your tears, sitting back down and grabbing his own hands when he decided against it. You patted the seat next to you. As long as his watch wasn't on, you were okay. He rushed immediately to your side, tugging you into a hug before he could overthink.

"I should have talked to you a lot sooner," he spoke into your hairline, leaving a kiss on your forehead after.

"Yeah."

"I'm sorry I can't be there for you like this," he said softly.

You pulled back from him, "What do you mean?"

"Can't hug you and shit," he grumbled, pulling you back into him. Not wanting you to see his face.

You sat in silence for a while, soaking in his words and the perspective he likely had the past two months. He could have thought you stopped talking to him because he couldn't touch you anymore.

"I'm not mad that you can't touch me, I'm upset that you don't talk to me, in general," you spoke just as softly as he did, wanting to comfort him the way he was comforting you.

He let out a breath of relief, "It's gotten worse without you around."

"What did?"

"My quirk just goes off without you now, just the thought freaks me out enough. Fuckin' annoying," he confessed.

"Is it going to go off soon?" you wanted to be prepared to be pushed away from him. If he did it unannounced you'd likely cry. He just squeezed you closer.

"No," he said quietly, "It's finally calmed the fuck down."

-Next Part-

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[goldenstring6123]

This happen to my bestie last week ajsjsjsjsns

She came to school all moody instead of cheery and vibrant and it's not normal to see her like that– I asked what happened, at first she doesn't speaks and just shook her head. Like, 20 minutes later, she suddenly cried. I was there next to her and comfort her, (I literally get all concerned and panicked)

During break, I asked again why she is like that and she told me that her mom told her to die out of frustration (Like– girl, wth) it is all because her little sister overslept and make her late for school. And her mother also late for works.

So, can I ask how LaDS men comfort their partner when they're feeling down? 🥺🥺

Thanks ♡⁠(⁠Ӧ⁠ｖ⁠Ӧ⁠｡⁠)

Lnds: Comfort for a crying heart

Warning: Comfort. GN!Reader

Author's note: I'm sorry to hear that about your bestie, no person should ever be told that especially by their mother. I'm sending my hugs to you, your bestie and everyone who's having a hard time! You have my full love and support!

Zayne: The Patient Comforter

Zayne never sensed the shift in your personality that day. He knew there was something different with you, but he didn't think much of it, considering it was morning time. When he got home after work, he found it odd that his house was very silent. It was as if it had gone back to the days when you hadn't moved in yet. He entered your shared bedroom and found you sleeping, but it was odd, too, because the room was too dark and the air was too dry.

He changed his clothes and tucked himself into bed, but unlike his usual routine, he wrapped his hand around your waist and buried his nose in your hair. You were running hot, and simply by that alone, he knew you had been crying. He hugged you while you sobbed quietly and tried to catch your breath.

"It will be alright, honey," he would whisper to you and rub your arms. When you rolled over to him, you immediately buried your face in his chest. There was nothing to say to him at all; it was just one of those bad days when all the bad things chose to be at the forefront of your mind. Zayne stroked your hair and pulled you in closer to his chest, not minding the snot and tear marks you were making on his gray shirt.

When you let go of him and scooted back a little, he went to the kitchen and brewed you tea. He came back and handed it to you while waiting to see if you wanted to tell him how you felt. You looked so tired in his eyes, so he was very, very patient with you. You both talked to each other for a good hour or two, and Zayne listened intently, asking you how you felt.

He wiped your tears for you and lent you his shoulder when you spoke. His hand held onto yours, and his thumb brushed the back of your palm while you cried again.

Rafayel: The Comforting Joker

Rafayel is more perceptive than you thought. The moment you stepped into his house, he could see that you were in a bad mood. He stared at you, and the first thing he asked was, "Why the long face?" which was pretty odd considering that you were smiling.

You thought you were holding it in so well, but when he asked that question, everything seemed to slowly topple down in an instant. You found a way to distract yourself in his home, but Rafayel was having none of it. He looked so serious about it, and not a single hint of teasing escaped his mouth.

His frown made you frown as well. You decided to give in and tell him what was wrong, how you felt heavy when you woke up in the morning, and how things seemed to go wrong the moment you got out of bed. The moment a single tear fell down your cheek, Rafayel pulled you into a tight, long hug. He said a lot of stuff to try and cheer you up, and he did his best to make you laugh even if it made him look stupid; he didn't mind doing it for you.

Along the way, he talked about how he'd rate bomb that rude store and punch that post you walked into, and as stupid as that sounded, you managed to let out a stupid laugh. When Rafayel saw that, he was more than glad to see you slowly getting back on your feet.

Throughout the whole day, he gave in to your whims, doing things that you liked and eating the food you wanted to eat at that moment. He acted all cutesy for you because he knew you liked that about him the most, but he didn't joke with you in return. Instead, he acted all romantic and such.

Xavier: The Silent Comforter

Xavier could sense that something was off. Everything was in its place, and you were acting practically the same as every day, but he couldn't help but be instinctively close to you as if the energy he was sensing was oozing out of your body. He was quiet beside you, tending to his own entertainment, but the moment he heard a sniff, all his suspicions were confirmed.

Xavier kept his lips shut and reached an arm over your shoulders, pulling you closer to him. He didn't say a word to you. You continued to sniffle and hiccup while watching the movie, but both of you knew you weren't actually paying attention to the show.

"Do you want to talk about it?" he asked.

Xavier would pat your arm or your thigh to comfort you, placing a kiss every now and then. He listened intently to your rants and your concerns, nodding and asking the right questions. It was his strategy to get you to relax and let it all out naturally. Albeit he'd have a hard time trying to understand you through your sobbing, all he knew was that you needed him at that moment.

It didn't take long for you to calm down and doze off to sleep, feeling the emotional exhaustion weigh you down more than you'd like to admit. You always fell asleep on his lap because he would always comb through your hair while you spoke.

A few hours later, you would wake up next to Xavier on the bed, and on the night table was some convenience store food that he bought.

Sylus: The Kissing Comforter

Sylus didn't know you were having a bad day, even if you were going on and on about that small little thing that made you feel so infuriated. Although he was listening very, very intently, offering you some practical advice and partially suggesting that he could deal with it for you, it wasn't until you headed to the restroom that Luke and Kieran sneaked into his office after hearing the entire thing.

Sylus was confused when the twins told him that you were crying on the way to the bathroom. At that moment, Luke and Kieran thought that their boss was too…insensitive. Sylus knew the look on their faces.

When you headed back to his office after half an hour, Sylus was waiting for you by the door. He pulled you into his grasp and brushed his thumb under your puffy eyes. "Are you alright?" he asked, and you burst out crying ugly like you did in the bathroom. He frowned when you told him that you were just having a bad day, but Sylus could see right through you.

Your efforts in brushing your own misery aside were futile at best.

He picked you up and carried you to the couch, and he patted your back like a baby. You went on and on again about how you felt so bad and why everything was going in the wrong direction, and this time, Sylus was quiet, shushing you and telling you, "Don't cry; everything will be better tomorrow." When you had nothing left to say, Sylus slowly began to distract you by giving you kisses in between cries, touching you, and petting you until you couldn't think of anything else for a few minutes. He nibbled on your ear and whispered sweet nothings alongside comforting words.

Author footnotes: I'm more than sure that their way of comforting the reader/you would vary depending on how you particularly act when you're having a bad day so I decided to go generic and not specify anything... Layout by me, using canva premium | Do not repost |

[bratkook]

deep six: dancing with death. (m) jjk

part one. part two. v-day drabble

pairing. biker!jk x reader genre. smut, fluff warnings. infidelity (but its ok i promise), protected s*x, oral, jungkook is kinda whiny and that itself deserves a warning, they're just fluffy and mushy and love each other they just dont know it yet word count. 12.2k summary. you've always known to stay away from the tombstone patches, told they were the enemy, that you'd be betraying your club if you chose not to listen. but an unsuspected friendship makes you think that maybe not everyone was as bad as you were made to believe. author’s note. hihiiii, this is a prequel to the deep six series! aka how jungkook and oc start their friendship and have it blossom into what it becomes in part one of deep six. i truly love these two so much, something about their forbidden love and how jungkook is tough and dangerous but oh so sweet to her makes me fucking melt!!! ok hope u enjoy it bye ily muah

The world is a constant blur, days merging, memories hazy and bleeding together in your mind. The only time you enjoy the blur is now, sitting on your bike as you flow through the streets. Exiting Cobra territory made you feel free, the streets widening up the further you got, allowing you to cruise without the fear of getting swiped by a careless driver. 

Your eyes fall shut briefly, taking a slow breath as you try to push the earlier feelings away. Minho was having a bad day, a deal he had hoped to make to start running ice falling through, the man in charge deciding to go with a neighboring club instead. It wasn’t your fault the man thought Minho was too hot headed and messy to not find a way to mess this deal up, wanting a club with more reach, more connections and reliability than the Cobras could offer. That didn’t stop Minho from treating you like it was your fault, doing what he did best before barking orders at you to go for a run, desperately needing alcohol to drown his emotions. 

The earlier fear still rattles you, leaves your fingers trembling slightly as they clutch the handles and accelerate. He couldn’t hurt you here, and that's all the comfort you need at the moment, finally pulling into the familiar parking lot of the bodega. There’s a few cars parked inside, a lone scooter tossed by the sidewalk, and a shiny black bike parked by the entrance. 

You eye it for a moment, always checking for visible tags that let you know if the bike belonged to a club that had the Cobra’s high on their hit list. It’d be easy to act dumb if it was, no identifying items on you, knowing better than to roam the streets without Minho with a serpent stamped on you. 

When you find nothing you decide it’s fine, knowing you were on a time crunch to get what he wanted. With another slow breath you step off your bike, already feeling your earlier nerves fade away as you enter your comfort space. It seems odd to consider it one, but something about the buzzing fluorescent lighting and peeling laminate made you feel like an individual. 

Music plays through a portable speaker by the cashier, the worker greeting you with a smile that you return before you turn down your favorite aisle. That’s when you spot him again. The Deep Six member in the same spot he was in the last time you saw him a few weeks ago. It had been a close encounter then, not realizing who he was with your boyfriend standing outside. But his arms are revealed to you now, markings on his skin making it clear what club he belonged to, leaving no room for confusion. If that somehow wasn’t enough the giant patches on his vest and the glimmering rings on his fingers spell it out, literally. 

You approach him slowly, not sure if you trust him but not fully on edge like you were before, knowing Minho’s watchful eyes weren’t observing your every move. Without the ticking bomb a few feet away you allow yourself to slightly relax in the presence of him, assuming he had no idea who you were, clearly too focused on his candy selection. 

Sure you were on a run for Minho but you always pick something up for yourself. A small smile is already on your lips as your eyes land on the sour straws, ready to pick your flavor of choice, only to find it completely empty. Instantly you know the culprit is the man next to you, remembering the way you had reached for the same candy last time you saw him here by chance, and as you turn to stare at him you see his palms cradling four packets of the sour straws, a teasing smile on his face as he meets your eyes. Greedy. 

“Sorry,” he breathes out, sounding anything but, trying desperately not to laugh and failing as he makes his way to the front to pay. You don’t even respond to him, admitting defeat as you settle on the green apple flavored ones before you return to your earlier task, finding a case of Minho’s favorite beer and paying for it. 

The heat welcomes you once more outside, loading up the beer and candy into the saddlebags on the side of your bike, already forgetting about the candy thief from inside. 

“Hey, Snake!” A voice cuts through the air, making you freeze as you search for it, finding the Six standing by the shiny black bike you had spotted earlier. He reaches into his pocket, still smiling as he pulls out the blue raspberry sour straw packet, tossing it your way with ease. 

You catch it with both palms, momentarily stunned at the small gesture and at the fact that he clearly knew you were associated with the Cobras. The rumble of his engine snaps you out of it, smiling slightly as you look up at him once more, a breathless thank you escaping your lips before he is smiling back and peeling out of the parking lot. 

When you live the life you do, constantly on edge with a paranoid boyfriend questioning everyone’s intentions, it's hard not to let his way of thinking affect your own. Even as you sit back at the clubhouse, holding onto that packet of candy, you can’t help but wonder if maybe the Six’s seemingly sweet gesture was a trap. Maybe he was testing to see how gullible you are, stupid enough to interact with him, to use you to send a message to the Cobras. It wouldn’t be the first time. Minho’s reign made you an easy target, knowing you had a lot of enemies that would love to make a lesson of you. 

It's been so long since anyone has shown you genuine kindness with no strings attached, and as you finally enjoy your treat, you can’t stop the warm feeling of hope in your chest that maybe not everyone was as bad as you were made to believe. 

You don’t return to your comfort space again until two weeks later, on another run for the club. Minho seemed to think if he gave you pointless errands to run you’d be satisfied, content with the loveless relationship and mundane everyday life. It was his way of keeping you on a leash, making you follow orders and letting the lead slacken up, only tightening it back up to remind you he was all you had. But you’d take the small moments of peace wherever you could get them. 

The lot is empty today as you pull in, the only car belonging to the worker inside. The moment of solitude only lasts for a minute, a loud rumble cutting through the air as another bike pulls in beside you. You tense up immediately, whipping your head to assess the situation, spotting the familiar Six too lost in his thoughts to realize you were here. He furrows his brows as he takes off his helmet, adjusting the large rings on his fingers before he glances your way, jumping slightly when he notices it's you. 

You eye him curiously, hands coming up to the key in the ignition, ready to start it up and tail out of here if he made a move. Minho had made a claim of some other club trying to ambush a deal earlier today, an unlucky hangout being the only one hurt, but without an identifying patch it left him on edge more than normal. So far the Six didn’t make you feel like you had to be wary, but you couldn’t be so sure. 

He seems to sense it, his arms raising up in surrender as he stays on his bike. “It’s okay snake, I don’t bite.” He smiles at his own stupid remark, but it slowly falls off his face when he sees the stoic expression remains on yours. “Seriously though, I’m just here for some smokes and a treat. I can go somewhere else if it really makes you this uncomfortable though.”

“Why aren’t you somewhere else to begin with?” you bite back, still not trusting that he wasn’t trying to trap you. 

Jungkook just sighs, hand coming up to ruffle up his helmet hair. “It’s nice to get away sometimes. This is neutral grounds, you know as best as I do that anything club related done here is a death wish.” He lets you process his statement, seeing the way you continue to eye him, your gaze tracing along the patches he wears. The large tombstone taunts you, torn and a little rugged on the edges, showing just how long he’s been wearing it. “Why aren’t you somewhere on your side of town?”

You purse your lips, looking away from him as you pull your hand away from your key, getting off your bike, deciding this conversation was better to have inside your little safe space. “Like you said, it’s nice to get away sometimes.” You hook your helmet over your handle, reaching the bodega’s door and holding it open as you look back at him. “You coming?”

He seems to snap out of it, quickly hopping off his bike and jogging your way, saying a quick greeting to the worker before going down the familiar aisle. He smiles when he sees you next to those damn sour straws. 

“Those must be your favorite huh?”

You give him a quick glance, seeing the smile on his lips before you turn back and grab a packet of the candy. “They are, so try not to take all of them at once again.”

He lets out a soft laugh, reaching forward and grabbing a couple of the same. “I gave you one last time, which says a lot because I don’t really like sharing.”

“A Six that doesn’t like sharing? That’s not surprising.” Your words are light, a small smile tugging at the corner of your lips as you turn around and continue roaming the aisle. 

“Not as surprising as a Snake trying to tell me what to do.” The crinkling of plastic fills the store as he rips open his packet, taking a bite of a sour straw as he tries to hide his own smile when you give him an eye roll. 

“I’m not technically a Snake,” you mutter out, finger tracing along the chocolate bar you were contemplating grabbing. It wasn’t a lie, you didn’t wear the patch, you weren’t granted the perks of being a part of the club, nothing you said held any weight on the decisions they made. You weren’t a Cobra, you just belonged to one of them. Though that didn’t seem like the wisest thing to tell him, you knew the history between Deep Six and the Cobras, and telling him you belonged to Minho of all people would put you high up on his list of people to hurt if he had bad intentions to begin with. 

“Oh? You just like to hang on to the back of one then?”

“Something like that,” you sigh, deciding not to grab the extra treat, turning to look at him fully once more. “Are you gonna keep calling me a snake?”

His tongue prods along his cheek as he looks down at you, eyebrow slowly cocking up. “What would you rather I call you?”

“Y/N.”

He nods slowly, letting your name settle into his mind before he was reaching his hand out, the golden glimmering rings spelling out SIX shining in the light. You eye his hand for a minute before grabbing it in a gentle handshake, seeing the way he smiles before saying his own name. 

“Jungkook.”

Jungkook was proud of his club, wore his patch with pride, did everything he could to show his loyalty. So why was he starting to tell white lies to his brothers, making up excuses to justify why he was going to the bodega on neutral grounds directly after finishing a job. He knew what would happen if they knew who he was talking to, slowly befriending. His only rational excuse was the fact that you had said you weren’t technically a Cobra, and although he’s not sure how well that would hold up to the rest of his members, it was the only excuse that helped ease his guilt. 

He was currently sat on the small sidewalk outside of the bodega, elbows leaning on his knees as he glanced around the empty lot. You had been meeting here once every week or so. He had started to take note of the typical times you’d be sent on runs of your own, choosing to coincidentally run into you at the same time. You had yet to arrive today though, leaving him waiting for fifteen minutes, wondering if maybe you wouldn’t be showing up today. 

Just before he decides to head out, you pull into the lot on your Dyna, a smile on your face when you spot him sitting on the sidewalk like a child. 

“You’re late,” he calls out, grabbing a packet of candy and tossing it your way when you get off your bike and head towards him. 

“Sorry, I wasn’t aware we had a time set for our little play dates.” You open up the candy, taking a bite and shutting your eyes at the sour taste. Jungkook laughs at your expression, patting the sidewalk beside him for you to settle into. 

“I can’t be left unsupervised, you should know this by now.”

You laugh now, taking a look at the bodega and the surrounding area. “Nothing seems to be destroyed, I think you do just fine unsupervised.”

He leans back on his palm, raking back his dark hair as he stares into the sky in thought. “I tend to cause psychological damage, not too big on destroying property.”

“Got it. So you torture people?”

Jungkook chuckles, turning to look at you slightly, a small twinkle of mischief flashing in his eyes as he smiles. “Exactly.”

You can only laugh, not exactly sure how truthful he was being with his little joke. The both of you made an effort to not discuss the intricacies of your clubs, not entirely sure what it was that you both did for them, knowing things would get too messy and tangled up if you did. Instead you talk about yourselves, knowing small anecdotes of each other’s childhoods, recounting stories of when he took a few tumbles on his bike when he was just starting to learn to ride, ones of you before the life of the Cobras was all you knew. 

It was a brief moment of normalcy, being able to talk to someone else, laughing over dumb jokes while sharing candy. It made you forget how twisted all of it was until you returned back home. 

Jungkook just appreciated having a new friend, someone to talk to about things that didn’t have to do with his club. He just wished he could talk to you in moments that lasted longer than the brief bodega hang outs. So as you both finish up, loading up your bike with the items you were told to come pick up, he takes a leap of faith. 

“Hey, can I—uh. Can I have your number?” He looks uncharacteristically shy as he asks this, one hand rubbing along the back of his neck. “To arrange our play dates,” he adds jokingly, a small smile on his lips in hopes of softening the blow of potential rejection as he reaches for his phone and hands it over. 

You freeze instantly, staring at his device as the voice in your head tells you not to, screams that this would get you in trouble. But the hopeful look on his face is enough to shut it up, grabbing his phone with a nod. “Sure, but uhm, I can’t text often.”

His brows furrow slightly at the tone you use, watching the way you type in your number and text yourself. Something about it made it seem like you were nervous, and the only thing he can assume is that the people you were around would grow curious over who you were texting. 

“Why? Scared your Snake friends would be pissed that a Six is texting you?” His tone is playful, but as you hand him his phone back, the look on your face makes his smile slowly fade away. 

“My boyfriend, specifically.”

Jungkook feels his heart drop at the revelation. He knew you were most likely involved with a Cobra, having seen you the first time you met on the back of one’s bike—more specifically, Minho’s bike. He had just assumed you were Minho’s chosen girl for the day, but if you were mentioning a boyfriend now, Jungkook could easily piece together who exactly that is. 

The third cardinal rule of his club replays in the back of his mind, “Never get involved with a Cobra”. It makes his head hurt, desperately trying to find a deeper excuse, a loophole to allow this to continue. It shouldn’t mean anything, you two were just friendly, barely even toeing that line as it was. But just knowing you were spoken for, by the leader of the Cobras especially, made the guilt he already felt for speaking to you get worse. 

But he does his best to shake it off, drowning out his thoughts as he takes his phone back and shrugs. 

“We’re just two people who share a love for sour straws, but if it makes you feel better you text me whenever you want.”

You don’t text him for a while, the fear of your tiny little secret being exposed keeps you from responding to the text you had sent yourself from his phone. There was also the small feeling of guilt festering in your stomach, feeling like you had lied to him by keeping your relationship a secret. All he had assumed from the get go was that you liked to hang around Cobras, but you noticed the way his face had changed when you mentioned a boyfriend, and you can only imagine how he’d react if you told him your boyfriend was the leader of the Cobras. 

You find yourself staring at your device any chance you get, hidden in the bathroom of your place, lounging on the couch in the clubhouse, until you finally get the courage to send the first text. It makes your heart race, saving his number under your best friend's name, changing the emoji at the end so you know the difference, going as far as putting his messages on do not disturb. Clearly hiding, keeping him a secret. 

Jungkook knows it's wrong, because he’s keeping it a secret too. But once that first text was sent, they never stopped. He responds when he has time in between club duties, knowing you’ll reply when you get a moment alone. Your messages are short, random conversations that never crossed any lines, but he meant what he said, taking full advantage of having your number to coordinate your play dates. 

The guilt you feel slowly fades away with each passing day, becoming comfortable in your ways as you let him know what days you’ll be on that side of town, and before you know it, your hang outs become your favorite thing. You slowly start to consider Jungkook your friend, another rare slice of peace in your messy life. It makes you feel like your younger self, excited to speak to a cute boy and laugh until your cheeks hurt. 

And it should make you feel icky to have these thoughts about someone who wasn’t your boyfriend, but your relationship with Minho had been romantically dead for years now, not able to remember the last time he did something for you that didn’t solely benefit him. So you choose to enjoy the small flutters in your stomach that occur around Jungkook, allowing yourself to sit closer to him each time, friendly touches beginning to get more courageous while still toeing the line. 

Jungkook doesn’t mind it, he thought you were pretty and would let you trace the patches on his jacket or analyze his tattoos up close if that's what you wanted. You were the one with a boyfriend, who was he to tell you what was right or wrong for you to do, he wasn’t one to judge or pull a morality card on you considering the things he does in his club. It was all mostly innocent anyways, even now as you stand a good few feet away from each other, respective candy in each other's hands, attempting to toss them into your mouths. 

It was innocent. 

“God, your aim is horrible!” you laugh out, feeling the candy hit your forehead and bounce right off. 

“What are you talking about? That was a clear headshot.” He has that charming smirk on his face as he says it, tongue flicking against his lip ring while he laughs too. 

“You’re not trying to kill me Jungkook, we’re trying to see who wins first.” You swat the remnants of sugar off your face as you reach into your own bag for a piece of candy, motioning for him to be ready. He gets into position, slightly bending his knees and angling his head back with his mouth open, ready to catch whatever you throw. With a small snicker you grab four small pieces of candy, aiming right for his face with one eye shut and sending them flying. Jungkook is totally unsuspecting until suddenly, he’s being pelted all over his face, his eyes squeezing shut at the shock. 

“Dude,” he laughs, eyes finally opening up to spot you cackling away, perfectly content at your little stunt. 

“Okay, okay sorry. For real this time. I got it, I can feel it in my bones.” Jungkook should tell you no, say you wasted your turn and deliver payback, but you look too happy right now for him to do anything but smile and nod as he gets back into position once more. He sees the way you bring your hand close to your face, shutting one eye to try to aim, tongue slightly poking out in concentration before you toss the candy across a few feet of distance. 

Jungkook doesn’t even register that the candy successfully landed in his mouth until you’re gasping in shock. That’s when his eyes widen, his mouth shutting as he begins to chew, standing up straight and feeling his heart start to warm at how proud you look at having beat him. He closes the distance between you, extending a hand out for a high five that you gladly give him. 

Now that you’re closer, you see all the sprinkles of sugar on his face. It dusts along his cheekbones and the top of his nose, looking like small freckles on his skin. You give him an endearing smile as you cup his face and swipe it away from his skin. You do it without thinking really, tips of your fingers gently flicking away the evidence of your tiny prank. 

Jungkook’s chest tightens at the soft gesture, eyes wide as he watches you, too scared to move, almost like it would startle you or make you come to your senses and remember he was a Six. He chooses to just focus on how soft your hand feels against his cheek, how sweet you sound when you say he looks like a mess, your eyes filled with what he hopes is the same adoration he has as you look up at him, a lot closer than you need to be.

Jungkook knows all the sugar is gone now but you’re still there, thumb rubbing along his cheek, tracing the scar under his eye while your gaze lands on the piercing on his lip. He holds his breath when you look up at him once more, and maybe it's his wishful thinking but he swears the way you look at him tells him to make a move, so he does. Slowly at first, wanting to give you a chance to deny his advances, but you meet his lips before he can close the distance himself.

The innocence is gone now. Jungkook had felt something brewing with each of your interactions, chalking it off to pure friendliness, but he knows a small spark had been lit the second you started speaking to each other. 

The kiss burns, the guilt and betrayal to his club clawing at his mind but he doesn't care, welcoming it as he deepens it, sliding his hand into your hair and focusing on the way you let out a soft breath as he does so. It makes your mind spin, your hands gently looping around his neck to bring him closer. You don’t have time to think, too enveloped in the way his piercing feels against your lips, how his fingers softly rake through your hair, how he takes a deep breath when you kiss him back harder. 

It's brief, a small moment of weakness led by temptation, but you can’t deny how you both feel exhilarated, wide eyes and smiles on your faces when you pull back. "You taste like candy," you giggle.

“Your favorite,” he mumbles, still close enough to nudge the tip of his nose along yours. His voice is low as he lets reality settle, slowly inching back, his eyes meeting yours and seeing the small clouds of panic start to form around you. Reality seems to be hitting you too, fear of what would happen to him if Minho ever found out, or what would happen to you if he even had an inkling. A small harmless crush had just passed over into dangerous territory. 

“Hey,” Jungkook starts softly, hand gently coming to rest on your shoulder to bring you back to the present. “It doesn’t have to mean anything.”

“No, but it does,” you groan. It did mean something, it didn’t matter how small it seemed, but you know the kiss meant something. Your small panic had nothing to do with being unfaithful, you knew Minho cheated on you with any girls who were willing to show their loyalty to the club, and if it kept him off of you then you didn’t mind it. You were scared to put Jungkook in danger. “It means something and my boyfriend’s crazy, he’ll kill both of us if he finds out.”

“I know he is.” He shrugs, looking directly at you, seeing the shocked look on your face at his admission. 

“You know what?” you whisper. 

“I know he’s a psycho. I kind of put two and two together when you mentioned a boyfriend. It is Minho right?” When you nod slowly, still unsure how to respond he just continues speaking. “But look, I know. All of it. I know I’m not supposed to be speaking to you, let alone kissing you and enjoying it, but it happened. I know it’s wrong, that I should feel bad and I don’t, but I also know where my loyalties lie within the club and what rules I’m willing to bend. If you’re saying it means something, then it does.”

You can only stare at him, feeling the clouds of panic start to fade. “But I'm telling you, I know what's at risk and I won’t be using it to harm you.”

“I mean…it is both our asses on the line,” you mumble out, still feeling his hand on your shoulder. He smiles at your words now, making you slowly smile back. 

“So, we’re taking it to our graves?” His voice is light again, the playful tone you were used to back. When you nod he smiles wider. “Cool, should we kiss on it?”

Jungkook laughs when you shove his shoulder with a cackle, rolling your eyes as you step back, walking back into the bodega to get what you came for. “You’re so unserious. Get away from me.”

The issue with this imaginary line being crossed is that it leaves you thinking “what’s next”, constantly wondering just what else you could get away with. One kiss shared turns into two which turns into five, given so casually it feels like second nature. It seems like both of your guards have dropped now, more at ease with each other, touches getting as bold as they could in public. 

“Are you sure my skin isn’t gonna burn off?” you joke, laughing when Jungkook gives you an eye roll. His jacket is in his hands, shaking it off before he’s swinging it around your frame, helping you slide your arms into it. He had jokingly said it would swallow you whole, and you honestly just wanted an excuse to be closer to him so when he suggested you try it on you couldn’t deny him. 

“You might burst into flames, so just drop and roll baby.” He snickers when you playfully glare at him. Jungkook looks down at you with a smile, his hands smoothing the collar before he’s taking a step back to admire how the large leather jacket looked on you. The patches cover the arms and back, his first initial, last name and rank displayed over the left breast pocket, something your finger comes up to trace absentmindedly.  

“I don’t know, the jacket suits you. You sure you don’t wanna become a Six?”

“Very funny Jungkook. They’ll be putting a Cobra on my tombstone when I’m dead.” 

He waves you off, reaching into his pocket to pull out his phone. “Let me live in my fantasy world, yeah?”

“Your fantasy world involves me being a Six?” you giggle, looking up at him with a sly smile.

“Don’t kink shame me. Now smile for the picture,” he sings out, bending down as he extends his arm out, ready to take a selfie. You had yet to take photos of you both, too scared to be caught by Minho, but you allowed Jungkook to document your newly formed friendship as much as he wanted, knowing he had less to worry about when it came to snooping. 

Your arms wrap around him, the tombstone patch on display as you both smile widely for the picture. He looks at it with a cheeky grin, mumbling out how cute he thought it was before putting his phone away. 

“Do you need the usual for your run today?” he asks, knowing Minho always had you stocking up his alcohol. 

“Not today. I’m technically supposed to be locked inside our place. A few Cobra’s headed out of state this morning for a meeting.”

Jungkook hums, having briefly heard of an arms deal happening out of state, he just hadn’t been aware it was the Cobra’s doing. “Why didn’t you go with?”

“Too risky.” You lean back against the textured wall of the building, still cozy in his jacket. Minho loved to have you right by his side at all times, so if he said it was safer for you to stay here then you wouldn’t question him. “He has to make sure his prized possession stays safe.”

Jungkook laughs, slinging an arm around you and bringing you to his side obnoxiously. “Well you tell him I have that covered.”

“Jungkook, he’d cut your tongue out. Stop it!” you cackle. 

“I’d like to see him fucking try,” he grunts out, enjoying the way you playfully swat at him. He’d like to think he could have Minho’s head served on a silver platter if he ever got close enough to put his hands on him. 

“What about you? Any fun club plans after our playdate?”

Jungkook sighs, a smile still on his face. “Nope. I’m officially clocked out.” Your laugh is felt against his side, only making his smile widen. “I just have to stop by the clubhouse to grab something before heading home.”

“How far is the clubhouse from here?” You’re looking up at him with a twinkle in your eye, your smile still as sweet as can be, but he senses some undertone that he hopes he isn’t imagining. 

“Not far, about 20 minutes. Why? You want a tour?”

That was all he had to ask before you were following his bike down the busy streets on his side of town. His jacket is still on you, providing you with a small sense of security, knowing if anyone spotted you they’d assume you were with him. It leaves you at ease, entering the secure lot of his clubhouse, coming to a stop beside him and glancing around as you take off your helmet. 

It’s empty, a few cars parked around that looked like they were in need of repair, but no other bikes or lingering people. Jungkook steps off his bike, motioning for you to follow him, excited at showing you his favorite place. 

As you follow his lead you instantly see how different Deep Six’s clubhouse is compared to the Cobras. The space is taken care of, decorated thoughtfully, a space made for business as well as hanging out with their friends and families. Touches of the club are nestled around, a large Harley on display on a far wall, a frame showing the timeline and evolution of their patch tucked between other photos, and the most obvious and slightly obnoxious ode to the club comes in the gallery wall displaying all of their mugshots. Cute. 

“It’s nothing fancy,” he mumbles, spreading his arms out as he stands in the middle of the main room. A brown tufted leather couch is right behind him, a giant pool table behind it and a fully loaded bar to the right. 

“Compared to ours it sure is.” The Cobra’s clubhouse was made for business only, the meeting room was kept in pristine condition while the rest of it was only made to be nice enough to house drunken members and whatever hangouts were in the process of joining. 

“Really?” When you nod he just frowns, approaching you to grab your hand and pull you along, trying to show you more. “I’ll show you my space.”

“Your space?” you wonder, smiling when he squeezes your palm lightly, leading you down a hall to the right. A few doors line both walls, different ranks tacked on the middle of them, coming to a stop in front of one that says Road Captain. You had never really paid attention to his rank on his jacket, never really caring to read anyone’s rank in general, but seeing it displayed on this door let you know just how deep his involvement in his club was. 

“Only ranked members get private rooms.” He sounds almost bashful as he says this, grinning before opening up the door and switching on the light. A desk is on the right, paperwork neatly stacked in piles, a dresser is along the other wall with pictures tacked onto a cork board right above it. His bed is in the middle, sheets a dark gray and neatly made. It’s nestled between two windows on either side, letting in the slowly setting sunlight. 

You step into the room, walking to the dresser to look at the photos he has tacked up. He looks younger in some of these, hair messier and longer, no piercing or tattoos yet as he leans on his bike, another member attempting to put him in a headlock. They’re all club photos for the most part, the only one standing out is a photo of a teenage looking Jungkook holding up a diploma with what you can only assume is his parents beside him. 

“Cute,” you mumble out, smiling as you turn back to face him. It was odd to feel this calm around him, so used to the faint ticking heard in your head, reminding you that you were running on borrowed time, forced to interact in small bursts. With Minho completely occupied, the ticking disappears, allowing you to fully enjoy the moment for what it was. 

“I didn’t expect you to be sentimental like this,” you tease, smiling at the way his eyes narrow at you as he approaches, his tongue poking at his cheek as he fights a smile. 

“I’m full of surprises,” he murmurs, standing a foot away from you now, peering down at you with an aura of playfulness surrounding him. Your hands reach out to gently play with the material of his shirt, tugging him even closer. Jungkook could feel the tension, the same slowly growing tension that had been brewing with each day spent together. He can only watch as your hands slowly trail up his stomach, gliding up to gingerly rest against his chest. 

He wanted to kiss you, wanted to feel you gasp against his lips, but the last thing he wanted to do was make you feel like he had suggested showing you his clubhouse to be a total sleaze. Jungkook knew the line had grown blurry, kisses and touches shared with ease, but he wasn’t bold enough to assume you’d be okay with taking anything further. So when you decide to make the first move, leaning up to ghost your lips over his own, he can only hold his breath, eyes fluttering shut when you softly press them together. 

Your hands rest on his shoulders now, holding yourself steady as you kiss him, feeling the way his body melts into it. You pull away with a soft smack of your lips, inching back slightly. “What other surprises do you have?” 

Jungkook holds in a groan when you start to pepper kisses on the corner of his mouth, trailing them down his jaw, gently nipping the skin of his throat right below his ear. You giggle when he shudders, his hands gripping your waist, fingers tightening around you. 

“If you let me, I can show you.” His voice holds a tinge of unsureness, wanting for you to be okay with this without sounding pushy. But Jungkook had been thinking of this since your first kiss so he couldn’t help the desperate tone laced between each syllable. 

“Show me. Show me whatever you want,” you whisper, hand coming up to cup his cheek, looking up at him through your lashes. When his eyes meet yours he finally lets his resolve crack, attaching your lips once more in a heated kiss, finally feeling you gasp against him. 

Jungkook is a little ashamed to admit how easily this was affecting him, his heart already racing in his chest, stomach fluttering with each shared moan, bulge growing in his jeans when your hand slips into his hair and pulls. His hands slide down the material of his jacket you have on, pulling it off your body and tossing it aside without a care. He feels you smile against his lips at the action, clearly enjoying the way his hands roam along your body, desperate to touch you in ways he wasn’t able to before. 

It’s an eager dance to his bed, blindly stepping back as he guides you to it until your knees buckle against the mattress, giggling as you flop onto it. Your arm rests back to hold you steady, other hand gripping onto his shirt to yank him back over you, reattaching your lips in a heated kiss. 

Jungkook laughs into the kiss, his arm wrapping around you to haul you further up the bed properly, slowly pushing you back until you’re flat against the bed. His body settles over you, the cute visual of his hair framing his face is the first thing you see when your eyes flutter open as he pulls back. His eyes are hooded as he stares at you, his hand coming up to gently cradle your jaw, thumb rubbing along your bottom lip as he smirks before dipping back down. 

He kisses the corner of your mouth, following the same trail you had left on him earlier, smiling against your skin when you shudder as he nips your neck. Slowly, his hands slide down your body, fingers toying with the hem of your shirt and tugging it up to reveal your stomach. 

“Can I take this off?” he mumbles, eyes peering up at you for confirmation. When you breathe out a yes, he slides it further up, helping you slip out of your shirt fully before you’re settling on your back again. A thin bralette covers your boobs, lacey cups revealing a glimmer on your nipples that has him tilting his head in curiosity. 

You catch what he’s looking at, smile spreading on your lips as you reach up to touch his jaw, finger gently tapping along the small mole he has below his lips. “I’m full of surprises too,” you mumble, smiling wider when he boldly cups your chest, thumb swiping at your pierced nipple through the lace. 

“I can see that,” he mumurs, voice low and raspy, making your stomach flip. He looks at you once more, brow cocking up in question as his fingers toy with the fabric. You nod your head, knowing what he wanted, allowing him to slip the straps off your shoulders before he’s sliding a palm under your back to properly unclasp your bra, giving himself the perfect view. 

Its hard to ignore the small burst of confidence that surges through you when he groans, eyes hooded while he leans down to pepper kisses down your chest. It had been such a long time since you’ve felt truly desired, since you’ve been kissed delicately, had hands touch your skin so gently it tickles and leaves you breathing out a laugh. So you relish in it. You shut your eyes and enjoy the way Jungkook presses wet kisses to your skin, you let yourself gasp in pleasure when he wraps his lips around your pierced nipple and sucks. 

Your hands instinctively slip through his hair, fingers yanking his thick strands as he hums against your skin, tongue flicking along the piercing. Jungkook feels the way you jut your chest further out, back arching at the sensation. A deep groan escapes you as his palm comes up to cup your other breast, the cool feeling of his rings sending a shiver down your spine. 

He smiles as he pulls back, cocky with eyes twinkling with mischief as his fingers playfully dance down your body. 

His eyes are locked with yours as his fingers reach the waistband of your jeans, teasingly dipping past it as he lifts a brow in question. He needed clear boundaries, not wanting to cross any lines. You find it cute, how despite the fact that you’re laying here, chest heaving with anticipation, eyes surely wild with desire, he’s still wanting to make sure. 

“Can I?” He repeats his earlier question, features soft as he waits for your answer. 

“We need to even out the playing field first Six,” you tease, smiling when he chuckles and points to his shirt. You nod, staring up at him from the bed as he kneels up, staring right at you as he reaches behind his neck and yanks the shirt off of his body. 

Your blood warms up further at the sight of him, seeing his muscles flex under his tattoos as he straightens back up. Jungkook tilts his head slightly, biting on his lip ring as he fights back the smile at your clear admiration. The black marks his skin, some tattoos looking darker than others, showing you just which ones were recent additions. 

The owl on his chest looks the brightest, edges still crisp, shading looking rich in the skulls beneath each wing. They seem to move as Jungkook takes a breath, snapping you out of it as you look back into his eyes. 

“Is this even enough for you?” he jokes, smiling wide when you nod in confirmation, your eyes following his movements as his hand returns to your jeans. You watch with bated breath as he unbuttons the top, slowly pulling down the zipper before his hands hook into the waistband and starts to tug. Your hips lift from the bed to help, allowing him to pull them off, tossing them to the side along with your shoes and socks. 

You can feel your stomach flipping with nerves, the worry of doing something new with someone new, the small clouds of insecurity rolling in, wondering if you looked good in this angle, if maybe Jungkook preferred you to look a certain way or wear cute underwear with bows on the front instead of the black regular cotton ones you currently have on. 

It all settles down as he drops lowers, eyes looking up at you as he presses kisses onto your hips and slowly tugs your underwear down, clearly not paying any mind to them. A trail of goosebumps blossom down your thighs, following your underwear as he pulls them off too. He stands up once more, eyes swimming with want as he sees you. 

“Let me get a good look at you,” he murmurs when he notices the way your arms begin to want to cover yourself up at being fully exposed. He thinks it's cute how shy you seem now, eyes bouncing away from his as he takes his time drinking you in. With your eyes diverted, he thinks it's a great time to dive in, his hands coming down to grip your palms while his face nudges its way into the crook of your neck to kiss your skin, smiling at the way you gasp and laugh at the ticklish feeling

“Jungkook!” you giggle, feeling his hands pin your own down on the bed, his mouth traveling down your body as he guides your hands into his hair, letting you know he wants you to keep playing with the strands. Your finger twirls his hair around, feeling him smile against your skin as he descends once more. 

“Everything about you is so pretty,” he mumbles into your stomach, eyes peering up at you while his hands return to your hips, slowly sliding down to your thighs to grip the flesh. Wet kisses smack into your skin, leaving a trail on each hip and down your thigh until he’s suddenly biting. He laughs when you gasp, your fingers tugging his hair on instinct when you look down with a shocked expression. 

“Looked so good you had to take a bite?” you joke, smiling down at him, feeling the fluttering in your stomach when he winks. 

“Oh I need more than just a bite,” he groans, fingers tightening their hold on your thighs before he presses a kiss directly onto your mound, slowly sticking his tongue out to gently flick along your slit. 

Jungkook loves the way your breath gets shaky as you exhale, a soft moan of his name reaching his ears when he gently parts your folds and teasingly flicks against your clit. A part of him knows this might be the one and only time he’ll ever get to experience you like this, the only time he’ll see you flush on his bed, gasping for more as your hips roll into him. So he wants to store every moment in his brain, keep it locked away until the next time he misses you. 

“Fuck Jungkook, that feels good,” you moan, fingers locked in his hair, keeping him close as he ravishes you. The praise makes his ego grow, lips wrapping around your clit and sucking with the perfect amount of pressure. It makes your stomach tense, short little zaps of electricity flowing through your body with each flick of his tongue. 

“Good, I just wanna make you feel good.” He leans back a bit, admiring the look of your sodden folds for a moment before he's letting a glob of spit drip from his mouth directly onto your clit. He bites his lip as his fingers spread it around, coating his digits as he circles your entrance. His eyes meet yours again, brow raised in question, smiling when you nod in response. Slowly, he pushes forward, eyes focused on your reaction, seeing the way you bite down on your lip as his finger sinks in. 

Jungkook tries not to let his mind get carried away when he feels your walls fluttering around his digit, already imagining how you would feel around him, feeling his cock aching in his jeans as he sinks a second finger in to properly stretch you out. With each thrust of his fingers his mind wanders further, the need to see you falling apart leading his mouth back onto you, the combining sensation making you moan louder. 

The stretch of his fingers has your head spinning, eyes falling shut as you mewl on his sheets, fingers raking through his hair. “More Jungkook, please,” you whimper, not able to get enough of him. 

The desperation lacing your voice makes Jungkook’s heart flutter, ready to comply with anything you want. He moans against your folds, a third finger adding to the delicious stretch. The wet clicks of his fingers thrusting into your drenched pussy fill the room, and it's the greed living inside of Jungkook that makes him want to thrust into you faster, make it so that all you can hear is the sound of your pleasure. 

Your breath hitches in your throat when he curves his fingers upwards, tickling the sweet spot that makes your eyes roll. That’s when you feel the familiar cool sensation of his rings once more. You were used to feeling them on your arms when he playfully pulled you around, used to the feeling of them on your cheeks when he gripped your face before kissing you, but feeling them against your cunt each time he thrust his fingers forward, it made your body burn up with lust. There was something about having the name of a club you were told to stay far away from pressed against you salaciously that only made the waves of pleasure you feel crash over you even harder. 

“Mm, close Jungkook,” you whine, your free hand sliding up your body to tug and pinch at your nipples. Jungkook peers up at you from between his thighs and the visual of you playing with yourself while he ate you out has him making a mess in his underwear. He doesn’t even care how easy it is for you to make him this needy, knowing you were enjoying yourself because of him was all that mattered. 

“Wanna feel you baby,” he mutters out, lips shiny with your arousal, fingers scissoring inside of you, feeling the way your walls tighten around him. Your hands grip his hair tighter, making him hiss, a breathy laugh hitting your messy folds when you guide his mouth back onto you. 

Jungkook knows you’re right on the edge, the craving for your release making you arch your back, moans of his name slurring together with pleas for more more. All it takes is a few more flicks of his tongue for your climax to crest, the prettiest moan he’s ever heard reaching his ears as you gush around his fingers. 

“There you go, good girl,” he groans, pulling back as he licks his lips, staring at your trembling body with eyes swimming with lust. His thumb replaces his mouth, rubbing your swollen clit, enjoying the way you writhe at the slight overstimulation. 

“Ah, ‘Guk,” you whimper. And the new nickname has him smiling, loving the way it sounds coming from you so much he almost doesn’t want to stop. It takes your small hands coming down to grip his wrist for him to finally pull away, your soft giggles of enjoyment coming to a halt when he slips his fingers into his mouth. 

“Told you I needed more than just a bite,” he teases, making an absolute show of licking his fingers. “What about you, are you satisfied?”

You lift yourself up with one arm, the other reaching forward to grip his belt loop, tugging him closer as you look up at him through your lashes. “Mm, no I don’t think I am.” His abs tense when your finger trails along his skin, toying with the button on his jeans, slowly popping them open and pulling down the zipper. 

“Then I need to fix that,” he mumbles, tongue flicking his lip ring as he stares down at you, watching the way you reach down to palm at his bulge. Your face lights up at his words, a smile spreading on your face as he helps you tug down his jeans, obviously eager. Jungkook’s smirk only deepens when your eyes widen once you finally release his cock, a small gasp escaping you at the size of him. 

Pearly beads of precum collect at his tip, swollen and aching for your touch, so when you finally grasp his length and swipe your thumb along the bulbous tip he lets out a deep groan that has your core clenching. 

“Fuck, babe.” He grunts when your palm starts to slide up and down, his eyes focused on the way you slowly inch forward, your tongue peeking out to gently lick his tip. Jungkook knows he’s in trouble, already feeling his body react to your touch. All you had done was give him a few teasing touches and his mind was already spinning. Its an inner battle as he watches you take more of him into your mouth, his jaw dropping at the warm feeling, hands clenching by his side when you moan at the taste of him. 

“Y/N,” he groans, “you’re gonna make me cum too fast.” You pop off of him with a wet smack, a saccharine smile on your lips as you giggle. 

“And that’s a bad thing?” Your head tilts as you question him, hand still lazily pumping his length. 

“It is when I want to fuck you first.” That makes your hand finally stop, brows raising in interest. Your free hand slides up his body, carefully cupping his face, guiding him down to kiss you. 

“Then fuck me, Jungkook. I’m yours,” you murmur against his lips, feeling him groan against you as he kisses you harder. You know what you mean. You’re his for the night, despite how strong your connection with him is, the reality was that as long as Minho had his claws sunk into you, there would never be a chance for you and Jungkook to delve deeper into this relationship. But this tiny bubble you were both in was enough for you. 

The energy is different than what you’re used to, the both of you smiling through the kisses, soft words whispered against skin as you help him take off his jeans. Jungkook’s laugh is infectious when you gasp at the sight of his thighs, the double headed wolf tattoo catching your attention immediately, praising it under your breath before he’s kissing you once more, telling you he’ll let you properly see it later as his hands grope your sides. 

“How do you want me?” you mumble, gently nipping his lip. 

“If it was my way I’d have you in every position I could think of. You tell me, baby.” If Jungkook let his selfish desires take over, he’d tell you he wanted you to ride him, let you bounce on top of him and use him while he got to watch your pretty face. But he can’t be that selfish, even if the small pestering voice in his head tells him that this might be his only chance to. Still, his eyes are soft as he pulls back, ringed hand caressing your face with a tenderness that makes your heart clench

“Can I ride you?” Your voice is timid, just above a whisper, but it makes Jungkook shut his eyes and groan. You see, he wasn’t corny, didn’t believe in fate or anything like that, but for a brief moment Jungkook's convinced this was meant to be. 

“Fuck,” he groans, leaning forward to rest his forhead against yours. “Yes, please.”

The way he begs makes your pussy ache, hips instinctively rolling up into his, enjoying the way he hisses, rutting his cock against your inner thigh. The beads of precum leak off his tip, leaving a small puddle by your hip, smeared around as he repeats the action. 

“O-okay,” you gasp, biting down on your lip as you peek at the visual, trying not to get lost in the way he teases himself. “Let me ‘Guk, wanna feel you.”

He nods, tendrils of hair tickling your face as he kisses you again before leaning back. You try not to stare but it's so hard when he looks like that, length hard and bobbing as he rummages through the drawer by his bed, a sheepish smile on his lips when he plucks out a shiny square packet. 

Your heart races in your chest as you sit up, coming onto your knees and crawling to the head of the bed, gently patting the space next to you. Jungkook’s quick to settle beside you, back leaning against the small headboard, large hands reaching to grab your hips and hoist you over his thighs. A small laugh escapes you at being manhandled, the toned muscles of his thighs felt underneath you, his cock poking at your belly from your proximity. 

Your eyes are glued to it, watching in awe as he pulls out the condom and carefully rolls it on, a small sigh meeting your ears. 

“Can’t wait to feel you,” you whisper, pressing a kiss to his jaw, your hand meeting his around his cock as you lift your hips just enough. His free hand finds your hip again as you guide his tip to your entrance, teasingly circling it, slipping the tip inside for a second before popping it back out, the two of you gasping at the feeling. 

“Mm, sit on it,” he groans, brows pinched together as he nudges his nose into your neck. Wet kisses mark your skin, his hand getting tighter on your hip when you repeat the action again before finally sinking further down. Your walls clench around him, the stretch making you whine. You had seen his size, knowing just how big he was, but now that he’s inside of you and you feel it, you pace yourself. 

It's unintentionally torturous, the warm tightness slowly enveloping more of him and all he could do was clench his jaw and grip you harder. Jungkook is patient, fighting every urge he has to thrust up or sit you down fully. Instead he murmurs praises into your skin, tells you how good you feel, how good you’re doing, that you’re almost there until you’re butt rests flush against his thighs. 

A shuddering breath hits his shoulder, your face coming up to stare at him properly now. He’s staring at you with hooded eyes, mouth slightly opened as he gasps when your walls flutter. 

“So big,” you mumble, kissing him gently, lips ghosting over his, hips slowly lifting an inch before coming back down. 

“I know, baby. Take your time.” He groans, kissing you harder, teeth clicking together in his haste, breathing into each other. Jungkook felt like he was dreaming, some sick fantasy teasing him while he slept, giving him a taste of you before reality would settle in and snatch it all away. But you don’t usually feel this way in his dreams, don’t dig your nails into his shoulder as you quicken your pace, your wetness dripping down his cock and pooling at the base. And Jungkook is glad that he prefers reality over his dreams for once. 

“Oh god ‘Guk,” you moan, skin slapping together with each rise and fall of your hips. His lips are coated in a sheen of spit, swollen from your kisses and gentle bites, but he gives you a smile, clearly enjoying your reaction to him. 

“Does it feel good baby?” he murmurs, voice deep and raspy at the edges, his hand sliding up your thighs, pressing into your tummy with a tilt to his head. “Feel nice and full?”

You shudder at his question, feeling the pressure of his palm, and you swear you can feel the tip of his cock nudging into it. “Y-yes, so good, so full. Just wanna fuck you forever.”

He hums, feeling your words deep inside of him. It makes him melt into the headboard, hand traveling further up until he has a handful of your tits in them. Jungkook plays with them a bit, finger pinching and twisting the hard buds, tugging gently at the silver bar, hearing you moan at the sensation. 

“You can fuck me whenever you want,” he grunts at a particular drop of your hips, the wetness aiding in your pace. 

“Really?”

“Mhm,” he groans, thumb rolling along your nipple, softly rutting up into you. “Just text me whenever you want it. Pretty face, delicious pussy, I’ll always be here for you.”

“You’re such a romantic,” you giggle, throwing your head back as you get lost in the motion. Jungkook laughs with you, arm scooping around your back to pull you closer, his mouth kissing up and down your neck, teeth grazing the surface with the urge to suck but he knows better. 

“Just for you,” he breathes into your skin, feeling you laugh again. 

It feels like nothing else matters, not the potential consequences to this, no worry about what this meant for your special friendship. All that matters is that Jungkook is grabbing you like he can’t get enough of you, kissing you like his life depends on it, not shy at all at vocalizing how good it all feels. 

“Wanna cum,” you gasp, cupping his face, seeing the way he focuses on your lips as you speak. 

“Yeah? Tell me what you need.” He bends his knees slightly, pressure on his heels as he fucks up into you. The jiggle of your tits makes his mouth water, caught in a daze. 

“Need you to touch me.” It's the softest plea, tone dripping and needy, making Jungkook nod immediately. He bites his lip as he trails a hand up your chest, over your neck until he’s cupping your jaw, his thumb rubbing along your lower lip. With a gentle tap, you’re opening up, eyes locked together as you wrap your lips around the digit and suck, giving him a teasing bite as he tries to pull it out. 

He smiles at you, bringing down his soaked thumb in between your bodies until it reaches home directly onto your clit. The sudden touch makes you gasp, bundle of nerves swollen and sensitive, and its almost too much. But he’s gentle, easing you into the feeling, only applying more pressure when you finally relax, falling back into the delicious rhythm you have going. 

Jungkook can feel the coil tightening inside of him with each pulse of your pussy, walls clamping around him on each lift, making an absolute mess as the arousal drips onto his balls. 

“More?” He quickens his finger, circling your clit faster, paying close attention to your reaction. 

“Oh, fuck. No, like that. Just like that.” So he does, jaw dropped open as he watches you get lost in it all, bouncing on top of him as fast as you wanted, using him just like he wanted. Your thighs burn but it feels too good to think about stopping, the beginning signs of your orgasm licking at your skin, encouraging you to fuck him faster. You can hear how messy you’re leaving him, the squelch of your pussy blending in with the moans and thumping of the headboard. 

“Close, fuck—ah,” you stutter and gasp, brows pinched together tightly, only able to stare at him as you start to fall apart. He looks at you in awe, breathing in time with you, matching each gasp and moan, thumb slipping around in your slick. It's the accidental flick of his that has you tumbling over the edge, nearly shrieking out his name as your high comes barreling at you. 

Jungkook curses under his breath as you tremble above him. Your hand curls into his hair, yanking him forward into a messy kiss as you moan unabashedly, his thumb continuing to flick along your puffy clit for another minute to work you through it before he’s clutching onto your hips and controlling your speed. You’re still twitching at the aftershocks, small sparks kissing your skin and leaving you in a comfortable haze as you tangle your tongue with his, pulling back with a smile so sweet. 

“I wanna see you cum Jungkook,” you kiss him again, teasing him as you pull away and watch him chase you for more. “Made me feel so good, want you to cum for me.”

Jungkook groans, nodding as he wraps his arm around you, pushing off the headboard until the air is whooshing around you and your back is meeting the sheets once more. He cages you in easily, arms under your back, cradling your head as he buries his face into your neck and surges his hips into you. 

Your breath leaves you at the change in position, legs wrapping around his hips, shuddering as his pelvis nudges your sensitive clit. He doesn’t care how desperate he looks, fucking you like he was starved of affection, the need to cum taking over all of his senses. 

“Fuck, you’re so hot.” Your nails dig into his back, scratching along his skin, making him groan into your ear. His thrusts grow more sporadic, shallow, losing their grace as your purposefully clench around him. 

“Oh shit, you’re gonna make me cum.” He whines, voice breathy against your neck, and you swear you’ll cum again. 

“Yeah? Cum for me, c’mon,” you whisper, grazing his back and tightening your walls again. He nods against you before he’s leaning back, giving you the view you so sweetly asked for. His thick brows are furrowed on his forehead, eyes heady with lust, and a deep groan of your name spilling past his lips as he cums. Your feet urge him closer as his hips stutter, rutting into you to milk his orgasm as he fills up the condom. 

The room falls quiet for a moment, the both of you catching your breath, hearts slowing down as the high settles over your bones. And then he’s laughing, flopping back over you and tightening his hold on your body. 

“Why are you laughing?” You giggle too, hands running through his hair as you smile in a love sick daze. 

“I don’t think I’ve ever came that hard,” he admits sheepishly, kissing your warm skin, leaning back with a childish smile as he kisses your nose and ever so slowly starts to pull out of you. The sound is filthy, core sensitive and messy, and when he fully pulls out you can’t help but close your legs. 

He simply laughs, hand softly rubbing at your calves before he’s getting up and disposing of the condom. 

You’re still in that same foggy haze from earlier, even as Jungkook returns with a damp cloth to clean you up, all you can do is hum in thanks as you melt into his sheets. It doesn’t take long for him to settle in beside you again, holding you close, hand tickling the skin of the thigh you have hooked over his hip. 

“You have such pretty legs.” It’s a soft compliment, almost like it wasn’t meant to escape him. But when you look at him with a sincere smile he continues. “If you were mine I’d beg you to wear skirts all the time just so I could stare at them, touch them—“ he grips your thighs playfully, smiling at your laugh, “I’d be able to flick it up so easily and fuck you in it.”

Your laugh is louder now, your hand playfully swatting at his chest at how quick he was to get raunchy. 

If you were mine. 

That phrase repeats in your mind, sounding like a sweet song that you’d never get tired of hearing. 

“I’ll wear one at the meet next week,” you promise, running your hand over his chest. You knew you’d be seeing him there, able to freely ogle at him with all the neighboring clubs gathered together in an attempt to keep the peace. You might not be able to interact like you usually do, but just seeing him was enough. 

Just as he’s about to reply, the sound of a familiar engine cuts the air. You freeze instantly, wide eyes staring at Jungkook, seeing the confused look on his face. He lifts a hand up, motioning for you to stay as he sits up straighter, ears perking up when he hears the front door of the clubhouse open up. 

“Stay here. They won’t come in here but I know they saw my bike so I’ll get rid of them.” You can only nod as he hurries into his clothes, buttoning his jeans in a haste and deciding to forgo his shirt and shoes as he all but runs out of the room, shutting the door behind him. 

The haze you felt earlier is long gone, anxiety settling into your bones once more, realizing just what sort of situation you were in. Jungkook seemed to think the golden rule of staying away from Cobras was fine with you, but who knows just what kind of loyalty the Six member in the other room holds. 

All you needed was one man hell bent on loyalty to come barging in, and you don’t even want to think of what would become of you. Your heart rattles in your chest as you sit up too, eyes glancing around the room to find your pile of clothes. 

You can hear them mumbling in the main room, Jungkook’s laughter sounding out as he jokes around with his fellow brother. You can only imagine what he’s telling him, maybe explaining why theres a second bike parked next to his, or giving his reason for being shirtless and disheveled at the clubhouse this late in the day. Whatever is going on, you know you shouldn’t wait around to see how it plays out. Being with Jungkook makes reality pause, fade away and leave you to believe that things were meant to be this easy. 

But that's not your reality. 

You knew you wanted this to happen, could still feel the butterflies in your stomach as you remember the way he kissed your skin. But you couldn’t let the line be crossed this far again. You’re not sure karma would be too kind to you the next time. 

As quiet as you can, you slip out of bed, carefully putting your clothes back on and looking at the desk in the corner. Before you overthink it, you grab the pen and notepad he has resting on top of paperwork, scribbling out a quick note before you’re returning to his bedside, yanking up the curtains and wiggling the window open to slip out. 

Back in the main room, Jungkook is sitting on the bar stool, Hoseok resting against the counter as they both joke around. Jungkook is thankful that Hoseok doesn’t seem to ask too many questions, knowing very well that he must have some girl in the room, but he wasn’t nosey enough to want to know who. 

“So you’re not gonna introduce your friend?” he jokes, giving Jungkook a coy smile, enjoying the way his younger friend blushes and shoves his shoulder. 

“No you weirdo, you fucking scared her by showing up like this. Why the hell are you here anyway?”

Hoseok cackles, pushing away from the counter and walking towards the meeting room. “Sorry, I didn't mean to be a cockblock. I forgot to grab some paperwork.” The way he says it makes it seem like it was work documents, contracts that needed to be signed instead of files detailing the amount of guns they’d be receiving in the next drop. He disappears into the room, returning a few moments later with the folder in his hand. “I’ll be out of your hair now.”

And he does just that, waving goodbye and stepping back outside. But as he approaches his bike he realizes the bike he had seen next to Jungkook’s was missing now. 

Jungkook is none the wiser as he walks back to his room, a smile on his face that falls when he doesn’t see you on the bed. The sheets are a mess, your clothes are missing, his curtains are drawn up and his window remains cracked open. He steps closer now, a white sheet of paper catching his attention on his desk. 

Thanks for the tour, I think your room might be my favorite<3 Remember, we take this to our graves. We’ll kiss on it over sour straws soon x

Ps. I’ll see you at the meet, I’ll be the one in the short skirt. 

Maybe it's the sick hopefulness he feels in his chest, but Jungkook can’t help but smile as he thinks this won’t be the last time afterall.

[just-some-random-blogger]

Snow Angel

Aemond's Version

I'll angel in the snow until I'm worthy but if it kills me, I tried.

Gwyane's Version ❄ Daemon's Version ❄ Aegon's Version ❄ Aemond's Version ❄ Jacaerys' Version ❄ Cregan's Version ❄ Criston's Version

Aemond Targaryen x Targaryen!Reader | 800< | cw: fem!reader, twin!reader, targcest, canon divergence, angst, violence, blood, war, death, typos, etc.

A/N: renee rapp my beloved. aemond and jacaerys' version go hand in hand

You were the blood in his veins. You were the half of him that shined. You were everything good about the him. He despised you for it.

You were the understanding he never got, the confidence he wished he had. You were the inspiration of laughter and the admiration of all. While in the womb, you robbed him of all the characteristics he wished he had, and he never forgave you for doing so.

So, when tensions were high, and the call of war was nigh, he knew it was his moment to prove himself, to everyone, to himself, to the council... to you.

He'd long forgotten when, was it when he saw you laughing with those bastard Strong boys, or was it when he'd been mockingly gifted a pig by his own brother, but he'd convinced himself that he would have to slay dragons in order to have you. It was no longer a metaphor but something that very well happen, something real and life threatening.

He'd held himself into an impossible standard, along the way, unknowingly done the same to you.

While he was so wrapped up in his self-mandated torment, he gazed upon you only with his missing eye, unable to see how much you wished to free him from his internal conflict. Yet every time you reached a hand out to him, he met you with scorn, taking out his anger on you. You felt the only way you could ever get through to him was to make yourself useful.

You did not care for politics. You did not care to make the Iron Throne your seat at the table. You wanted nothing to do with the burden your festered father left. But you did want to avoid war, as you saw how it hurt your sister, your mother, your people. Aemond saw the way you influenced your brother away from war as a sign of weakness, seven hells, as another slight against him. You were choosing to spare the enemy because of his wretched nephew, Jacaerys, who had always held your affections.

And when you walked in on him and Criston during their late night conspiring, you only further stoked his ire.

Dare you come to his quarters in nothing but a nightgown and a robe?

"Princess," Criston stands to attention.

You cross your arms. It makes Aemond clench his jaw.

"I need to speak with my brother in private."

Aemond stares at you. Cristion turns to him, expecting some sort of response. He gets none, and so he decides to simply nod and leave, "of course."

Once he is gone, the prince finally speaks, "have you come to whore yourself out to me?"

You ignore his insult, "I've come to speak to you. This is the only hour you'll speak to me."

"Wrong," he snaps, "even now, I do not wish to. Leave me."

"Aemond," you mutter, "I only wish to help-"

"And who told you I need help from a woman?"

This is your final straw.

His eye widens at the way you fall apart in your hands. You sob, tears spilling into your palms. It had been long since he saw sorrow cloud your face, the last time being when Jacaerys and his family left King's Landing, Jacaerys, who you chose to speak your woes to instead of him.

He stands and cautiously walks towards you.

"I will never be good enough for you, will I?"

His face falls, "what?"

You shake your head and step back, "no matter what I can think of, it will not be worthy of your attention because I thought of it."

He is unable to speak, unable to move as you flee him.

His mind is heavy with your words as he flies on Vhagar the next day. He was told a dragon was spotted pressing close to King's Landing and took it upon himself to patrol the area.

You can imagine his surprise, no, his delight, when he saw the creature, when he recognized the dragon Vermax, saddled by his rider.

He did not hesitate. He commanded Vhagar to scorch him, gritting his teeth when they escaped.

He pursued them, eager to seek rid himself of his sole competitor.

But then a loud screech was heard from behind and Vhagar's tail was knocked, making her flight unsteady.

Two dragons? An organized attack. Fine, Vhagar is large enough to take two dragonlings at once.

Aemond ascends, looking for his opponents from the height. He spots Vermax green scales from afar. He hears the second dragon before seeing it come closer. He gives the command and Vhagar breathes fire before Aemond even identified who she attacked.

But then that creature makes a sound, and his mouth parts at the familiar screech. You circle around him, screaming something he cannot make out.

You choose the bastard over him?

He turns to Jacaerys. Vhagar flies over to attack.

He doesn't remember what happened after he gave the order. He was so single minded in his fury that the only thing that snapped him out of his trance was the sound of your scream and the sight of your dragon attempting to escape Vhagar's clamped jaw.

It was too late when he made Vhagar let go. You fell from the height and he could only watch. Not even Vermax coming to your aid could save you.

[tokoyamisstuff]

Delicate

Homelander x F! Reader

Summary: You and Homelander have been official for a while now, but you have yet to understand why things never went beyond a certain line.

Warnings: slight angst, slight manhandling, somnophilia, masturbation, explicit smut, praise kink, dirty talk, oral sex

A/N: not proofread as always bc I cringe at my own writing. take it or leave it

Homelander had never learned how to be gentle.

Of course he knew how to touch someone without breaking them if necessary, but there's limits to his self-restraint. Especially when it came to the intimate kind of encounter.

This sadistic side of his was an expression of his desperate need for control, an inability to truly let himself fall and be vulnerable with another person.

For decades his mantra was that normal humans only exist for supes' - and mostly his - entertainment. Your weakness was his thrill, the sheer difference in power so ridiculously high that you might as well be filthy bugs - and Homelander was like a cruel child with a magnifying glass.

Usually his mates were supes themselves and even they could barely handle his violent urges, but you are a mere human. So fragile and precious that it terrified him at times.

What if he loses control in the heat of the moment? What if he breaks you? Or even worse: What if you see him for the monster he really is and run away like everyone eventually does?

A while ago Homelander heard the story about Ice Princess' fling, some Vought employee nobody. She accidentally froze his penis off during climax. Hilarious, honestly. The first time he heard this story he had a very good laugh, and he still can't look that guy in the eye without cackling when he passes him in the hallways.

But now, being romantically involved with one of those weaklings himself, the possibility of something similar happening to you made his stomach turn...

...but of course, as Homelander always does, he chose to ignore the problem at hand instead of addressing it.

Why bother with an unpleasant conversation if he can just prolong this innocent, chaste bond for as long as possible? He'd rather have you like this than unnecessarily putting you into harm's way.

You on the other hand slowly but steadily grew impatient with your boyfriend.

At first you thought he was merely being chivalrous, but it's been three months and still nothing. He's famous, so you had involuntarily learned about his past affairs - and he's definetly not old-fashioned.

Then why is he hesitating so much?

Most of the time you don't dare talking about what's bothering you, simply because any issue of yours seemed so insignificant compared to the horrible things John's been through.

Admittedly, he once literally lasered a guy's head into mush just for throwing a can to his son's head. So while his reactions can be a bit unpredictable, John cares so deeply about the few people he loves that you want to spare him any more trouble.

Unhealthy way of handling things, admittedly.

Last week you had planned it all out: What you could only describe as the perfect date was supposed to continue in his apartment, and you could literally see all blood flow from his brain to nether regions as you entered the bedroom in finest lingerie.

Anyways, you had initiated several times up until now, and initially he'd always go along with it. However as soon as your make-out-sessions turn more heated, he'd abruptly end them and practically storm off.

Everything went so well at first, with you straddling his waist and tentatively grinding against his lap. His hands moved against his will as his resolve crumbled, finding the curves of your body and relishing in the feeling of your exposed skin under his gloves. His jaw clenched as he fought the urge to go all out, fearing dangerous consequences.

A proper dosage of pain can function as aphrodisiac, at least in your opinion. So you didn't tell him to stop, in fact your senses were too clouded by desire to even notice the way his fingers dug into the cushion of your hips.

Yet there was just the tiniest microexpression, just the fraction of a second where your heart sped up and your face contorted in pain...

...and Homelander, shocked with himself, threw you so frantically off of his lap, you landed face firsr on the floor instead of the bed.

Against all reasoning, you laughed hysterically at his not-so-subtle rejection, and god knows you'll tease him about it until forever. But also, understandably, on the inside you were as hurt and confused as never before.

Doesn't make it any better that your boyfriend had been avoiding you like you were the goddamn pest ever since.

Just like today, when Homelander comes home to you way past midnight, double checking with his x-ray-vision whether you were already fast asleep.

John was aware that this topic has been tormenting you for a while now, and while he never intended to hurt you - quite the opposite, really - he also clung to this pleasant illusion he had created with you.

Lucky at cards, unlucky in love, or so they say.

The course of his life had convinced him that all remotely good things happening to him will be taken away again. A farce prepared by destiny itself just to mock him, maybe evening out the scales since he had been blessed with too much power.

On days as shitty as this one however, nothing compares to having someone to come home to - even when he made sure that you weren't awake to confront him. He tosses his boots aside, grateful for you to be a sound sleeper as they fell to the floor with a loud thump.

Your boyfriend's heart sinks as he pulls up the blanket, being greeted by a handprint-shaped bruise on the side of your hip. Seems like it still hurts too much to sleep on that side. His fingertips run over the dark purple-ish mark, a pained groan escaping your throat when he gives in to the temptation to squeeze your ass.

He really is the worst.

Homelander freezes until he's certain you continue sleeping undisturbed, the sound of his own heart hammering against his chest drowning out all other noise. His palm is still lingering on your body, running up and down your sides and earning relieved sighs in return.

Before you'd feel his excitement too much, he manages to tear his body away from you, his erection twitching painfully as he rolled onto his back.

John really had pure intentions when he embraced you from behind, simply wanting to distract himself and fall asleep while cradling you in his arms - yet instead his already hard cock buries itself neatly between your thighs, the friction making him utter vile things.

Damn it Y/N, why the fuck do you always sleep in underwear only?! Is it to taunt him or to test his limits? Because it's working.

A breathy moan escapes his lips as he spread his legs wide, cock already leaking precum when he ran his thumb across the slid. He grabs it fiercely, pumping hard to make quick work of it, while roaming every inch of your skin he can get his other free hand on.

"Need some help with that?"

Shit.

ShitshitshitshitSHIT!

Seems like he was a little too busy with getting off - so much that even his heightened senses didn't catch you waking up to this scene. Your boyfriend had a habit of sleeping naked, so right now there was none of what he did left to the imagination.

"Heyyy sweetheart..." John tried to put on his trusty showman attitude, an awkward grin stretched across his face while trying to cover himself with the next best pillow. "Sorry babe, didn't wanna wake you up. Just go back to slee-"

"And miss out on the show?" you chuckle half-sleepily and he wants to die. He's done worse things in his life, way worse to be precize - so why is he fucking shy nowy just because you caught him? "Aww, you're blushing." He contemplates lasering your lips together to make you shut up.

"C'mon, John, I know you're holding back for some reason, but we don't have to go all out." Shuffling closer to your boyfriend, you give him those damn doe-eyes he can never say no to. "And I'd love to lend you a hand, if you know what I mean."

John instinctively closes his eyes as your face moves closer, lips eagerly awaiting yours...

...but just when you were about to touch him, he takes a hold of your wrist. "Y/N, I-" he shakes his head, trying to regain his composure. "Just- just let me go to the bathroom, okay?"

You frown. Worse, the humiliation makes tears dwell in your eyes. Pushing your partner is wrong, but without context you really start doubting yourself here.

Suddenly the stench of fear was lingering in the air, and your heart starts racing like a hummingbird. Trying to calm yourself was a fruitless attempt in front of a man that could perceive almost anything, even your pathetic strangled sobs.

So he was right: You're afraid and maybe even disgusted by his behavior, and just offered yourself to placate him.

Maybe he should just snap your neck to escape the inevitable heartbreak.

"A-Are you cheating on me?"

"Huh?" That question caught him off guard. He was prepared to hear anything, seriously all kinds of insults or accusations, but that? "Are you dense? Why the fuck would I cheat on you?"

And that's when it dawns on him: You are scared - but not of him.

To your defense, he did have a reputation of not being able to keep it in his pants. Maeve had remarked that fact more than once so you wouldn't forget. And him constantly being swarmed by the prettiest celebrities didn't do any good to your self-esteem either.

You're scared of him leaving you.

"Then what is it?" you sniveled, shrinking into yourself as you hugged your own legs. Seeing you like this and knowing he's responsible was somehow even worse than his earlier apprehensions. "You always react as if you got burned whenever we touch. Did I do something wrong, or- or am I not attractive enough?"

"What the hell are you talking about?" John scoffs in an almost irritated tone, unable to refrain from rolling his eyes. Comforting people didn't really come easy to him, even if he hated himself for not being able to let the shielding facade drop just this once. "You're gorgeous and you know that! C'mon, you women are always causing arguments out of thin air. Stop making this about yourself, would y-"

Seeing your glossy eyes turn into a glare at his ramblings made him shut up immediately, but the damage has already been done. "You know what, I'll-" For a while, you sit on the edge of the bed thinking and with every passing second of silence, Homelander's anxiety skyrockets. "I think it's better if I sleep at my own place for a while."

That's exactly what he's talking about, damn it! The line between control and insanity is a thin thread, and he is not willing to take any chances - when it comes to you at least.

"No!" he almost screams at you, jumping up from the bed and pointing a warning finger at you. "You're not going fucking anywhere!" When he sees your wary expression John's eyes soften, instantly regretting his outburst.

Why does he always fuck up? Why can he never seem to keep what makes him happy? Why can't he be what you need?

Homelander buries his face in his hands, taking a few deep breaths to calm himself just like you taught him. "Look, I-" He reluctantly put his hands on each of your shoulders and when you don't flinch away, he starts rubbing circles on your back. You always do it for him when he's upset, so he figures maybe it can help you too. "Please...I'll tell you the truth, okay? Just...don't leave."

You turn around to face him, nodding mutely as he wipes a tear from your cheek with his thumb. Seeing you cry was gutwrenching, moreso when he was the reason. "I..." he helplessly gestures around, wishing there was a script to this like he was usually provided. "I tend to become...rough."

"So?" The initial hurt now turned into confusion, suspicion even about whether he was telling the truth. You defendingly cross your arms, like a barrier so you wouldn't falter before you got answers.

"I'm not made out of glass." Compared to his strenght, you might as well be. "And I can talk. If you become too wild I'll let you know."

Stubborn as always. But he loved that about you, too. "It's not that easy, Y/N." His head falls in defeat and exasperation. John's about to cry himself, and he hates you seeing him anything less than perfect. "I'll hurt you, and then you'll hate me. Or worse..."

Consciously ignoring the worse part, you cup both sides of his face, making him look up to meet your eyes. "John..."

You straddle his waist again, feeling relief now that you finally understood. Peppering kisses across his face and neck you whisper "I was so, so worried you had grown tired of me..."

"Never." Homelander wasn't someone to apologize often, let alone sincerely. The times he did ever since leaving the lab he can count on one hand.

But despite him being...well, him, John knows best what it's like to be plaqued by insecurities. He hugs you tight enough to make you feel the sincerity of his words. "I only wanted to protect you. I never wanted to make you feel this way."

"Next time talk to me from the start, okay?" You smile softly as he aggrees, and he doubts to be deserving of all your sympathy.

Your hands never leave his body, featherlight touch reassuringly calming his nerves. And yet together with the fact that the only thing currently separating your bodies was your thin panty, it was no wonder that his body reacted the way it did.

A moan disrups your conversation when his cock stiffens again, and you can't help but buck your hips against him in response. Your panties were already soaking anyway, due to the friction and his dirty little deed earlier.

The scent of your lust wipe all negative emotions from your boyfriend's mind, replacing them with something else.

"I want you, John" you breathe against his ear and he whines. "We could just take it slowly..."

"I don't know how" he admits, and you smile at his reluctant aggreement. Gently being shoved down on his back again, it feels like he melts beneathe your fingertips. "Then I'll teach you."

Goosebumps rise on his skin as your fingertips ghost over his body, and you lean over for a longdue kiss, so tender and affectionate John thinks he will fall apart.

Homelander's groan gets swallowed by your lips as you pull your panties aside, slick folds now grinding against his cock. Your name falls from his lips in meek whimpers and you refuse to believe this wonderful man could ever harm you.

"Let me take care of you." Shit, how do you always know exactly what to say?

Raking your hands through your hair as you sit up, air gets stuck in Homelander's throat at the sight, making him choke.

You look fucking magnificent.

Hell, he'd pay an artist to paint you like this so he could look at it forever. If only it didn't require another person seeing you naked...

"You know, I thought it was just my imagination..." A mischievous smile plays on your lips now that you think of it. "But my panties have been disappearing a lot lately."

Your boyfriend didn't respond anything else but a whimmer, shame washing over him at being caught. Not that he was really subtle to begin with.

"Speak up" you tease, giving his shaft a soft squeeze and he instinctively thrusts into your hand like a dog in heat. "Did you use them to get yourself off to your fantasies, huh? Naughty boy." His cock twitches in your palm at the words. "From now on, I want you to come to me for release. Always."

"I trust you" you add as doubt is clearly written on his face, voice firm and as unwavering as your loving eyes, driving tears into his own. You lower yourself on his cock, savouring the feeling of being filled out like this. "Mhh...you feel so good inside of me. Will you behave, John?"

"Y-Yes..." was all he managed to wring out, since it takes every ounce of strenght inside of him to not cum to your sweet affirmations right away. John clutches the bedframe so hard that it crumbles under his grip, but to his surprise you don't wince at the sound - quite the opposite, it shot a wave of heat right through your core.

"John...look at me." You guide his hands away from his eyes to cup your breasts instead, looking at him like he's the best fucking thing in the world. The intensity of your gaze causes him to shiver, makes him wanna hide.

Yes, this is too good to be true.

Whatever you see in him right now he will taint with his own hands given time.

And yet he can't stop anymore, now that he's aware of the depht your love helds for him.

You read him like a damn book, noticing his internal struggle so you silence the voices in his head with a passionate kiss. "So good for me, John" you cheer him on, moving your hips at a low pace.

Tension finally leaves his body and he dives his tongue into your mouth, groaning deeply as he moves his body alongside yours. His touch was careful yet bruising, sending pleasant tingles down your spine.

"I love you, John" you cry out as your foreheads touch, eyes never leaving his. "I love you so damn much!"

That declaration was enough to drive him over the edge.

Homelander pulls you as close as close as humanly possible when he stills momentarily, jackknive-like thrusts chasing after his high. The sounds he made as you got filled up bordered on obscene, as did the amount of cum spilling out of you.

"Shit" he speaks breathlessly against your skin, covering a bitemark he had just caused with kisses. "M'sorry..."

And yet he wasn't willing to let go off of you just yet, this amazing orgasm unable to ward off the embarassment of his poor performance.

"Never apologize for having a good time, silly" you chuckle, brushing your nose against his. "I'm flattered, if anything."

John never knew that sex could be so...satisfying, more than just physically. Filled with carefree laughter instead of expectations.

After all, he was conditioned to never wanna disappoint.

"Nah-a-ah." You yelped as he spun you around effortlessly, now him being the one howering over you, bearing his canines like a starved predator. "I refuse to let my goddess go unworshipped."

"John...I'm okay, really. Sex between lovers is not just about that..." And yet when he opens your legs, you don't resist.

He bets you taste just as fucking good as you smell, feisty little thing. Driving him crazy all those weeks. Do you have any idea how hard it was to endure this sweet torture for your sake?!

A shiver runs down your spine when he licks his lips at the sight of your leaking entrance, taking a deep inhale. There's a hunger in his eyes that no sane person could ever comprehend - but you indulged in it, craved in his twisted kind of love.

Heh, you were a goddamn freak just like him all along, isn't that right?

Homelander takes his time kissing a path down to your navel, admiring the marks he left on your body he was now able to see as the lovebites they are. He briefly looks up to assure himself of your consent, an answering smile all he needs to continue.

"Myyyy tuuuurn" he chants so cheerful, you almost thought he had put on his formal persona.

A relieving finger finally has mercy and slides into your already overstimulated sex, making you arch your back when he curls it inside. Pleads and curses falling from your lips as he enters a second one and then another, and you desperately try to move yourself deeper onto him.

"Attagirl!" Seems like his confidence has returned, at least judging by that damn smug smile his tone indicated. The frustrated pout you wore right now was so adorable, he decided to end your misery and bury his head between your legs as well.

You were still fucking yourself on his fingers while he relished the taste of himself on your pussy, before enveloping your clit with his tongue. "That's my fucking girl right there" he mouths as he ate you out, pumping his fingers keenly on your weak spot he so easily found. "Come on, I want to hear you."

When you came it felt like you were ascending to the afterlife, screaming his name at the top of your lungs before collapsing into the sheets.

Your legs had long since gave out but John put them over his shoulders, humping the mattress while his tongue still ran over your nerve endings, shooting jolts of overwhelming pleasure through your system.

"Oopsie" he coos, a predatory glint in his eyes as he crawled on top of you again, his kiss giving you a taste of your own spent. "Made me hard again."

You eyes flutter open after the last bit of your climax had ebbed out, exhausted yet invitingly batting your lashes as your limbs entangled once again.

"Seems like I found the Homelander's weakness."

[ichatake]

Uchihas reacting to “I hate you”s

Request are open! Request rules here!

Characters: Sasuke Uchiha, Obito Uchiha, Madara Uchiha, Itachi Uchiha, Shisui Uchiha

Warning: slight angst, nothing else.

Obito Uchiha (Villain)

✧ “I hate you,” he stood there, his expression unwavering as your voice seethed with anger. Your voice could cut through thick glass as you shouted at him, but he felt nothing whatsoever. Even as your eyes bore into him, filled with a hatred so intense it could burn a hole through his soul, it wasn’t directed towards him. No, not ever. Yet despite the venom in your words, he didn’t flinch. Instead he listened intently, his expression indifferent. “That’s okay,” he responded, his voice devoid of any apparent emotion. In any other scenario, he would’ve crumpled under the weight of your vitriol, weeping and pleading for an explanation as to why you might hate him. But not now, because he already knew why.

✧ He knew how you mourned him for years, believing him dead and gone, only to find out the hard way the reality. He knew you visited his grave, and wished that you were in his position. He knew that your trust—your perspective of reality had been shattered the very moment his mask fell from his face. With a heavy heart, he continued “I would too,” his gaze never left yours, watching as tears streamed down your reddened cheeks. It had been years since he’d seen you this close, yet you looked young and pretty. The prettiest he’s ever seen you, even with tears glistening on your pretty face.

✧ “I hate you so much,” your voice cracked with pain and resentment as you spoke to him. Your Obito. The revelation that he was still alive, but causing so much pain and suffering shattered your world, leaving you emotionally fractured. “Why? Why do all of this? Why hurt so many?” You ask, searching his face for remorse but finding none, “Because this world is broken,” he answers steadily, his voice awfully gentle to you. “You have nothing in this reality,” his arms open, showing you the distress and chaos that is currently occurring around you. He wanted you to see how your comrades laid lifeless—to make you understand that you lost your friends, your family, your ‘happy ending’. “ Let this happen, and you will be forever happy,” he pauses briefly, searching for the right words to say. He chose his words carefully, locking eyes with you, “With me. With a better version of me. One that will keep you happy for the rest of your life,” Despite your heart-wrenching cries, he did nothing to stop this war. As you wept before him, he knew your pain would be temporary. He knew that once his plan took action—the infinite Tsukuyomi—you would find happiness. Even if you hate him now, he reassured himself, you wouldn’t think the same after his plan was completed.

Obito Uchiha (Shinobi)

✧ Obito, a strong and beloved jonin from the Leaf village, stood there, his chest tightening at the words that just came out of your mouth. His expression shifted as his mind struggled to comprehend what you had said. Suddenly, without a second thought, his words slipped through his lips as he tried to make sense of what you told him, “What… did you say?” he asked carefully, his eyes frantically darting over your face as if searching for an answer. You met his gaze, repeating your words with unwavering conviction, “I said, I hate you,”

✧ As you repeat yourself, Obito’s heart sank to the bottom of his stomach, his throat constricting as it became harder to breathe. He could handle any other response, any other thing you could have said, but hearing your harsh words was almost too much for him. “Why? What did I do? I don’t understand,” he manages to ask in desperation, trying his best to move closer to you. His heart clenched and turned inside his chest, and he boiled with fear. He loves you! He loves you to the moon and back! Why would you say that you hate him when he eats, sleeps, and breathes for you? You were his everything, so how could you hate him when he loved you so dearly?

✧ “Because you never notice how much I try for you. You’re always looking for Rin’s approval, and what about me? I’m left in the dark with nothing. I’m done with you. I’m done with trying to make you realize I’ve been in love with you for years,” you pour your heart out to him, desperate and hurt, and that’s when he realizes what this was about. Though his heart slightly fluttered at your revelation, he still felt awful for the way you were feeling all this time. The tingling sensation in the back of his mind kept bothering him as he examined every inch of your expression. “That’s… why?” He asks with a drop of his shoulder, sighing in pure relief at your confession, which only fueled the burning anger inside you. “I thought it was for something else I might’ve done… (Y/N), I don’t know if you’ve ever noticed, but I’m in love with you,” his confession caught you in surprise, his voice revealing his true feelings with no hesitation. What once was nervousness and anxiety had now been replaced with determination as he yearned to seek for a solution. It was true, he was deeply in love with you, but people still thought he had something for Rin when he didn’t. However, he did hide the fact that he liked you out of fear of another rejection. With Rin, he handled it well, but with you? He wouldn’t be able to take it. “I’m sorry if I ever made you feel horrible. I’m sorry I never noticed, and I’m sorry I hid it from you for so long. I love you, over anything there is in this world. The only thing I want is you, always and forever you,”

Madara Uchiha

✧ “I hate you,” your words felt like a slap to the face, making Madara turn around to face you swiftly. Although his face was deemed expressionless, his body tensed and tightened the more he processed your words. He had obviously been taken aback by your audacity to say such things, but he tried his best to hide his discomfort. With arms crossed over his chest, he scoffed and parted his lips, ready to give you a piece of his mind. “Get over it, woman,” he snarls at you with authority, and slight annoyance. You, his wife, should never say that to him. He’s given you everything; a home, a family, and more importantly, love. “You are acting like a child over something that should have never pestered you in the first place,” although your words had not hit him hard when you first spat them, they started to annoy him the more they set in, “If you hate me, why even decide to say yes when I proposed? If you are going to bother me with such nonsense, I will not bother with you,”

✧ His words were meant to hurt you as much as you hurt him, and when he notices the pain in your eyes, he’s satisfied… until he’s not. Until that annoying tingling feeling lingers under his skin as he watches your eyes brim with tears. The tingling feeling that pulled on the tendons of his heart any time you cried was crawling under every inch of his body. “Oh please, do not start with the tears,” he groaned in annoyance, but the salty tears were already streaming down your puffy cheeks. Despite this, he didn’t move an inch to comfort you, but watched you as you cried for a couple of minutes until he released an exasperated sigh. “Why? Why do you care so much for those people when all they have done is hurt you?” He asks with irritation, referring to your clan members who’ve hurt you in the past. He has said something out of line, and you argued with him about it, which ended you two up here.

✧ “Because we should be better people than them. Violence should never be the answer,” you sniffle with clenched fist, “But that is something you seem to never stop thinking about,” you admit, trying to hold in your tears. You didn’t want to keep crying like this in front of him. You wanted to be strong, “And if you think I am such a burden, then why keep this ring on my finger—,” you were surprised when his fingers wrap around your wrist to stop you from taking off the ring he had gifted you the night he proposed, “Because I know who I married. The same nagging woman I am with now, is the same nagging woman I fell in love with. If I had any regrets of marrying you, you would be back in your clan,” he scoffs and pulls your head to his chest with an annoyed expression “I love you, you stupid woman,” to any other person, your relationship might’ve seemed strange, but to you, this moment showed you just how much he truly loved you. Even if he has weird ways of showing it.

Shisui Uchiha

✧ Wait, he didn’t quite hear you well. Wait, what did you say? He turned towards you with a raised brow, his mouth slightly parted as he tried to figure out if you had said what he thought you said. Noticing his lost expression, you had no choice but to repeat yourself, much to your annoyance “I hate you,” this time, he did hear you. Loud and clear. To him, it felt like he took hours to respond to you, but in reality, his answer left his mouth almost immediately, “No you don’t,” It wasn’t meant to be cocky, it just sounded like it was. At least, to you it sounded cocky, and it made you even angrier with him. It annoyed you that he never took you seriously, “Oh, so now you think you know how I feel, do you?” you spat at him, hands clenching into tight fists as your eyes locked intensely, “You never care about anything! You come home and sleep and don’t even have time for me. I know you have a hard job, and I don’t expect you to be there at my beck and call, but at least asking me how I am would be enough,” you stressed, waving your arms frantically around you in desperation. You had been like this all week, stressed and unable to talk to anyone, because the only person you could ever rant and banter about things that bothered you in life was barely there for you, and when he was, it was like he wasn’t! He would barely listen to you anymore, and would expect you to listen to him. And you did, you always did. But you wanted something in return, and that was a sliver of his attention.

✧ “You're telling me you hate me over something so little?” he asks with furrowed brows, making you even more annoyed, “Over something so little?” You repeated through gritted teeth. His face, for once, contorted into one of annoyance, something you had never seen on him before, “Yes! Little! Because you know how my line of work is! You know that I barely have time to sleep, let alone waste my time with useless banter!” You were left speechless, standing in front of him with hurt eyes. “Yeah, useless. You’re right. Because my feelings don’t matter,” you scoff, “That’s not what I—” you interrupt him by turning away, tears forming in the corner of your eyes as realization finally hits him. You weren’t trying to waste his time, you just wanted to spend time with him. He had been so lost in his work, so busy caring for himself that he completely neglected you.

✧ “Oh darling,” he takes your hand again, a frown painting his face, “I’m sorry, okay? I didn’t mean any of the things I said. I’m just stressed out. Everything's happening so fast, and the clan isn’t helping at all.” he sighs and pulls you in towards him, engulfing you in his tight embrace, yet you didn’t say anything, “I know I’ve been neglecting you, and you deserve better. Please, let me make it up to you,” he whispers into you hair as he lowers down to kiss your head, “I couldn’t live with myself if I didn’t have you by my side,”

Itachi Uchiha

✧ “I hate you,” you mumble under your breath as you look at your lover. No, he wasn’t your lover anymore. He had left the village years ago, leaving you behind with a broken heart and a broken image of him. He was a monster who murdered his entire clan, and even though he had left years ago, he still looked the same as when he was still in the village, with only one difference. Those eyes. Those red eyes that stared deep into your soul. They terrified you. The eyes that you once loved and cared about so much looked down at you with no emotion. They were empty. They were dark. They were hurt. “I hate you, for everything that you did,” you pushed him, backing away from him with angry eyes. His cloak told you everything you needed to know. He was part of the Akatsuki, he was the enemy now. He was a traitor, and although your words were meant to hurt him, he closed his eyes and nodded, understanding your hatred towards him. “I understand,” he says in such a soft voice. His voice that you missed so much.

✧ You didn’t understand why he came to visit you. Why come in the middle of the night to see you? Why? Why waste his breath coming back to see you when he knew you wanted nothing to do with him? Because this would be his final goodbye. There were only a handful of people Itachi cared for—Two, to be exact. His brother, and the love of his life. He knew that soon he’d perish, and this was the final time he would ever see you again. Not that it mattered. He tried not to think about it, thinking it would make things worse. It would be better if he never came to see you, but his heart got the best of him, and so he sat there at your window, looking at you for one final time.

✧ “You don’t,” you clench your fist, hurt by his mere presence, “I don’t want anything to do with you, and I will report you to the higher ups. Unless you came here to kill me, which I don’t doubt,” you were defenseless, but you wouldn’t go out without a fight. Never. You would fight until the very end, but soon you realized he wasn’t there to kill you. “I have no need for that,” he closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, “I came by my own selfishness. I don’t expect you to understand, and I accept your hatred, which I deserve,” he looks at you, red eyes burning into yours, “I simply wanted to see you for a final time,” he smiles and reaches out for you, pushing your hair out of your face, “My love,” and with that, your vision goes black as your consciousness slips away from you. You would wake up the next day tucked into your bed with a necklace tucked tightly in your hand.

Sasuke Uchiha

✧ Words never hurt this Uchiha, he was used to every awful thing anyone could throw at him. He cared too little about anything and everything, and that's what you hated the most about him. He barely cared about anything you did or said, at all times. He didn’t care how you looked because he never complimented you, he didn’t care how you acted because he barely spoke to you. You felt like you were in a relationship with a ghost, in fact, the comparison was not even close, because dating a ghost would be ten times better than this. And with every passing day of being emotionally neglected by your partner, today was no different. He was back in the village, and instead of coming to you first—to his home—he decided it was better to meet with Naruto and Sakura over seeing his wife who waited patiently everyday for him. You questioned if the ring on your finger meant anything to him at all at that moment. Despite this,

✧ When he got home, you were so happy, yet he showed no sign of interest in anything you did for him. You cooked and he ate, saying nothing about the taste of your new recipe. In fact, he seemed like he didn’t notice that you had learnt to cook a new dish just for him. Even so, you shrugged his annoying attitude off and asked about his day instead. Your question seemed to annoy the tired man as he became uninterested in mid conversation. When you asked him what was wrong, he shrugged you off. You kept questioning him until he snapped at you, telling you how you were annoying him with all your worries. This had been the final straw. You always gave everything in the relationship. You understood he wasn’t the best at showing his emotions, but it didn’t mean he could act like he didn’t care about you. Like you were nothing. The argument got heated and it ended up with you opening your mouth without thinking. “I hate you!” After your words fell out of your mouth, the room fell silent. He who had been looking away from you, had now turned his full attention towards you, “You don’t mean that, stop being dramatic,” the sight of him rolling his eyes hurt you more than it ever did. “You don’t care about anything, Sasuke. I do everything to try and please you. I could even say I live for you, but it’s never enough! You don’t take a sliver of your time to appreciate me. You think I have to be there for you whenever you need me, but can just leave whenever you want!” you yell, hitting the wall in frustration.

✧ “You don’t care about me! You don't love me anymore!” you were in a current state of pure anger, letting out everything you ever wanted to say to him. This makes him stand up and walk towards you, taking your wrist in his hand. You look up at him, tears of frustration prickling in the corner of your eyes. “If I didn’t love you, I wouldn’t have married you. You mean a lot more to me than you think. I… I’m sorry if I don’t show it,” he sighs, “I love your cooking, I love your stories—I love hearing about everything that happened throughout your day. You’re the only thing I can think about when I’m away,” he lets go of your wrist and places a hand on your cheek, “Don’t hate me, because you’re the only important thing in my life. You’re my wife, and I…” he stops himself, trying to build the courage to complete his sentence. A small blush decorates his cheeks before he sighs, “I care for you a lot,” your husband wasn’t perfect, but you still loved him a lot, and you knew he loved you too.

[amourane]

THE WAY YOU WRITE IS JUST *CHEF’S KISS*

You deserve all the notes ⭐️ would it be ok to request a post hogwarts with theo? Angst to fluff if that’s alright?

TIA if you decide to do it!!

—🍄

calm after the storm

pairing: theodore nott x gn!reader

genre: angst to fluff, post hogwarts au

w/c: 1.2k

summary: theo has a hard time dealing with his emotions and you were always there for him but what if one day it becomes all too much.

warnings: it's going to hurt <3

a/n: 🍄 thank you so so much for this request because i read it when u sent it and i remembered it in my exam and i managed to write this banger (i dont know if its word for word but i tried to write as much as i could remember) i just added the fluff at the end. BUT THIS IS FOR YOU <33333

Rain.

It was the first thing that hit Theo’s face when he stormed out of the door. Thick and heavy droplets that fell from the sky, marking his perfect face. They streaked down his cheeks parting into different directions like rivers. The cold sensation enveloped him as he listened to the pitter patter that flooded his ears.

He was angry. He was frustrated. He was livid. The ugly emotion bubbled within him, threatening to burst. It twisted and toiled, shrieked and screamed. It was like a monster, feeding on his anger, waiting to pounce at any second. 

The fight wasn’t meant to escalate this badly. Insults were thrown and meaningless threats were made as the both of you shouted at each other.

The argument could have been solved. The solution simply lay right in front of Theo but he had refused to see it. He had refused to accept he was wrong. You hadn’t asked for much, hadn’t asked anything unreasonable yet he had lashed out. He chose to ignore what lay in front of him and blame you instead. 

“I should have never accepted your pathetic excuse for a confession.”

The words had tumbled out of his mouth before he could’ve stopped them. Harsh cutting words that dug into you and twisted with malice. He saw the way his words clawed at the seams of your heart, ripping it to shreds. He watched as your face fell and broke. The once bright smile he always saw was replaced with a heart wrenching stare.

It was all too much. So he ran.

Bitterness swallowed him whole as he thought back to the moment. Festering anger turned into anguish. You had always been so full of joy. Ever since he had met you all those years ago when he watched as you got sorted and skipped to your table with glee. You were so beautiful, so kind, so pure. Your eyes would always look at him with so much adoration and love. Theo loved you more than he could imagine. 

Then the fight would resurface. It overtook his honeyed memories of you like an infectious plague, tainting the sweet thoughts. They replaced your beautiful smile with a heartbroken expression. Your eyes, that he was so used to seeing filled with love, looked at him with incredulous horror. The sight haunted him.

Rain brought Theo back to the present. The thunderous clap resounded through his ears. At first, he had wanted to run far away but he only found himself able to walk so far before his feet refused to move. He stayed stuck to the ground as he felt the rain wash over him. Theo didn’t care what others thought, didn’t care if the passersby looked at him oddly.

All he cared about was you.

Theo didn’t know how long he stayed outside letting the water rush over his body. He simply stood. Time seemed to pass slowly as he tried to remind himself of your laughter and smiles. He forced himself to forget about what had happened but he couldn’t. The memories were constant, a never ending cycle that would taunt him. 

The rain slowed and eventually stopped. The dull grey clouds cleared to reveal the peaceful sky as if nothing had happened. 

Even though the sun beamed down on Theo he still felt the endless rivers that ran down his cheeks. He still felt the streaks of water as they rolled down his face. The tears didn’t stop as he stood there.

The streets were still damp, the scent of rain hanging in the air. Theo felt a gentle touch on his arm and he flinched, spinning around to meet your worried gaze. Your voice, soft and full of concern, broke through the haze. 

“Theo, you’re soaked. You’ll catch a cold out here.”

He turned to face you, his eyes red and puffy from crying. The moment his gaze met yours, the dam broke. Sobs racked his body, and he fell into your arms, clutching you as if you were his lifeline.

“I’m sorry.” He choked out between sobs. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean any of it. I was just so angry, and I took it out on you. I was wrong, and I’m so sorry.”

You held him tighter, your touch soothing him. He continued to cry, unable to stop the tears as they continued to fall. The guilt ate him up inside, gnawed at his conscience, continuously banging on the iron bars that he kept his heart behind.

“Shh, it’s okay.” You whispered, stroking his wet hair. “It’s okay, Theo. We’ll get through this.”

Your words broke him even more. You were so kind. He didn’t deserve you. He didn’t deserve your kindness. You had always been the understanding one, the one to resolve fights, the one who would reach out and tell him it’ll be okay. Theo knew he had a problem with his emotions, he knew that he had a hard time expressing how he felt. You knew it too. He would always be grateful for the way that you still stuck by him despite everything. 

“I hurt you. I said such horrible things. How can you even look at me?” He whispered against you, his voice cracking. His throat was dry and hoarse from the crying and he pulled away to look at you. His vision was blurry but he could still make out your beautiful features.

You cupped his face in your hands, wiping away the tears with your thumbs. “Because I love you, Theo. We’ve had our fights, but this…this is something we can fix. We just need to talk and understand each other.”

Theo could only watch as you smiled despite the fact tears were spilling from your eyes too. He felt the emotions whirl in his mind.

“I love you so much Y/n. I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry Y/n. I’m such a bad boyfriend. I’m so sorry. I never meant any of it. I love you so much, so so much.” He hugged your body tight, trying to grasp onto the warmth you always provided him with. “Can we - can we start over?”

You nodded, a soft smile spreading across your face. “Yes, Theo. We can start over. But first, let’s get you out of these wet clothes and somewhere warm.”

The two of you walked back to your apartment, your hand holding his as you led him inside. No words were said as you helped him dry off, grabbing new clothes so he didn’t fall sick from the rain. Each touch that you left filled his cold body with warmth. He pulled you towards him, embracing you tightly.

“Thank you.” He whispered against your hair. “Thank you for not giving up on me.”

You held him tighter, making sure that he knew that you would always be there for him, making sure that he felt all of your love and comfort.

“I would never give up on you.” You breathed out a sigh as your hands massaged his back. “We’ll get through this, just like how we got through everything else.”

The two of you stayed in silence, letting the day pass by. No words needed to be exchanged as the both of you enjoyed the comfort of each other's love. Theo knew he had issues. He knew he had problems. Yet as long as you stayed by him he knew that life wouldn’t be so bad.

[yandere-daydreams]

jason strikes me as the member of the family that holds out the longest and acts as the closest form of protection to a kidnapped darling-sibling that they eventually feel "comfortable" enough going to him as defense or a buffer from the others. until this inevitably leads to them alone one night and maybe they've allowed themselves more comfortable clothing (read: less coverage than a convent's dress code) and he gets a glimpse of skin as he glances down at his darling-sibling leaning against him. and is it hot in here? more than usual? it cant be the blanket it's been there a while without issue. and then darling-sibling makes the mistake of looking up at him, with big, innocent eyes and the most adorable pout.

i mean, everyone else has treated you so callously, like a piece of meat meant to be ravaged, jason would never! when he touches them, it's with nothing but gentle yet firm hands, like handling a baby bird. and he knows he makes you feel safe, imagine if he could make you feel MORE. something even more pleasurable than calm and secure? what if he could bring you ephoria and ecstacy? he's not thinking about what you would be doing to him, oh no, this is TOTALLY 100% altruistic big brother doing what a big brother should for his darling younger sibling who's needed him so much all this time. of course he'd be needed here too.

i got carried away.

word count: >1.0k.

tw: implied non/con, obsessive behavior, implied kidnapping, nonconsensual touching, and overall freak behavior.

He was doing this for your sake.

You didn’t know that. He’d tried to tell you, but you’d refused to listen – just cried and whined and clawed at his chest as he positioned himself above you, his body between your legs and a hand planted on either side of your head. He could still see your mouth moving, recognize that wet, glazed-over look in your eyes, but whatever sentiments managed to make it past your trembling lips were long underneath the sound of his own heart beating in his ears, the rattle of the air in his lungs as he struggled to keep his breathing even, to stay composed. If he panicked, rushed, you’d only get more scared and, well, he didn’t want you to be scared. Not of him. Not of what he was going to do for you.

With an airy sigh, he leaned down, leaving that much less space between your form and his. The shirt you’d borrowed from him (a sight too familiar to still send the pang of warmth through his chest it had the first time you smiled so shyly and asked if you could borrow something a little more comfortable than the pitch-black turtlenecks and baggie sweaters you chose to pile on around the rest of his family) was a size too big, prone to sliding down your arm, and he buried his face in the dip of your shoulder, letting his lips ghost over your unprotected skin. The hem had ridden up, leaving your side vulnerable, exposed. His hand fell to your waist, and—

Fuck.

You were softer than he thought you’d be.

Bruce would’ve been too cold, too busy pretending to be unaffected to savor the feeling of your unscarred, unhardened skin against his calloused fingertips, and Dick wouldn’t have been able to stop himself from tearing you apart. Jason, though – he kneaded into your hip, your thigh like you were the most delicate thing on the face of the planet because, even if he rolled his eyes when Tim explained that it was the Wayne family’s duty to protect you, you were. He was different from his brothers, from Bruce, from the rest of the manor. He knew what it felt like to break everything he touched, which meant he was the only one who could do this without breaking you.

He pressed a kiss, gentle and impulsive, into the corner of your jaw, then the side of your neck. This time, he heard the ragged sob that tore past your lips, felt your blunt nails rake over his back with enough force to break the skin. He stifled a throaty groan, ignored the way his cock pulsed behind the suddenly constraining material of his sweatpants – instead, he focused his attention on you, on pressing open-mouthed kisses into your collarbone. It took more self-restraint than it should’ve not to leave a mark, not to bite down and make sure anyone who looked at you would who’d put their claim on you, but self-indulgence could wait until you blinked up at him with those teary, glossed-over eyes and asked him to protect you from the rest of his family, the rest of the world. Caught up in his fantasy, he let his grip tighten, let his thumb press into your thigh with too much force, and you cried out, the noise cracked and helpless in a way that made him love you just a little more. “Jason, please, I don’t want to—”

He hushed you with an airy chuckle, nuzzling into the crook of your neck. “I know, baby bird, I know. You can just lay back and relax. I’ll try to make it fast. And fun, too, even if you’re gonna keep pouting like that.” He sighed, then smiled against the base of your throat. “It’s better like this. The other guys – they’d be too rough, and you’re too fragile for something like that.”

He pulled back, already grinning down at you. “This’ll be your first time, right? Don’t you want your favorite big brother to help you through it?”

You only sobbed louder in response, but he didn’t mind. This wasn’t for him. He didn’t have to enjoy it.

He was doing this for your sake.

Maybe, by the time he was done, you’d be a little more thankful.