#her very first argument was What if your man wants you to wear heels

[sungvrhs]

Rile Me Up ; Lee Heeseung

Genre; Explicit | Heeseung x Female!reader word count; 6.1k

note: It's my first time writing an explicit content, I don't really know how it turned out😭. This took a slight turn ISTG TT.

dedicated to my bestie @heelvsted HAPPY BIRTHDAY LOVE!

It hasn't been long since you both were tied to the knots of marriage and Heeseung was typically an introverted and a reserved person; always letting pass the situations that could have led to any sort of argument. You couldn’t remember even if you guys had any sort of argument or if Heeseung had ever lost his temper. He usually remained calm and poise which just made you even more curious of his intimidating nature that you heard from his friends but never got to see. There was merely, according to Beomgyu, his very close mate, a chance to aggravate that side of him, which was quite upsetting to you as you were like an open book to your man as she could easily read through the slightest expressions worn upon your face, whilst you here were still not exposed to the different natures he possessed.

But one thing that Heeseung’s sister slipped to you was how he would easily get jealous over the people he loved. “What do you mean by him getting jealous over you guys?” You remember the conversation that you had over the tea as Lee Iseul spoke, “Like a typical man, Heeseung gets jealous when he gets undivided attention, or the lack of interest when he is out conversing with the former person. And since you’re his woman, I bet this trait of his would be much more polished than before.” She spoke while nudging onto your shoulder. It was amusing how you and Iseul had grown closer after your marriage and that now you both were like each other’s ride or die; whether it be lending ears to each other’s rant or taking relationship advice, it was always the both of you slipping in each other’s direct messages. 

“Oh you’re totally going to the party on the weekend Y/n. Come on! Don’t be a party pooper.” Iseul whined, not liking how introverted you had grown due to the sudden change in your ‘MBTI,’ as you labeled it. She didn’t buy it as an excuse from your end as she dragged you back to your room. “Now this is what I call a ‘gathering to gossip girl’ outfit. And your gaze went to what she was holding; a sleek, all black dress. “Oh I won’t buy the simplicity of the dress cause you’re wearing it exactly the way I want.” You heard Iseul speak as she pointed a finger at you whilst you tried to fight back, letting a sigh escape your lips. “But Iseul, you know Heeseung hates such attire.” Iseul made her way towards your jewelry, as she found a matching choker to compliment the pair of dangling earrings and a 3 inch heel. “Oh come on, when did you exactly wear any outfit like that in front of my brother?” You opened your mouth to speak a few words but closed them back as you pressed your lips in a thin line. ‘Right, when did I actually ever wear an outfit like that in front of him.’ “You’re married to him, Y/n. Not kept as a captive that you can’t wear what you want.” It was extremely new coming from her end but you did agree to what she said. You wanted to try it for once and she gave you the slightest hunch of courage. “Besides, who knows what would awaken in Mr.Lee for the day after you dress like a three course meal.” You turned at her comment, feeling your cheeks burning just at the mere thought of it. “ISEUL!” You spoke, hiding your face in your hands as she laughed at your reaction. “You both are a freaking match made in heaven.” And she knew exactly what she meant.

“Iseul, I don’t know if I look decent enough-” You got cut off by Iseul, “You look absolutely gorgeous darling. What a riveting sight for my brother. How did he dare not to acknowledge such beauty?” Your cheeks flushed at her words. Well, it wasn’t that you weren’t used to compliments, but the mere mention of your husband just made it hard for you to accept as a lump formed in your throat. He never exactly spoke it out in words, or maybe you were just a little bad at picking up on hints. You were a little expressive and quite shy type at the same time while he reflected a strange cold demeanor; keeping the conversations to a minimum, not at all a party person, letting his soft smile elicit when he was surrounded by his friends, family, including you. 

You took one glance at the mirror as you heard the honking of the car, catching both of yours attention as Iseul speaks. “I'll get it.” You nodded as you followed her a little later after you heard slight giggles of the Lee siblings. “Nah it’s always you who takes the most time to dress up!” You heard Heeseung speak as you made your way out of the room, your heels clicking as they caught the attention of the both of them, leaving Heeseung awestruck at the breathless beauty that stood in front of him, the thin layer of blush lightening up with the natural one as you broke apart the eye contact with him. “Come on love birds, you both can have a staring contest later.” You heard Iseul speak as Heeseung scratched his nape. “After you ladies.” 

Reaching the destination felt like a gust of wind as you had almost started to drown in the starry night above your head but it all came to a halt when the car came to rest. Iseul made her way out first as she went to greet her friends as you made your way out of the car, taking a minute to adjust your hair as you felt Heeseung snaking his hand around your waist, making you hault your movements for a bit as you turned to face him, only to find him looking up at you already. His blueberry hair complimented the shades of moonlight as he had that soft smile on his face. “Are we good to go?” You took a quick glance down your dress as you nodded, interlocking your hands with his.

“Y/n! Over here!” You both made way towards the center of the whole but your attention was averted when you heard your name being called out. You turned around as your mouth parted due to the amusement. “Jay! Oh my god!” You made your way towards your cousin, more like your half brother as you left Heeseung behind, letting alone the man confused at what caught your eye. He followed your fading steps, only to be met by slight giggles eliciting from your ends as he raised his eyebrows in perplexity. 

“Y/n! My god you changed within a few years. Thank god, otherwise you were so unbearable.” Jay joked, making a face of disgust as you slapped his arm, earning a chuckle from his end. “At least better than you, cousin.” He had his mouth agape dramatically as he spoke. “Oh, you didn't just cousin-zoned me did you?” He had his arm wrapped around your shoulder as he spoke, earning an eye roll from you. Why of course he was your cousin, not until his father and your mother got married after your father passed away, so now you both were practically step siblings. But the thing that kept the boundaries straight was that you both had platonic love for each other. Whilst you both were the single child of your families, you both helped to fill the void of having a sibling to each other. He never turned down any of your childish requests and so didn’t you. But it was about time that after he turned 19, he got a scholarship acceptance to the States and had moved there, applying for the better opportunities to continue his studies and later planned and accomplished on setting his own firm. It was later the following year that you had applied for an online remote job which ended up being from his very own firm. And that is how you both were able to connect back after ages. 

Before you had the chance to answer him, you felt a hand softly pulling you away from his embrace as you looked up to find Heeseung, completely void of any sort of cheerful expression. That facade of bliss and joy that he had on his charming face a few minutes ago vanished into thin air. "Hi I assume you're, Mr.Park? The one Y/n talks about the most." You hear Heeseung speak, getting the slight hint of sarcasm dropping down his words as he makes eye contact with you, wearing that facade of an adoring smile on his face, proving that he was, indeed, amused to have met him. You mentally scoff at his actions but you're slightly pleased at finding something that could rile him up. You heard Jay softly chuckling as he was embarrassed at Heeseung's words, yet he nodded, extending a handshake to him as Heeseung returned it politely. It was sure that he didn't have beefs with him for the start but they could turn into one if the conversation made a U-turn.

"I'm delighted to know that I'm familiar to someone as respectable as you Mr.Lee. It's an honor to have her in our company. The walls of this firm are built with the chunks of effort she has put in for the past years." The sincerity of his words had your eyes sparkled with delight, accompanying the warmth that was filled in your heart for him. It was always these small gestures that made you feel like home whenever you were with Jay. And the way he was addressing Heeseung so formally almost had you holding back your laughter.

"Thank you Jay, or should I say, Mr.Park?" You spoke with a slight grin as Jay laughed at your words, slightly embarrassed on how casual he was being with you in front of your husband. “Anything for you cousin sister.” He turned to face Heeseung who had a slight smile on his face as he addressed a handshake to him, to which he gladly returned. “It was an honor meeting you Mr.Lee. I’m glad that Y/n is in good hands.” Jay let a small smile linger on his lips as the older returned it with a warm one. Guess the interaction wasn’t that bad afterall. The younger’s phone rang as he fished his phone out of his pocket, excusing himself from the conversation, leaving the two of you facing each other. The loud music that rang in your ears slowly faded upon the sight of your man right in front of you. It was confirmed that you were a swoon for him, but it just wasn’t the time to let it be evident to him. 

You heard the latter letting out a soft chuckle as he tugged one of his hands in his pocket whilst the other made way around your waist pulling you closer as his actions left you flustered. You surely didn’t know what got this new side of him out all of a sudden but all your thoughts were shattered as you heard his breath lingering on your ears, with a soft whisper melting through your ears. "That smile was supposed to be exclusively for me Mrs.Lee. I presume you forgot your dear promise." He pulled back slightly as he tucked a loose hair strand behind your ear, taking your breath away just by a single gesture as you held onto your racing heartbeats, facing flushing to a deeper shade of red. “I met him after a long time.” You spoke softly, letting your hand reach his shoulder in a delicate grip as you tugged your lips in a thin line. Surely it was evident how you had kept yourself from practically getting into a playful fight with Jay because you were in a formal gathering, but something about Heeseung’s sudden shift in moods didn’t go unnoticed by you. Just as Heeseung was about to say something, you heard Iseul speak, “Oh get a room you lovebirds. Singles would not like you to experience a whole showcase.” You turned to face her, eyes widened at her words as she shrugged her shoulders. With that Heeseung let loose his embrace as you awkwardly fixed your hair, feeling slightly embarrassed at the attention that Iseul had gathered on the both of you.

“Girl what was that?” Iseul dragged you in a far corner as Heeseung interacted with his ‘elite 01’s’ as they cheered for the newly wedded couple. “What?” You questioned her, seeming confused at how everything was turning a little different than before, but was it worth to be questioned or to be just experienced? “Did you not see how my brother was all riled up when you met Jay?” You pondered over his words, remembering how he was sly enough to pull you close to him as to which you spoke, “Yeah he was actually indifferent as if he didn’t know who Jay was? Like Jay is one of the most important family members to me and I might have spoken about him a dozen of times-""Well, maybe this is why he felt all jealous, girl, don’t you get it?” you got cut off by Iseul as she raised her eyebrows. You were about to speak but paused midway, taking note of what she said. And then it clicked you. “No way, he was jealous? Of Jay?” You kept a hand on your mouth, slightly shocked at the new discovery as you whispered to her, to which she acknowledged. “No way.” You kept your face in your hands, not letting this opportunity slip by. “Now that you scratched it out…” Iseul had a mischievous smile on her face, as to which you nodded sideways. “You’re not doing anything stupid are you?” You said, as to which she disagreed. “No no, absolutely not my dear sister-in-law.” And now that she said that, you knew something was up in her mind.

The ride back home was nothing but silence; Iseul decided to stay a bit longer with her friends as to which neither of you minded, and Jay, well he wasn’t quite seen around after that last encounter before you guys headed. You could see how Heeseung had his gaze traveling to Jay as hugged you by the side, ruffling your hair as to which you were taken by surprise, a soft chuckle leaving your lips. “Let’s meet again soon, both of you.” Jay spoke as he embraced the elder in a warm hug, as to which he reciprocated the energy. “We will surely. It was nice meeting you.” Heeseung spoke, as you nodded, bidding him farewell as you both took the ride back home. Neither of you had an exchange of words as Heeseung drove whilst you stared outside at the starry night. Nothing seemed to have changed; not a single star as it felt like it was exactly the same moment that you were reliving for the moment. You almost felt like dozing off to sleep as the light brushed of the wind was reliving, until you felt a message pop up on your phone, gaining your attention as you went to receive it, only to find Iseul dropping one of the longest texts that you had ever seen, letting you eyes widen as it didn’t fail to catch Heeseung’s attention.

“What was with Jay, or should I say, Mr.Park.” Heeseung spoke, taking off his coat as you had your eyes fixed on the phone. Not hearing a reply from your end he turned to face you, only to find you engrossed into texting as he poked his inner cheek. You were testing his patience for the day and he was at the edge of losing it. He waited for a few more seconds until you responded. “Well, what about him?” You spoke, looking up to him only to be slightly taken aback by the way he had his one hand in his pocket and the other holding his coat. ‘Oh he looks so fine.’ You didn’t want to make it evident that you were drooling over him so you turned your attention back to your phone. “The mere amount of closeness between the two of you was uncomfortable to me.” Well one thing you appreciated about him was that he was outspoken; he would always let the former person know if any of his or her acts was bothering him in any way.

“Well, it has always been this way Hee, don’t make a big deal about it.” Oh now that you said it, you could feel his gaze practically pinning down on you as you continued to use your phone, letting it slip aside that what you just spoke was nowhere close to how you usually speak to him. 

‘Gosh Iseul I swear I'm going to kill you with my very own hands.’ You thought to yourself, mentally cursing her for making you do this. “‘Will you keep that phone down for a mere second Y/n?” He spoke, throwing his coat on the couch as he turned to face you, pissed  off at how you had your undivided attention on him. “Mhm I am listening to you Hee-” You got cut off by him as he took pacing steps towards you, grasping your attention as he swiftly took your phone away, leaving you startled as you stood up in front of him. “Hee, give it back.” You reached out for the phone as he moved back, sneaking through what you were doing as you noticed a small smirk appearing on his face, as to which you took a step back, heels clicking the floor. He lifted his gaze from the phone as he locked contact with you, turning to face you completely. “So Mrs.lee certainly wanted me to expose a hidden side of mine?” He let out a husky chuckle, not failing to awaken butterflies in your stomach as you spoke, “No, it was just a literary device that Iseul used.” Well that was one pathetic excuse but you prayed it was enough to convince him that this was not what you intended. 

“He let out another chuckle at your words as his free hand went to undo his tie, tensing up the atmosphere all of a sudden as a lump formed in your throat. He tossed the phone down on the couch as your gaze went to it, getting distracted as you failed to notice how he was now standing only a few inches close to you as you moved back a bit, causing him to take one step forth; one step backwards, two steps forward. That is how it was following, only the clicking of the heels of yours and his shoes echoing in the cozy lounge as your back eventually hit the wall, letting your eyes slightly widen as you wished to be fast enough to move to the side, failing miserably as he kept his hands on either side of you, trapping you in between as your gaze went up to look through his mischievous one. ‘This was not what I was expecting.’ Your thoughts were interrupted when you felt him leaning towards your ear, slipping another sentence for the day that almost made you weak on your knees.

“I'm giving you 20 seconds to run, Y/n. Only 20. If I catch you, I’ll fuck you.”

__________________________________________________________

“I'm giving you 20 seconds to run, Y/n. Only 20. If I catch you, I’ll fuck you.” A husky chuckle left his lips as his hand slipped back to his pockets as he pulled back, eyeing you from top to bottom as your breath hitched at his words. “W-What?” You managed to gain back your long lost voice as he took a step back, amused at your flustered reaction. “I said what I said. 20 seconds Y/n. I am starting the countdown. 1…2…” “W-Wait wait! Hee! What the heck do I do?” You panicked as he started his manual countdown as he shrugged his shoulders. “5…6…7…” You turned around to take off your heels but it seemed like luck wasn’t helping. “8…9…10…11” ‘Oh fuck.’ You left what you were doing as you made way to your bedroom, sprinting through the stairs as you were risking your life with the 3 inch heel and the narrow staircase. “12…13…Oh, be careful dear wife, I don’t want you to fall.” You turned to look at him as he took slight steps towards the path you followed, causing you to enter your room as you turned the doorknob lock, taking a deep breath. “What did I get myself into?” You took a few steps towards your bed, still hearing him count for god knows how long before he finally stopped. You took off your heels, thankfully they weren’t a problem this time as your attention turned to the silence that engulfed the atmosphere.

“Hee?” You heard no voice from the door as you turned open the doorknob, stepping out to not find him downstairs. “Heeseung, this is nowhere close to being funny.” You spoke in an annoyed tone as you closed the door behind you, making your way towards the staircase. “Hee-” You got cut off as you felt a hand tugging on your wrist as you turned around and slammed back on the door, a gasp leaving your lips as you were met by his siren gaze. “What the heck Heeseung?” A low chuckle escaped his lips as he spoke. “I’m obliged to my words but it seems like you weren’t?” his behavior made it seem like he might have been high on drugs, because this was definitely new coming from his end. “Heeseung what is up with you-” “You wanted me to be like an open book to you right? You wanted to discover all of my personalities.” Your breath hitched at the close proximity while his cinnamon breath fanned on your lips, his orbs capturing yours in a ravishing contact. “H-Hee.” His name left as a whisper as you kept your hands on his chest, causing a short distance to develop between the two of you as you almost held back to your breath. “You invoked the element of jealousy in me, love. And now I won’t be holding it back.” 

Before you had a chance to fight back, you felt him pulling you in a messy lip-lock, his hand sliding down to pull you closer by the waist as the other took hold of your jaw, fingers softly rubbing down the back of your neck as he took you by surprise. The heart fluttering radiance made way to spread through your veins like a blazing wildfire as you reciprocated the feeling, throwing your arms around his neck as you pulled him closer. Time and tide waits for none, and that is exactly what Heeseung was holding onto as he took his own time to savour the sweetness plattered on your lips, seeming like he would never get enough of it as he took the opportunity to tuck on your bottom lip, letting a gasp elicit from you end as he slipped his tongue, enjoying every inch of the hot chambers as an excited moan escapes his lips. Whilst you were running breathless, you softly tapped his shoulders, causing him to slow down his movements as he broke apart the lip-lock, a string of saliva keeping both of you connected after the slight intimacy. Panting for air as he opened his eyes, finding your amused ones as he slightly frowned. “What?” He spoke, pushing his hand away from your neck as he took his support by the wall next to the door, feeling his own cheeks heating up at the flashbacks of the past few moments you both shared. “I didn’t know you would act all riled up because of mere jealousy.” You spoke softly, finding it witty how the man who was all jealous was now flushing in embarrassment. He had a slight grin on his face as he spoke, “Well you unravelled it after all, there was no point in hiding it.” He looked away scratching his nape on how he got carried away.

“I’ll be more careful in bringing it out more often.” You spoke, placing your arm on his shoulders as you fondly gazed at him, eyes never leaving his as his hands held your arms in an agile grip. “I’d be more than glad to serve you each time.” A low chuckle leaves his lips as he speaks. “But for now…” with a sparkle in his eyes and a hint of mischievousness ligering in his words, you tilted your head in confusion as he lifted you in his arms, taking you by surprise as a loud chuckle escapes your lips, pushing through the unlocked door as he softly placed you on the the spongy mattress. “Do I have your consent for the night, Lee Y/n?” He spoke, seeking your consent whilst it fluttered your heart, welling up tears in our orbs as you nodded. Hovering over you as he planted a fragile kiss on your forehead, sealing the promise of compassion and devotion under the shimmering moonlight. “You had no option to deny it either way, love.” He whispered whilst sitting up, undoing his tie as he unbuttoned the first button of his shirt, letting it loose as he crawled up to settle between your thighs as he looked at you, smirking at your flustered state. “Oh don’t look at me like that, help me take this off.” He spoke, pulling you up with his grip as you slightly gasped, with his hands guiding you to the buttons of his shirt. “You are so incorrigible.” Taking your own time to tease him as your fingers traced down his chest, his muscles tensing up as you undid the buttons, letting it fall apart as he got rid of it, revealing the chiseled body underneath, the sculpted abs and the muscles that lined his biceps and shoulders, with his pecs were smooth and well-defined, the veins in his arms pulsated as he moved them around.

His dark gaze lingering over yours as he ducked down, pressing his lips against yours as you returned the feverish sensation back with the same will, draping your hands around his neck to pull him closer, leaving no space for air to creep up in between. His hand fumbled through the hem of your dress, sliding through it as the dress crept up, letting the cold air make contact with your bare skin underneath as it sent shivers down your spine. "You're mine, all mine." He whispered against your  lips, the words sending another spark through your veins as youI nodded, "I know." He pulled apart, his hands still caressing your waist as he sat up. "Take it off." 

His demanding tone might have caught you off guard as he was never this demanding before. Going along with the word play as you retorted back playfully. "What?" It was bold of you to assume that you could do a foreplay, whilst being under him. as a low chuckle escaped his lips whilst he spoke, his hands resting on my thighs. "Take that fancy little dress off you or should I get the job done?" I smirked at his words. "Why don't you do it yourself, Mr.Lee." You spoke, fumbling with his belt as he scoffed, pulling up the dress as he threw it aside, leaving you in your inners. "Oh, you're way too bold." He teased as he ran his hands over your thighs. Whilst his gaze followed the trace of his fingers on your skin, he spoke, “Just remember my love, the night is still young.” He turns his gaze back to you, flashing you that one troublesome gaze which you despised the most. He won’t be letting you go this easily.

His rousing tone rushed like a never-ending stream as you could feel yourself getting drenched just by his mere touches. But you chose not to give in as you gulped, trying to shove off the shakiness in your tone. It was evident how you pulled apart from the intense eye contact, as his gaze softened, coming forth to place a soft kiss on your nose as he tucked a loose hair strand behind your ear. “I promise to be gentle, my love. If you don’t want this we can stop-” “Hey, it’s okay I know you won’t hurt me.” You cut him off in between as you took a deep sigh. He seeked for any traces of lies hiding behind your hazel orbs as he spoke. “Are you sure Y/n? I have never rushed things with you so I don’t want our first to be an uncomfortable experience.” The switch from the heated atmosphere to a more admiring, concerning and light hearted made your heart at a little ease. You thought for a while as you looked up to his bambi orbs. “I…I just don’t want to embarrass myself in front of you.” Just as these words left your mouth you heard slight laughter from his end. “W-whats so funny?” You spoke, a questionable frown appearing on your face as he turned his head sideways, a small grin on his face. “Now where did the ‘all bold Y/n’ go huh? Weren’t you the one determined to encounter these moments more often? To be in this position 24/7” He spoke, rubbing his nose against yours as he looked down at you, eyeing you from top to bottom as the actions made the blood rush up against your cheeks. “HEESEUNG!” You spoke, reaching out for the bed sheet, as he held your hands gently, pinning them sideways as he spoke, “Don’t shy away from me, love.” his hands tracing behind your back as his fingers rested on the strap of your bandeau, seeking your permission with his eyes whilst you nodded, letting him take it off, revealing your chest. “You’re insanely beautiful.” He placed a soft kiss on one of your bosoms, letting your heart flutter at his words as a soft moan escaped your lips as he continued, “The most heavenly sight to my eyes.” placing another kiss on your collarbone. “My glamorous beauty.” trailing kisses up to our jaws as you intertwined your fingers with his. “My woman.” he spoke, placing a tender kiss on your lips, full of love and compassion as he pulled apart, admiring the view underneath him. The past few moments that resided with jealousy and lust were now engulfed with words of appreciation and compassion. 

He paused for a moment, letting you take a breather before he left another trail of tender kiss down through your body as his hands rested on your inner thighs, parting them slightly as your heartbeats paced up. Letting his fingers hover around your cervix as he let an airy chuckle escape his lips. “Relax love, close your eyes.” You obliged to his words, gripping onto the bed sheets as you felt his fingers encircling, letting your lips fall apart whilst another moan escaped your lips. “Feels good?” He questions, lifting up to see your parted lips as he chuckles, finding it adorable how they were simply falling apart just by his fingers. You simply nodded, too engrossed in the feeling to form words to express it out to him. Before you had the chance to savour the feeling, you felt his pushing one of his fingers inside you, letting a yelp escape your lips as he pushes it in and out, slowly yet pacing with every passing second as you moan a mess for him “Hee-eseung ahh, i-it f-feels too g-good o-oh fuck” You exclaim, eyes rolling back at the feeling as you feel your organism progressing forth. “Yeah? It feels cherishing?” You could pick up the hints of mischievousness in his tone yet again but you were high enough on your organism to let out any words to agree with him. “Let go of it, my love.” Those words were enough for you to untie the knot in your stomach, welcoming your arousal on the tip of his fingers as he pulls out, relishing the taste as he licks his fingers clean, hips lips falling apart as he speaks, “Sweet and devouring, just like you.” Your face flushes at his words, letting your grip loosen on the sheets as you hear the unbuckling of his belt, causing you to lift up your head as your eyes traced down to his fingers fumbling with his lowers, getting rid of each and every one of the clothing.

“Lift your hips up for me, love.” he whispered close to your ears, sending butterflies through your body as you granted him the favor as his hands gripped on your legs, pulling them over his shoulders to get a better access. “Let me know when it hurts okay?” He spoke, his tender gaze meeting yours as you nodded. With a single swift motion, he dunked his shaft deep inside you, causing a moan to escape your lips as you held onto his shoulders, thrusting slowly as he held onto your hips, placing soft kisses near your orbs. “My beautiful woman, taking me in so perfectly.” A low moan escapes his lips as he tugs on his bottom lip, throwing his head back on how graceful you look underneath him; with the moonlights cascading down to on you, reflecting against your brimming hazel orbs as the beads of sweat drip down from your forehead, your messy locks spread wild whilst your milky skin contrasted the monochrome shades of plum bedsheet. With every thrust he gives, he kisses away your tears, his fingers rubbing circles against your hips, whispering nothing but appreciation in your ears as loud moans continue to escape your lips, with him taking in each and every one of them in a gentle kiss. “Hee, I-I’m c-close.” You whimper, with your words almost leaving as a whisper as you hear him speak. “I am too, just let go when you can.” And with those words he continues to let slow thrusts, letting your arousal hit your peak once again as you let go, your expressions relieving as he his muscles contract. “F-Fuck Y/n, I’m coming too.” He throws his head back, pulling out as he lets go of his organism, his body faltering as he lets his head lose, both of you panting after the intercourse. 

“You…you did so well my love.” He spoke, taking deep breaths as he looked up to meet your eyes, a smile lingering on your lips as you chuckle. “You were good enough to make me feel like on cloud nine.” You spoke, causing him to chuckle as he drops next to you, wrapping his arms around your waist as he pulls you close, nuzzling his face in the crook of your neck. “No, you were the one to take in so well my angel.” He placed a soft kiss on your forehead. You both stayed in each other’s embrace for a few good minutes, residing in each other’s comfort as his hands caressed your shoulders. His eyes never left yours as you broke in a laughter. “What are you staring at?” you spoke, captivating each and every one of his features as your fingers traced his jawline. “I’m staring at someone who reflects my whole universe.” He spoke cheekily, causing you to roll your eyes playfully at him. “You’re so cheesy, Hee. You hype me up for no reason.” You spoke, causing him to let out a dramatic gasp as he spoke. “For no reason?” His eyes widened at your words as he spoke. “You complete my life. If I were to pick that one best thing that happened in my life, it would be getting married to you.” He spoke as he peppered kisses on your face, starting with your cheeks as he spoke, “You,” then your forehead, “complete,” followed by your nose, “my,” and then your lips, “whole life.” letting small giggles escape your lips as you hugged his torso. “You’re mine too.” you spoke, letting the silence engulf the two of you again as he once again broke it. “Shower?” You turned to face him as you spoke, “Only if you don’t go for something else.” He laughed at your words. “No no I promise. It’s just the aftercare.” His eyes sparkled under the moonlight as his fingers grazed through your locks.

note#2: T T I tried my best, I never had an experience of writing these type of contents. If there are any grammatical errors, please ignore because English is not my first language. Feel free to leave comments and re-blog <3

#enhypen #enhypenimagines #heeseung #sunghoon #jay #jungwon #enhypen smut #enhypen fanfiction #enha smut #heeseung smut #enhypen hard hours #enhypen hard headcanons #heeseung x reader #heeseung imagines #sunoo #enhypen niki #jake enhypen

[callsigns-haze]

Pretty like a crime

Chapter 1

Pairing: Agent Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x Singlemom! Agent Y/n 'Cobra' Y/l/n

Word count: 2.5k

A/n: This is the first official post to my new series so please be nice! I'm going to try to make this into a series so please show this story a bit of love and reblog!

Summary: Cobra is finally back on the agency and is finally back in the job. With Kai at home she has to jumble being a mother and a agent. She's sent to her first U.C mission but never thought that she would meet a blonde, green eyed Texan...

Warning: Drinking, fluff, flirting, mentions of abuse, details of abuse

The mission force parties.

Something everyone despised. The dress code, faking complements, conversation without end and the talks that nobody listened to but still it was annual and any who could come was most likely forced.

You didn't hate these events but you didn't enjoy them either. They felt like they were never ending, they were so boring you nearly fell asleep before but nobody could judge you. But truly you haven't been at this event in years. The last time was probably a year before giving birth to Kai.

Kai was the reason you stopped with the mission force. He was a little kid with his mother running a crazy job which wasn't at all fair on his behalf. He was young and didn't know about any of this and you hope to keep it that way until he's older and way more mature.

The only reason you liked these events was the chance to be able to show off something different from your skill of fighting or shooting. Everyone expressed their elegance.

You're here wearing a black slit dress, another silky material that went a bit past your toes, falling graciously around your feet even in the high leather heels that you've chosen for tonight's wearing. You had your hair slicked back and made into a flower bun which looked as if it was blossoming and unfolding at the back of your head. The best thing about this whole dress was the very high slit up your leg, being very sneaky and high up your thigh.

But enough about you and back to the party. This was an official gathering of the mission force and their lovers in a great hall eating, meeting new people, exchanging stories and getting way too tipsy by the end of the evening. And here yet again you're hoping to escape this one early.

I mean you have a babysitter but she sits with your son nearly the full day and now you asked her to do it tonight, and let me say she has never said no but you still felt slight guilt due to this happening. She has been at your house nonstop now and it makes you feel sad not being able to take care of your own kid.

You slip between bunches of people, trying not to get smashed in between bodies and make your way to the left far corner. You see there's always people in big groups at the door greeting each other, hugging and talking, which just blocks the whole hallway. It was annoying but let's be honest that's just society.

You lean your back against the wall, sighing in relief you got out of that warzone before anyone engulfed you in a conversation. You slipped your phone out of your purse, texting your babysitter. You just wanted to know how your little boy is doing.

You slowly take your gaze away from the glass screen and turn your focus to the people around you. This whole party was mostly filled by male agents. How patriarchal but it is what it is. You look around a bit more to see who actually is going to be at the gathering.

Most are admirals, division leaders, commanders and their wives. It's always fun to see which couple fights first in the night, it always ends that way. Some married couple always ends up in an argument in the middle of the party. It's quite amusing actually. Fills the atmosphere with laughter.

You were about to drop your gaze back down to your phone but a man who has filled your entire childhood approaches you.

"Ice," you say, as you're engulfed in the older man's hug. You wrap your arms around his neck pulling him in close, head in his chest, whiffed by the smell of his cologne and let out a small sigh.

You see this man is your whole family besides Kai. You've been an orphan from the age of eleven and your uncle Ice was the one to bring you under his wing.

Your mother worked undercover too. She worked usually on drug dealer cases, going under cover to gain their trust. She got herself trapped in the mess herself and overdosed two days before your sixth birthday. Your dad was left to raise a little girl alone and had no clue how to manage it. Even though your mother may have barely been around it still brought support to your family. Your dad worked as a cop and had to work some pretty mad hours and those hours did not fit in with raising a six year old. He was your whole world and got shot in the head four days before Christmas morning.

Ever since then it's been Ice who raised you as his own. Never wanting to replace your parents but to replace the feeling of being alone and that he did really well. He didn't have kids of his own with his wife but to the two of them, you were their kid.

He kisses your head as the two of you pull back and he gets a proper look at his little girl and sighs, "Every time I see you know, you're a completely different woman." That makes you blush he always knew the right thing to say to make a smile form out of your glossed lips.

"I'm so happy to see you," you say looking him in the eye finally feeling like you belong somewhere at this party. You didn't feel like leaving anymore, with Ice you feel comfort like when you were a little girl. Comfort that you need after the last crazy months. "Happy to see you too, kiddo."

"I have some people that you need to meet," he says calmly, not like a command but not like a suggestion of choice. He wraps his arm around you and you are lead to a group of people. Some you think you recognize.

"I'd like you to meet the daggers," your uncle introduced you to the squad but you don't even listen your eyes lay upon a familiar blonde from a few weeks back.

Your eyes meet with those deep green ones and something in you sparks, something you haven't had in years but what where you even thinking. This guy worked for your uncle and you couldn't feel this about your uncles employee. It was wrong but maybe it's just the eye contact, it's not like it was actually something big or anything after all, just a meeting.

"Daggers, this is my beloved niece, Agent Cobra," your uncle introduces you to the group of unknown personalities. Each of them give you a short but sweet smile, holding their arm out an introducing themselves one by one. The other you recognize from the night a bit back was the tall baby cow eyed, mustached macho. He introduced himself as Agent Rooster.

Each agent had their own code name which they were given by the mission force themselves. Each of theirs was different, with many yet to know meanings, some to do with culture, some to do with interest and some you just got out of pure luck.

When it got around to the blonde who saved you previously he had the same strong tone and tint of accent in his voice as he said, "Pleasure we meet again," as he shook your hand, probably not to pleased that you left him lying in the middle of an alleyway after tripping him up even though he saved your life.

"You two have met," Iceman inquired, with a strong tint of confusion and surprise in his voice. Yes the two of you've met and maybe you haven't stop thinking about what happened ever since but that has nothing to do with any of this. "Our last missions interlinked, in one way or another," you say smirking at the blonde who is supposedly known as 'hangman' rewinding the scene of you tripping him up in your head.

"You could say so," he answered, his smirk matching your equally. His hair again was nicely styled and slicked back as he wears the nice black suit, quite similar choice as the last night but this time more formal, filled with elegancy.

Your uncle starts an conversation with the crew, you at his side, in his expectancy listening but here you were looking at hangman. There was something about him that you couldn't figure out. It's like an weird aura or feeling you have about him that's not been able to get shaken off. There was something special about him.

The night was young and calm but the conversations were like no other. You've found out that from now on you will be more intertwining with the dagger squad and will be paired up with the Texan blonde. Usually you've no interest of who you shall go with but this time you couldn't help but smile to yourself.

You've got to know some stories about the squad and their missions and truly the way they explained their situations sounded like they've enjoyed the missions even if failing could equal death. They seemed really close with each other, something like a family. It's good to have a family like group in the mission force otherwise you'd never make it alone.

Your thoughts were quite deep but still not sinking as they get easily broken by a question asked from Maverick, "Cobra, is Matthew not joining us tonight?"

The question you still haven't a clue how to answer. Your ex husband and father of your child. The man you haven't heard from since you packed your things while he was on a mission, leaving him divorce papers and leaving him forever.

"No, not tonight." Why not say that things have ended between the two of you? You haven't spoken with Matthew ever since you left England. The two of you didn't end on good terms.

 "Y/n!" I hear Matthew scream as I enter the house. I speed walk over to the living room to see him sprawled out on the couch drunk and smoking yet another cigarette. "Matt!" I gasp at the horrific scene. This was not the man I fell in love with. But this wasn't the first time. "Why are you late?" Matthew asks as he raises his voice. He sits up from the couch, throws the cigarette to the ground, and crushes it with his bare heel. "I-I'm not! I swear it!" I say in defense and I raise my hands. "Hmmm, ok. You may have not been late but who brought ya home?" Matthew asks as he circles around me like a vulture, with his arms locked behind him. I deeply gulp. Since I left my wallet at home so I couldn't pay for a taxi, I asked my friend Jason if he could give me a ride. Matt may or may not hate this Jason guy to pieces. "I… I um… I rode a taxi, like usual," I say, trying my best to not get caught. "Oh so you didn't leave this?" Matt pulls out my purse and throws it at my face. "Matt-" "Save it you lying bitch!" He yells and slaps me across the face. I fall weakly, as I let all the tears I've kept in for ages out of my system. "Matt please! I'm sorry!" I cry and I shield my face from the monster in front of me. "Sorry isn't going to cut it! You lied to me," he spits. "I lied because I didn't want you to get mad!" I cry, attempting to reason with him. "Too late!" He growls.

You sunk back into your thinking and the conversation continued normally but you were still in thought of the blonde in front of you. It is the smiles, the gentle shrugs and the light in your eyes. That we are both elevated by each other's presence is obvious and even the silences are comfortable. He listens as if your words are golden, perhaps some elixir he's been waiting all his days to hear. From what he says next you can tell he is thinking so deeply, already with a strategy that's several moves ahead of what you am capable of. And in his words are a kindness, a concern that is so quick that, for him, it is natural. This attentiveness is apart of who he is and that is, if your honest, the most attractive feature you haven't seen in a man for quite some time.

--------------

And that's how the night ends, full of conversations and new knowledge. You're now going to be working with the group and are going to be assigned to the San Diego Mission Force and will be working along side of them.

You stand outside waiting for your ride and the same guy, that you couldn't take your eyes off, approaches you, "Calm night isn't it." When his brain came fully online, it flashed an electric smirk. "One of the calmest." Your smile is the sunshine and the birdsong, it is the silencing of the clocks, it is both the cage and the ever open door.

He was handsome from the depth of his eyes to the gentle expressions of his voice. He was handsome from his generous opinions to the touch of his hand upon your own. You loved the way his voice quickened when he sparkled with a new idea, or was so enjoying one of yours that he lost himself for a moment and quite forgot the mask he wore for others.

"So why did you through me onto the floor," he asks out of nowhere. A question you quite didn't expect. You're at a loss for words because You're not sure how a soul as pure as his has survived this long in this world. You're not only soft hearted, you're tough enough to stay that way. That takes a kind of bravery that you're still processing, hence the silence.

"Well it's quite hard to trust a man who randomly comes to you with a gun," you say, glancing down upon your phone checking the time and how far your taxi was away. Usually you try to get away from these parties as soon as possible but somehow his presents makes you feel like staying.

"I guess that a valid reason. I would like to say, I'm truly looking forward to working with you," His large hands play with your smaller ones, the simple jester made you tired. You let him mess with them, you just wanted to rest. You could feel your hands be moved all over the place, then felt small kisses being placed on them as he sees your taxi arrive.

"Me too, Agent Hangman, me too."

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[theoddcatlady]

The Man Called Daffodil

I thought I grew up in a good neighborhood, surrounded by good people. Everyone said good morning to each other in the morning, my mom was friends with our neighbors, and we all went to church together. In my young mind, that made us very good people.

Then Daffodil came to town and turned my world upside down.

I first met Daffodil when he knocked on our door. Mom was absorbed in a book she was reading so I went to go answer the door. I thought I was mature enough to do so at six years old, and plus, I had Bear- a dog mixed with a million different breeds but was big and looked pretty intimidating. Dad got him for us before he shipped out overseas, for his own peace of mind. Someone to keep us safe while he was off keeping the country safe.

I didn’t expect to see a skinny rail of a guy standing on the porch, bouncing on his heels as he waited for someone to answer the door. His cheeks were bright red, he had a short beard and curly blond hair, a guitar that had seen better days was slung over his back, but what really got my attention was that he wasn’t wearing any shoes.

“Hello!” He knelt down to my level, grinning broadly. “Is there any chores or work I could do for your family to earn my bread?”  

I glanced at Bear to see his reaction to this bizarre fellow. Normally my dog would at least be a little apprehensive around a stranger, but much to my surprise Bear was happily panting away. The man looked at Bear and actually squealed. “Oh, a good boy!” He gave Bear’s ears a scratch and Bear licked his hand.

I craned my neck in and yelled for my mom, “Mom, there’s a man here who wants to do work for bread. Can I have him help clean my room?”  

“Sure, sweetie!”  

Of course, my mom was distracted. She loved her books. But since she said it was okay, I let the man in. He bowed his head politely. “Thank you, thank you so much. Sun was about to burn me alive. My friends call me Daffodil, what’s yours?”

“I’m Will. Come on, let’s go clean my room.” Mom said I had to, after all, before I went to go play, and if all Daffodil wanted was bread then what was the harm?

Daffodil was a very efficient cleaner, and I learned quickly he was a complete weirdo but he was nice. He asked the names of all my stuffed animals, asked about my favorite games to play, my favorite color. When he wasn’t asking about me, he was humming tunes to songs I didn’t know.  

We just got done when Mom popped in to ask who I was talking to and screamed when she saw a strange man in her son’s bedroom. “Who- Will, who is that?!” She grabbed me by the back of the shirt and yanked me away.  

“Mom, it’s the man I told you wants to work for bread! You said it was okay!” I complained.

Daffodil politely bowed his head. “Not to be argumentative, ma’am, but he’s right,” He said.

My mom was pretty embarrassed, but in the end Daffodil did end up staying for dinner. She came to the same conclusions I did- weird, but absolutely harmless. He was a traveler, just planning on cooling his heels in town for a while.

How long was a while?

“Maybe a week, maybe a century. I’ll make up my mind later.”  

As he left, he gave me a dried out flower. “Thank you for dinner,” He said before tipping his head once more and skipping down the street.  

I still have that flower on my desk.  

Daffodil did end up staying a while, several years in fact. He’d typically go door to door, asking for work in exchange for something to eat or a place to sleep. If he wasn’t doing that, you’d find him in the park playing guitar for tips or selling pressed wildflowers. His songs told stories of home, of gardens that went for miles and a wife named Rose and another named Dahlia and their dozen children inbetween them. I rather liked his songs, even though apparently he had some raunchier ones that my mom told me about when I was older. He never sung them around the kids though.

My mom gave him a pair of my dad’s old boots during winter, and I swear he did a little dance and promised to dedicate a song to her. When my dad got home, he was also a little hesitant about Daffodil (I’m pretty sure I heard him ask mom if Daffodil was a queer), but I thought it was impossible not to warm up to such a charming fellow.  

I learned better when I got older.

See, Daffodil never minced his words. Never pulled any punches. He got into several heated arguments with one of the neighbors, Mr. Robert Miller, about why he wouldn’t go to church. Miller was a quite devout Christian, always trying to convince the ‘lost sheep’ of God to join the flock. Most people knew better than to try to argue with him about it.  

Daffodil was not most people.

I was about nine when I overheard one argument between the two.

“Mr. Miller, I am well aware you’ll put a roof over my head and food in my mouth if I go to church, but again I don’t think it’s very Christ like to blackmail me like that.”

“It’s not blackmail. I’m just trying to help you-”

“No, no, you’re helping yourself feel good.”

“How dare you!”

I enjoying a good amount of eavesdropping as a kid, so I kept myself hidden behind the fence dividing our two yards as I continued to listen in on this bickering.

“I’ve been around the block a few times, Mr. Miller, I know how it works. The moment we’re done here, you’re going to run to all your other little church friends and talk about the heathen that won’t hear God, you will pray together and pat yourselves on the back for doing a job well done.”  

“What is wrong with you?!”

“Nothing. Or a lot of things, depends who you ask. I found my version of god in song and in nature. I’m at peace with that.”

“You’re one of those, aren’t you? Is that why you won’t go to church?”

There was a pause before I heard Daffodil sigh.

“I am not inclined to share my sexual past with anyone, Mr. Miller. Good day.”

“You are then! You’ll burn in hell, faggot!”

I’d never heard that word before. But the way he spat it out so venomously almost frightened me. I almost asked my mom what it meant, but I lost my nerve, given it sounded like a bad word and I didn’t want to get in trouble.

Didn’t lose my nerve to ask Daffodil though, next day while he raked leaves for old Ms. Reed.

“What’s a faggot, Daffodil?”

He didn’t even miss a beat as he twirled the rake in the air. “A bundle of sticks,” He responded.  

“That’s all? Like a bitch is a female dog?” I couldn’t say these words around my mom. But I could ask Daffodil anything and he’d tell me the truth.

“Sorta.”

I remember him laughing and performing another twirl of the rake. “Will boy, just know that Mr. Miller meant it in a way to cut me down. It’s a nasty word, so don’t use it. You can use some of the other bad words when you get old enough, but that’s just one of the words you can’t.”

“Why?” I asked.

Daffodil never got mad when I asked why, but this time he looked a little sad as he reached over and ruffled my hair.  

“You’ll understand one day.”

And I did understand one day. I suppose Daffodil wasn’t exactly hypermasculine, he put flowers in his hair, danced down the street to no music, cried when he was emotional and was not afraid to get excited over things like baby bunnies or dogs. To be totally transparent though, I don’t think Daffodil was gay. He was too much of a flirt with any women close to his age.  

Didn’t matter though. He was a piece of pyrite surrounded by the asphalt on the cul de sac and people didn’t like that too much.  

It really came to a head when I was twelve. Daffodil was one of my friends, my parents loved having him for dinner and it wasn’t often that he wasn’t crashing on our couch, snoring like a freight train and his oversized legs hanging over the couch arm. I felt like he was a cool uncle, the guy I could turn to whenever I had a problem or question.

I was doing dishes while my mom was enjoying a glass of wine with Mrs. Miller in the living room. I still hadn’t learned not to eavesdrop, so I took a break from the suds to listen in.

“-And I just don’t know if it’s a good idea to have him hanging around Will all the time.”

I heard my mom laugh. “Anna, Daffodil’s harmless. Weird, definitely, but harmless.”

“Well, you know he’s… you know… like that. What if Will turns out like that too?”  

“Anna, you can’t seriously believe Daffodil is homosexual. Really, I think you’re making a mountain out of a molehill.”

“I just care about you and your son! And god knows what he might have if he is a homo, what if he gives Will AIDS?”

“Anna!” My mom sounded horrified, and I felt the same. I did not like the implication that Mrs. Miller was throwing out there.  

“I’m being serious!”

“And I’m being serious when I say, again, Daffodil isn’t gay and he doesn’t have AIDS. Besides, I think the neighborhood’s done well with him around. You know we haven’t had anything really bad happen since he started staying around here? No one’s lost their job, everyone has a good looking yard, no one’s gotten badly sick or died…”

“What, are you saying he’s had something to do with that?”

“Well, maybe he’s a good luck charm. Let’s change the subject. How’s Levi, has his grades improved?”

I went back to the kitchen after the subject changed. I genuinely hoped it was just the Millers with such nasty thoughts, that their venom was contained in the family.

I was wrong. Mr. Miller was a deacon at the church at this time and had the respect of a lot of parishioners. His nasty thoughts had taken root in many people’s minds.

I don’t know why I was out late that night. It was hot, maybe I couldn’t sleep, but I wasn’t really the kind of kid to wander the streets after dark. This is the only night I remember doing it. I heard a commotion and followed the sound, curiosity killed the cat but satisfaction brought it back, Daffodil taught me.

I found a mob of twelve men and all of them had surrounded Daffodil. For the first time in my life I saw Daffodil look afraid.  

“You don’t have to do this,” He said, hands raised in the air. He wasn’t armed. He was defenseless.

I saw Mr. Miller lift up a baseball bat. “We told you to leave, Daffodil. You wouldn’t listen. You forced us to do this,” I swear I heard pure evil in his voice that night.

Daffodil looked down and then he looked straight at me. I heard him mutter ‘stay put’ before he looked back at Mr. Miller. “Then I suppose I’ll cease to speak. My words have fallen on deaf ears for long enough. Do what you came to do.”

They descended on him like a pack of wild dogs, and he never fought back, not once.  

I watched them beat him into the ground with bats or golf clubs or whatever the hell they brought. They beat him while he howled in pain, they beat him until he only whimpered, and they beat him until he was still and quiet. When they left, all clearly proud of what they’d done, that’s when I crawled out of my hiding spot and hurried to Daffodil’s side.

He didn’t even look like a human anymore, he looked like fresh roadkill. That friendly face that I never saw without a smile before tonight was swollen and broken, the flowers in his hair were squashed on the ground…  

“Daffodil?”

Somehow, Daffodil turned his head towards the sound of my voice. “… Will. Good… good boy, for not leaving your hiding spot…”

“Why wouldn’t you let me help you?” My eyes overflowed with tears, they landed on my friend’s face.

“Because… I couldn’t stand the thought of you getting hurt for me, my little friend.”

A shaky hand, one with fingers bent in horrifying angles, reached up and touched my face, smearing blood across my cheek.

“Thank you for listening to me. Thank you… for being my friend.”

I waited until he seemed to stop breathing before I dragged him off the road and into the nearby woods. He was far too heavy for me to consider doing this in a sane state of mind, but I was on autopilot at this point. All I could think of was how they might further desecrate Daffodil’s body in the morning. How they’ll say he deserved it, and then put him in a grave that didn’t have a proper headstone and not even a name.  

I folded his arms over his chest, like he was just sleeping. I covered him in leaves and flowers. I took one and put it in his hair, tucked behind his ear.

This was the grave he deserved. The best a twelve year old boy could do.  

I didn’t eat for two days after Daffodil’s death. I didn’t leave my room. My mom was confused as to what was wrong until she realized Daffodil hadn’t shown up. Miller claimed he just left town but mom knew he wouldn’t have left without saying goodbye.

She managed to pry the real story from me and then she called the police.  

Here’s the kicker though- the body was gone. They found the grave I made for him, the piles of leaves and flowers, but there was no Daffodil. My mom told me that maybe Daffodil was okay, that he got up and just chose to quietly leave, but I knew I saw him stop breathing.  

You know how my mom said Daffodil was a good luck charm, right? I think she was right. Well, half right. Daffodil was good luck to the people that did him good, and their neighbors prospered because of that. But Daffodil wasn’t going to give that kindness any longer to the people that beat him and left him for dead.

The week after Daffodil’s death, I saw him.  

I couldn’t sleep. I hadn’t been able to sleep well since the incident. I was staring out the window when I saw a familiar head of golden hair walk into the space between ours and the Millers. I couldn’t believe it. I rubbed my eyes a dozen times before I got up and pulled the window up, ready to call out to my friend to see if it was really him or if it was just a dream.

The word froze in my mouth when I realized I wasn’t sure if this was really Daffodil. Sure, he had the golden hair and the beard, but he was… different. Taller, which was quite a feat given he was already a giant. There was this unnatural glow about him, and he wore strange clothes. If this had been a few years later, I’d say he looked dressed to be in a ren fair.  

One look confirmed though that he wasn’t wearing shoes. It was still Daffodil.

He turned to look at me and now he smiled, but there was an unfamiliar mischievousness to it. He put a finger to his lips to shush me before he opened the window and reached inside. Out he pulled the Miller’s infant daughter, Rebecca. He cradled her for a brief moment before he turned his head behind him and whistled.

Two women walked out from the bushes. I didn’t recognize them. Both were also quite tall, one with hair almost silver in the moonlight wearing a white gown and the other with midnight black hair cut short to her jaw and a sword hanging from her waist. Daffodil handed Rebecca to the swordswoman who bounced her up and down a few times before walking away. I saw the silver haired woman slip in through the window and a few minutes later left the front door with the Miller’s two sons, four year old Micah and seven year old Asher. Both were still in their pajamas but clung to the woman’s hands and looked at peace with her. She walked down the street and vanished in the dark.

Now it was just Daffodil again. He looked at me, still smirking, before he rubbed his hands together before lifting them up to his mouth and blowing on them. I saw sparks fly out from his palms and dance in the air before going black.

The next thing I remember is waking up the next morning to police all over the street. The three youngest Miller children were gone. And the eldest, seventeen year old Levi, was dead. Autopsy would later reveal he had gone undiagnosed with brain cancer, even though he’d just had a physical a few months prior and he was healthy as a horse.  

Sure, I was asked if I’d seen anything, since my window was closest to the Miller’s, but I just remembered Daffodil putting his finger to his lips and told them nothing.  

Only one child of the Millers would be found, baby Rebecca, returned to her crib. But a week in and Mrs. Miller looked ready to have a meltdown. A teatime with mom and she confided all about how Rebecca never slept, only cried, and how she swore she heard her daughter giggling whenever she wasn’t in the room.  

That child was certainly not Rebecca, but once again I kept my mouth shut.  

Things went downhill for the Millers the fastest, but they weren’t alone. Several other households faced their own bizarre and sudden catastrophes. The Petersons were in a terrible car accident that cost Mr. Peterson his legs and Mrs. Peterson her memory. To her death, she believed every morning was July 21, strangely not the day of the accident but the day of Daffodil’s disappearance. The Caldwells had a nasty divorce after Mrs. Caldwell got mysteriously pregnant, even though Mr. Caldwell had a vasectomy. It’d later come out she was approached by a young handsome man and they had a moment of passion in the backseat of Mr. Caldwell’s car.  

The Anderson’s house burned down. The Rivers were infertile. The Ward’s prize garden wilted and died while Mr. Ward wasted away with an illness no doctor could diagnose. The Reeves lost their jobs. I could go on. But I’m sure you guessed by now what each of the families had in common.

Each of those families had someone directly involved with Daffodil’s beating.

While everyone else’s family was suffering disaster after disaster, ours only prospered. Bear’s health held strong until he was nearly sixteen, long time for a big dog. My parents thought they were out of luck when it came to having another kid, but mom became pregnant with twins. I insisted one be named Daffodil. They compromised and Marie’s middle name is Daffodil. They were also approved to adopt and that’s when I got a brother just a few months younger than me, Brian. We became thick as thieves the day he came into our lives and we’re still quite close. My dad got an amazing job when he was discharged from the army, mom got some serious promotions so we got to go on amazing vacations and make amazing memories.  

I was eighteen when Mr. Miller finally cracked and hung himself. He’d lost everything- his job after he failed a drug test that he should’ve passed with flying colors, his position as a deacon after said failed drug test made common knowledge, his wife after she was just done with his bullshit, he just had to give up the car because of the debt he was in and was about to lose the house. In his suicide note he did confess to Daffodil’s murder and named the other conspirators as well. A few of them were already dead from various means, but the others got in pretty deep shit, even though they couldn’t be officially charged without a body apparently.  

Sometimes I wondered if I dreamed that night I saw Daffodil outside. Sometime I even believed it.

But it’s been a long time since then. I have a family of my own now, married the love of my life and we have a six year old daughter, Iris. I actually own the Miller’s house, I got it for a steal because of the suicide. My wife thinks it serves for great inspiration, she’s a horror novelist, so that works out.

Maybe I would’ve forgotten Daffodil one day if my daughter hadn’t run to get the door before I could stop her. Girl has no fear, probably like I did when I was her size.

I almost reached the living room when I heard her yell back, “Daaaaadddyyyy, there’s a man asking if we have bread!”

“Erm, not quite, if you have work so I can have bread. Close enough though.”

I never forgot that voice. I ran for the door, nearly tripping over the dog in the process. I whipped open the door the rest of the way, nearly bowling over Iris in the process.

He looks exactly the same as he did back then. Same beard, same guitar slung over his back, same lack of shoes. He stared at me for a few moments before his eyes widened and he grinned.

“Hello, Will! It’s so good to see you again. Mind if I help around the house? I like to work for my bread.”

#my stories

[blackstarmylove]

How Did You Get Shorter? (HC)

Fandom: Blackstar Theater Starless

Pairing: Teams W, B with fem!Reader

Warning: None

Requested by: @arleccine

Prompt: With teams W and B being used to a taller/same height reader, how would they react to her suddenly getting shorter than them after taking off her heels/changing into flats or sneakers? tho I doubt it would make a difference for Kongou, Rico, Sin and Kokuyou

A/N: For cast members above 180 cm, I am assuming the reader is still shorter than them even if they are wearing high heels.

———————————————

Doesn’t show it on his face but can’t get over how cute you look. Smiles at your tiny form when you’re not looking.

Sin honestly doesn’t mind when you wear heels, it makes it easier for him to give you kisses, but he really likes it when you wear flats. He loves the way you bury your face in his abdomen/chest when you hug him.

Truly enjoys ruffling your hair, even if it is just to see your pout or angy puppy expressions.

The moment Kongou sees you in flats, he freezes and stares at you, a blush slowly creeping onto his cheeks.

Just when he thought you couldn’t get any cuter, you proved him wrong by taking off your heels. Kongou falls in love with you all over again.

Whenever you wear flats, he will blush around you and stutter. Yes, he is just that affected by your height. Also, expect to get more hugs and kisses from him.

Aw, how cute, you were already short, and now you are shorter.  

Now that you finally showed him your “real” height, Kokuyou is going to tease you to no end, whether you wear heels or not.

If you get into any arguments with him, he will use your head as an elbow rest, or just throw you over his shoulder. That’s what you get for being tiny.

His fashionista side says no to you wearing flats - heels add grace and oomph to your walk, but Rico can’t deny that he likes seeing you without heels.

Makes him want to lift you up and shower you with kisses while teasing you about how cute and pocket-sized you are.

He will tease you about your height, but if Rico finds out that you are sensitive about the topic, he will back off very quickly. You are one person he doesn’t want to push away with his words.

Where did you go? Huh? You are short? Oh, wait...you were wearing heels, right...heels are meant to make the wearer tall.

Haha...it’s not like he didn’t put two and two together, but...he just...didn’t put two together.

Akira prefers you wear flats more than heels - your real height makes you look even cuter, and this man adores anyone and anything cute.

Smiles sweetly when he first sees you in flats. Adorable - you look adorable.

Whenever he sees you in heels, he worries about your health and your bones. He doesn’t want you to suffer any bone or muscle issues, so seeing you in flats is a relief for him.

Could get used to you wearing flats - if not for your well-being, for the sake of feeling you nuzzle your face into his chest. It is one of the best feelings for him.

It's about time you took off your heels and put on flats. He was wondering how long he would have to wait until you would show him your true height.

Like Akira, he also prefers you to wear flats more than heels, mainly for the sake of your poor feet. Not to mention, he has fun towering over you and making you blush by leaning close to your face.

Wonders if you wear heels due to your love for the shoes or due to insecurity about your height. Maybe he will ask you someday, but for now, he is going to enjoy placing kisses on the top of your head.

Cannot and will not stop laughing at how short you are. He will also tease you to no end, but if you get angry, he will apologize to you until you forgive him...and then tease you all over again.

But if someone else teases you about your height while wearing flats, Mizuki will kick them and tell them to shut up.

Prefers you wearing flats - it makes Mizuki feel more protective of your tiny form. He also loves holding you close to his chest and nuzzling his face on the top of your head.

How did he not notice your height before? Ohhhh, you were wearing heels because you weren’t tall. Kokuyou screaming in the background to put down that damn gaming console and pay attention to the surroundings.

His initial reaction is to chuckle and pat your head. He doesn’t want to risk teasing you or making any comments that might anger you.

Loves to hug you and rest his chin on the top of your head. Sometimes uses you as a chin rest just because he feels like it, even if you don’t approve of it.

Grin as widely as he possibly can and showers you with compliments about how cute you look - so much so, that he could give you a bone-crushing hug.

Really likes seeing you at a height shorter than him - it makes him want to protect you more. Don’t get him wrong, Ran loves seeing you in heels, especially when you threaten to use the heels to beat someone.

Will pat your head nonstop, and if you get upset with him, he will crouch down to your height and ask you to pat his head to make things even.

———————————————

➣ BlackStar Theater Starless Masterlists [1][2][3]     ➣ Main Masterlist

➣ Buy me a Ko-fi? ➣ Commission: Open || Requests: Closed

#bsts #blackstar theater starless #bsts kokuyou #bsts kongou #bsts akira #bsts mizuki #bsts sin #bsts ran #bsts taiga #bsts heath #bsts takami #bsts rico

[jahayla-parker]

Golden Arrows: Nathan Drake x Reader

Anonymous Request: “You got home from work, you got voicemail from your friend, you were invited to wedding for tomorrow as a guest. Next day, you put your emerald satin strappy maxi dress, necklace, and short heel sandals and also wavy hair. you get in church, it was so lovely, very crowded, you walks as you bump into someone, who is wearing a suit, you never met him before. You clear your throat as you may have seat as he maybe could be besides you, after that you went to wedding reception, just drink a bit of glass of champagne, just look at view. Suddenly he came in to you, you two talks a lots at each other, you never met someone like him who is funny, charming and optimistic, then he take you home just as you thought it would”

Summary: 6.2k wc, reader attends an event that Nathan Drake (Nate) happens to be at as well but for a very different reason. What happens when the reader finds herself falling for Nate but he is there to steal an item from the reader?

Thank you my lovely little anon for your request! I tried to combine all the aspects you requested and kinda went way over haha.

Warnings: suggestive (but no smut), a few curse words, mentions of alcohol, stealing.

P.s. This is NOT thoroughly proofread as I am about to board my plane but wanted to post it first!

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y/f/n: your friend’s name

y/f/e: your friend’s ex’s name

y/n/n: your nickname 

and as always y/n: your name

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Dropping my keys into the coffee table, I slump into the leather couch and sigh. It’s been a long week, but at least tomorrow is the weekend and I’ll have time off. I sluggishly pull my phone out of my pocket and notice a missed call and voicemail from y/f/n. As exhausted as I am, I know I should listen as she doesn’t call unless it’s serious. 

 “Y/n! You’re going to y/f/e’s wedding with me tomorrow! I ran into him today and was invited with a plus one. I can’t show up alone but don’t have time for a date! Plus I’ll need emotional support, no arguments! I’ll pick you up at 3!” Y/f/n screams over voicemail. I sigh and run my hands through my hair. 

Y/f/n has gotten me out of many uncomfortable situations before, at least now I can finally return the favor. That’s not to say I’m excited, I’d much rather stay home and rest. Accepting my fate, I get up and prepare my outfit for tomorrow. 

I settle on the best, yet also most revealing dress in my closet, a pair of 1 inch heels, and a set of golden accessories including my late mother’s golden arrow necklace. After setting the outfit out on my bed in front of me, I smile approvingly. I might as well make the most of the night, and maybe get some free drinks.

The lighting in the restroom is reflecting mesmerizingly off my spaghetti-strapped, vibrant silk dress that is dyed a deep emerald color. I take a moment to look at myself in the mirror. My dress has a plunging neckline, a bodycon-like waist, and an elegant yet sultry cut up the right leg.  The whole dress stops a few inches off the ground, just short enough to show off my gold 1 inch open heel sandals, and freshly painted emerald toenails. I smirk to myself. I may not be an overly confident woman often, but today I’m feeling great about myself. 

After finishing my final makeup touches, I carefully put on my mother’s necklace and the rest of my gold accessories. I smile at myself once again, loving the confidence this outfit has given me. I notice my fake lashes and cherry red lipstick make my facial features pop. My wavy hair stopping just above my shoulders. 

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I roll my eyes as y/f/n continues to flirt with the older man who requested to buy her a drink when we get to the reception. The man is at least 20 years older than us. It isn’t much of a pickup line given there are free drinks even now as we mingle before taking our seats. Yet, it seems to work. “Go have fun” she says as she catches me watching her. I sigh, I came here for her, only to find myself alone.

The church for the wedding ceremony is beautiful, but it is so crowded it’s hard to even see the stained glass windows sounding the wall. The wooden pews are freshly sealed and shiny. I try to push through the crowd to get to my seat without making a scene, but unfortunately there are too many people. I bump into or rub against person after person as I progress towards my seat. 

“Sorry, please -“ I say, beginning to request to pass once again as I bump into yet another attendee. However, I find my words cut short when I look up long enough to take him in. He’s my exact height, actually probably a bit taller given my heels. His gorgeous brown eyes hold a mysterious glimmer. I watch as his eyes meander over my body, slowly glancing down to my short heels and intently scanning back upwards towards my face. I bite the inside of my lip and smirk as I watch his walnut colored eyes return to mine. He instantly flushes crimson but tries to play it off by holding his hand out to me. 

“I’m Nathan, but you can call me Nate” he says with this alluring voice. I take my time exploring his body with my eyes, the way he did mine. He is wearing matte black dress shoes, a midnight blue suit with matte black accents and lapels, his jacket buttoned at the bottom of his torso. Under his jacket is a white dress shirt that is firmly pressed against his chest and a black tie. I gingerly bring my eyes up to his again before letting him take my hand in his palm. His flirtatious eyes sparkle as they glance at my lips before he hangs his head to kiss the back of my hand. 

“I take it you do this often?” I ask, clearing my throat and raising my eyebrow at him while shaking my head softly. “Do what?” He asks, pretending to be puzzled. I roll my eyes as I let my hand slip from his and back down to rest just above the slit in my dress. “Flirt with women at weddings” I retort, glancing around the crowded room. “Does it look like I’m talking to anyone else?” He asks, his eyes quickly taking in my mother’s necklace. “That’s not what I asked” I point out, placing my left palm against my hip as I adjust my stance. 

“Hmm, well no. I don’t normally even attend weddings. After all I don’t really see the point in such a charade” he says, grabbing two glasses of champagne from the waiter walking around trying to keep people calm as we wait to be told to take our seats. “Charade?” I ask, accepting one of the champagne glasses from Nate. “I’m sorry, I don’t mean to offend you. I’m not sure your relationship with the couple. It’s just I don’t see the point in marriage, it requires one to rely on another person so strongly and trust that they won’t abandon them or the relationship. In my experience, I don’t see that being common in families or relationships so I fail to see why marriage would change that” he says, throwing back his champagne. “I can understand that perfectly. It definitely makes it harder when your trust and emotions are wrapped up in someone else’s presence in your life” I agree, sipping on my drink as I feel the weight of my mother’s golden necklace weigh down on my neck as if hearing our conversation. 

I sense Nate’s eyes examining said necklace as though he knew the connection it has to my statement. Not caring to talk about my mother or her necklace, I finish my champagne in one gulp. “Well, it was nice to meet you, but I should get to my seat” I say, handing him the glass and stepping to his left to pass. “Wait!” He says, turning and delicately grasping my wrist. I don’t turn around but instead turn my neck over my shoulder to look at him. He is biting his lip and staring at me. “Yes?” I ask, turning my body a bit more towards him. “You never told me your name” Nate answers. 

I nod twice, “Y/N”. He smiles wide enough to show his snowy white teeth. I can’t help but smile back. He opens his mouth appearing to want to say something before he quickly raises his hand to scratch his right inner ear and sighs. “Well, I’ll see you around” I say, not sure what more there is to do and begin to walk to my seat. “I know… I know” I hear Nate mumble softly. “I couldn’t quite make that out. What was that?” I ask, turning around as he interrupts my approach yet again. 

“Oh, uh.. I was just talking to myself about how I shouldn’t let you sit by yourself. Especially when you don’t care for weddings either” he says, striding closer. Not fully believing him, I anxiously take hold of my mother’s necklace and run my finger absentmindedly over the intricate carvings along the arrow charm. She never told me where she got it, always saying I was too young to hear the story, but I know it was her favorite necklace. 

When she went on another work trip to some other country, she decided I was old enough to keep it safe until she returned. Granted I still wasn’t old enough to be told anything about the necklace, but at least she had begun to trust me with it. She had placed it cautiously around my neck when we said our goodbyes 7 years ago. That was the last time I saw or heard from her, or even about her until her coworker showed up and told me she died on the work trip. Once again, I was not told anything more about what happened, where the trip was, or even what it is my mom does for work. 

“Umm thank you, but I’m actually sitting wi-“ I begin as I come back to my senses and face y/f/n but she has her eyes locked on me and is signaling behind Nate’s back to sit with him. “Actually, sure” I say, rubbing the engravings once more before letting go of the necklace and letting it lay against my chest once again. He smiles and holds his hand out for me. I feel my cheeks flush and politely accept his direction and assistance even though I don’t need it. 

“See, told you” Nate snickers, his arm draped over my shoulder as he points to the aisle next to me. Just as he predicted, the bridesmaids are wearing horrendously vibrant pink dresses with cheap chunky jewels and sequins. I bite my lip to not laugh loudly, instead letting a small giggle escape. I turn to face him and we hold eye contact for awhile as he smiles at me, his arm still behind my neck. 

“Woah she looks beautiful!” I hear the young girl on the other side of me say just as the music changes to a different song and the bride enters the room. “She’s not the only one” Nate whispers, dragging his hand a bit back towards him but still on me; just more center on the back of my neck this time. I smirk “you really shouldn’t hype yourself up like that ya know. Girls like confidence but that’s just cocky” I joke. His eyes widen before realizing I’m joking. He laughs and shakes his head, “I was talking about you”. I feel his fingers dance over the back of my neck playfully but his gaze never leaves mine. 

Nate looks down at his lap as his free hand goes back up to his right ear again, “I can’t do this” he says quietly. “I know, we already discussed that” I tease. “What?!” He asks, his head instantly raising to look at me. “Getting married, we already said how neither of us understands the point of it. That is what you’re talking about right?” I ask in a hushed tone as the ceremony progresses before us. “Oh, yeah, right” he laughs timidly. “Well, relax Nate, it isn’t like anyone here is forced to go home with someone other than him” I say, pointing to y/f/e. He remains silent so I glance over at him and see him smirking as he watched me closely, “forced, no”. 

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“He’s cute, who is he?!” Y/f/n asks gleefully as she sips on the drink the man she snuck away from bought her. “His name is Nate” I laugh, not divulging any more information.  She winks, “are you thinking of going home with him?”. I play coy and shrug, knowing she’ll cause a scene if I outright tell her I’m tempted. “Well, better go get cozy again” she says, tipping her glass in his direction. 

I finish my champagne as I round the buffet tables, headed towards the hall where Nate is leaning up against a wall. Setting my glass down on the table nearest to me, I take a deep breath and touch my necklace for good luck. “You don’t get it Sully! It isn’t that I logistically can’t do it. It is that I don’t want to, it clearly means something to her. Plus, she m-“ Nate says, and only now do I notice the phone in his hand. I pause behind him, as I am not wanting to interrupt and also out of curiosity. 

“I know, but we need to figure something else out, I’m not pick pocketing Y/N’s necklace Sully. I won’t do it” Nate says angrily. I feel a tightness in my chest and take a shaky breath as I clutch my mother’s arrow charm even tighter in my left hand. Nate seems to hear me as he quickly turns around and gives me a remorseful look. I clench my teeth and use my empty hand to smack his irritatingly enchanting face. “Fuck you Nate” I say, spinning on my heels so fast I’m surprised I don’t fall. However, the anger and betrayal I feel keeps me upright as I stalk out of the hall and back into the reception center. 

Y/f/n is still chatting with the guy from before. I guess I need to just wait it out. However, the pain in my chest won’t leave and tears begin to form at the idea of something happening to the last piece of my mother I have left. When she died, her coworker scavenged the apartment and took most of the things from her locked office. Whereas the social workers who picked me up refused to let me take anything more than a weeks worth of clothes from my bedroom. I found out later that week that the bank took possession of the house thereafter and sold everything. This unique yet unimportant necklace is all I have left of her, and Nate, some random man I met at a random person’s wedding hit on me and was kind just to steal it?! Anger and more sadness bubbles up inside of me and I decide I need to do something about it. 

I stomp over to the bar and quickly ask for the strongest drink they have. The man behind the bar nods and promptly starts to make the drink. “You’re not even going to check her ID?” I hear a firm, yet somehow annoyingly warm voice asks. My brain instantly connects the voice to the man; Nate. I refuse to turn around and acknowledge his presence. The bartender glances up, “are you under 21?” He asks me. “No, ignore him” I groan, reaching into my clutch to pull out my ID. “Says she’s over 21” the bartender says, handing it back. 

“You don’t think she’d have a fake ID? Rookie mistake. Don’t lose your license over her wanting to prematurely drink” Nate says, placing his hand on my lower back in an attempt to lead me away from the bar. The bartender gives me a look that tells me Nate won. I glare at Nate and pick up the pace to get away from him. “Y/N, wait, please “ he calls out after me. 

“What the hell was that?!” I ask pointing aggressively towards the bar. Nate shrugs, “he doesn’t make it right anyways, it wouldn’t have tasted good”. I narrow my eyes at him even more, “that wasn’t the point! I don’t care what it tastes like”. He sighs, “because the intent was to get intoxicated”. I give him a look that causes him to straighten his back more, “you’re the reason behind that and yet you ruined that too”. Nate frowns, “I know. I’m sorry, I didn’t want to hurt you, but can’t we just talk about this? I can explain-“. 

“Explain?! Fine Nate, explain to me why you thought I wouldn’t be hurt by you attempting to steal my mother’s necklace from me. The one thing I have left of the dead woman I used to rely on 7 years ago!” I scream. Nate’s eyes widen and his expression looks even more ashamed and remorseful than he did in the hall when I caught him. Before he can attempt to respond, I’m speaking again, “Explain why is this random necklace so important that you would go through the whole charade this evening!?” 

This time, Nate responds before I can continue yelling at him, “charade?!”. “Yes Nate, the charade of you acting like you were interested in me, like you wanted to get to know me, and like you gave a damn about me!” I glare, really resenting not being able to have had a drink before this. “Y/N, that wasn’t a damn charade!” He argues, reaching out to grab my hand. I step back, still glaring at him. If I keep this up, I’m definitely going to have a headache tomorrow from the tension above my eyes. He sighs and closes his eyes. “No?! You really expect me to believe it wasn’t a ploy to get my necklace?!” I argue. His eyes quickly open and he meets my eyes. 

“If you recall, you bumped into me! I didn’t even notice you had the collier reine des flèches until after I was enthralled by you” Nate says, refusing to break eye contact. I open my mouth to object but he continues. “Look Y/N, I get it, I do. I didn’t know what the collier reine des flèches meant to you. But even before that I stopped even considering trying to take it because I knew it was wrong and I couldn’t do that to you. And I promise I’m not going to change my mind on that, regardless on if you forgive me or not” he rambles on. 

“What is that?” I ask, noticing he’s mentioned it twice. “What is what?” He asks, seemingly surprised that that is what I focused on from his statement. “The French sounding thing you said” I say, relaxing my eyes. “You knew it was French but not what it means?” He asks intrigued. “My mom taught me clue to pick up on what language someone is speaking even without an accent. Now your turn” I tell him, crossing my arms over my chest. 

He laughs softly and nods, “It is the name of that there necklace” he says, pointing at my mother’s gold necklace and intricate arrow charm dangling off of it. I try to think if there are any words in the name that sound familiar. I learned a little French since my mom was always speaking it in her office. But, I never knew enough to understand full sentences nor learn what she was talking about. “It’s rough translation is ‘queen of arrows necklace’. It dates back centuries and used to belong, as its name suggests, to Queen Marceline Kybele” Nate explains after noticing my confusion. 

“How do you know all of this?” I ask, cautious of his motivations still. He may have decided not to take it earlier but this could be another ploy to get me to lower my guard. “I guess you could say I am a treasure hunter and the collier reine des flèches is a crucial relic said to unlock the path to Queen Kybele’s hidden gem chest” he says slowly. “Why is she called the queen of arrows if her chest is full of gems?” I ask aloud before I can stop myself. Nate smirks a bit before smiling, “her army only ever used arrows to defend the kingdom and the shovels her gem seekers used to dig up said gems were shaped as arrows both in regards to the blade, which was a downwards arrow, and the handle which was a dull upwards facing arrow”. 

While I get the sense Nate is saying all of this to show off, I can’t help but be intrigued. I never knew exactly what my mom did, but I knew it had to do with artifacts from other countries; hence the language lessons. “Why would my mom have this?” I question, asking my more important question this time. “Why, I’m not sure. How, has an easier answer” Nate says. I raise my eyebrow, “are you suggesting she stole it?”. “Y/N, I wish I could tell you no, but from now on I’m not going to lie or hide anything from you” he says kindly. 

I’m still hesitant to trust him but something in his eyes is so assuring. Regardless of whether I can trust him or not, I need to try and understand as much as I can about the necklace and my mother. It seems he may know more about her than I do. “And that means it is okay to steal it back?” I ask, taking a seat at one of the decorated tables surrounding the ballroom floor. 

“It was an excuse I gave myself. You’re telling me you’ve never done something just to get by?” Nate asks, sitting next to me. “I’m not saying that in the slightest,” this causes Nate to smirk, “I’ve done plenty I didn’t care for in order to keep a roof over my head and feed myself after I aged out of the system”. Nate’s hands stop tapping the table as he watches me even more scrutinizingly. “You were in the system?” He asks. I nod, “and don’t you dare give me that look of pity everyone gives when they find out”. He shakes his head with a chuckle, “no, I get it. I was too, so no pity from me”. I give him a nod, “okay, good, no pity. I’m still trying to decide if I like you or not, the last thing I need is you feeling sorry for me”.

“I can’t believe it” I say, pushing my chair back from the table by extending my arms and sliding back. “Y/N,” Nate says, standing up. “No.. I… I’m not mad at you. Well, still irritated, but after all of this” I say, waving my hand around in the air as if one could point to the long conversation we just had. “I’m not mad and I’m starting to trust you. Well, at least what you say. I just…. I can’t… you know more about my mom than I do or ever did” I say shaking my head to myself. “Hey, come here” he says, inching closer and taking me into a hug, “I’m sure that’s not true”.

“Nate?” I ask, stepping out of his arms as the song ends and I notice hardly anyone else was dancing. It was Nate’s suggestion to take my mind off my mom. “Yes?” He inquires, squeezing my hand. “How did you know the necklace would be here?” I ask. “Oh, Sully got a tip from someone who mentioned it would likely be present tonight. Granted, we didn’t know it would be on someone, and if it was we’d assumed it would’ve been the bride” he says, softly tugging on my hand to bring me closer to him again. 

I smile as I rest my head on his shoulder as his hands adjust until one is holding mine and the other is around my lower back. I drape my my free arm under his and rest the palm of my hand on his shoulder as we sway back and forth. “Are you feeling any better?” He asks quietly and I can feel his breath against my exposed neck. “A little” I say, smirking as I press my face further into his shoulder. He chuckles lightly before I feel his lips press against my bare shoulder, “good”.

“The newlyweds want to remind everyone to sign the guest book in the back corner of the room” the DJ says, ending the peace I found with Nate. My attention is brought back to my surroundings as I lift my head off his shoulder and loosen my grip on him. “You’re wanting to sign the book?” Nate asks surprised. “No.. I just….” I mutter, trying to compose my thoughts on the task at hand and not on Nate or funny and optimistic he is. 

You’d think a man cynical of marriage to be pessimistic, but he’s not. Nathan tried his best to be optimistic for me when it came to my mom and the mysteries that suddenly seem to surround my life now. He is also endearing and charming, going so far as to assure me that he’d help me find the answers to all those mysteries and questions I now have. 

“Y/N?” Nate asks, stroking my face tenderly. I snap out of my distracting thoughts only to look up at his equally if not more distractingly handsome features. “What seems to be on your mind presently?” he asks, “maybe I can help”. “Do you know who the tip came from?” I ask, glancing across the hotel ballroom we’re in at my only suspect. 

I feel guilt rise in me as I even consider the possibility it could be her, but no one else knew I had this necklace or paid any mind to it if they did. “Ummm… one sec” Nate says, fishing in his jacket pocket for his phone. “Ahh here it is, someone named y/f/n” he says, “and here is their photo” he adds holding up his phone. Upon hearing his confirmation and seeing her face on his screen, the guilt I felt immediately dissipates and turns into anger instead. “I’m going to kill her” I growl, stepping back from Nathan. 

“Y/N, you know her?” He asks and before I can tell him how stupid I think that question is, I remember he didn’t know the necklace would be on anyone, just that it would be in the building. Meaning he had no way of knowing the tip would be someone I’d know. When I don’t respond Nate follows my gaze as I stare across the room in fumes at her betrayal. Nathan didn’t know what the necklace meant to me, and even before then he changed his mind and didn’t actually take it. Y/f/n on the other hand knew full well the value I placed on the necklace and willingly went behind my back. “Oh shit” Nate mumbles, grabbing my hand, “come on, let’s just go”. 

I shake my head, staring over at her even as I feel Nate’s eyes focused on me and his breath against my skin. “I have something I need to do” I say, slipping my hand from his and heading towards y/f/n. “Y/n/n, you know you can’t actually kill her right?” Nate asks, speed walking to keep up with my prowl. “I know” I respond sharply, irritated he’s trying to limit what I’m doing once again. I may not have actually been on my way to kill her, but between the drinks and this, it’s getting frustrating. “I’m just trying to make sure because I care about you and don’t want you to make a rash decision you’ll regret” he says, slipping his hand into mine as he catches up. His words cause me to slow but not stop. I nod in appreciation as we finally close in on y/f/n. 

“Nate, how have you been?” the older man from earlier asks as he and y/f/n take notice of our arrival. My eyes quickly dash over to Nate who just squeezes my hand while glaring at the older man. “Nate? Who is this?” I ask, trying to trust the Nate I feel I’ve come to know, but the intensity of the situation makes it difficult. “Y/N, meet Sully” he says, his eyes never leaving Sully. Nate told me about his business/treasure hunting partner -Sully- during our conversation earlier this evening. “It’s a pleasure Y/N” Sully says, holding his hand out towards me. Nate tugs on my hand but after everything Nate told me, I already know better than to trust Sully. “That’s a beautiful necklace you have there” Sully says. 

Nate tugs backwards on my hand again before dropping it and standing slightly in front of me. Shielding me, and the necklace, from Sully. “Nate, it’s fine, I’m just admiring it” Sully says, looking between the two of us; likely trying to figure out if I know what he and Nate had planned. “Sully, stop. You need to leave her alone. I’m serious. Plus, she already-“ Nate protests, inching over to cover more of me. 

“No Nate, like Sully said, it’s fine” I say, placing my hand on Nate’s back in between his shoulder blades. Nate gives me a sideways glance, confused and silently pleading for me to step back. Ignoring him and feeling all of my emotions from today rise up, I remove my hand from his back and reach behind my neck. “Y/N, what are you-“ Nate questions, reaching for my hand. 

I unclasp my mother’s necklace and ball it up into the palm of my hand, feeling the point of the arrow pierce my skin. “This clearly means more to you guys than it does to me. I couldn’t care less about the damn thing anymore. I’m tired of the secrecy and lies that have been plaguing my life longer than I even could have imagined. So here, do with it as you please. It, “ I say, grabbing Sully’s hand and dropping the necklace into it. “And you,” I add, facing y/f/n “are both dead to me. Enjoy” I say, walking off. 

I take yet another shaky breath this evening as I slip out onto the terrace. Part of me feels missing and empty without the necklace, but part of me feels relieved. It was the last thing I had of my mother, but it also was the thing that caused so much insanity and lies; even from my mother. I decide to settle on the belief it is better off with Sully, and Nate, should he choose to return to their original plan to use it to find the gems. 

I let my eyes lazily wander across the landscape before me. The dark sky being lit up only through the lights of the party and the stars in the sky. It is oddly calming and certainly romantic, I can see why they chose this venue. I cross my arms and lean forward to rest them on the terrace railing. “You really should be careful doing that” I hear Nate’s voice call out. He says it in a whisper, but it is so silent out here that it sounds normal. “And you, should really stop trying to make decisions for me” I respond, leaning against the railing more in retaliation. 

“You’re right. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean anything by it. It’s clear you are capable of taking care of yourself. As I said earlier, I care for you. Which means I don’t want to see you get hurt, even through your own choices” Nate states, standing next to me. I nod as I stare into the twinkled abyss before us. “But, I realize I need to step back a bit and let you make your own decisions” he says, handing me a drink. I glance over at him and thank him as I take notice of the champagne. 

“It was truly the best option they had left” he says as I take the glass from him. I laugh and smile at him before sipping on my drink. “Unless you want my beer” he offers, holding it out to me. “I’m good, thanks” I say, scooting closer to him. “I hope you don’t mind me doing this one last thing” he says as he sets his beer down on the patio table. Before I can turn to face him, he is behind me with his arms over my shoulders as he grabs something from his left hand with his right as they connect above my chest. I can feel his breath warming up my neck as his fingers slowly pull in their respective directions and around to the back of my neck. 

The dark makes it impossible to see, but the weight and feeling is so similar I know in an instant it is my mother’s necklace he is holding. “Nate?” I ask barely audibly as I reach up with my free hand to rub the carvings. “Hmmm?” he asks as his fingers and breath tickle the back of my neck while he fastens the clasp. “What’re you doing?” I ask, shocked to have the necklace back, let alone from Nate. “Returning it to where it belongs” he whispers, placing a soft kiss to the backside of my neck. 

I feel my breath catch in my throat as I turn to face him. I quickly place my drink down next to his. Presumably with tears in my eyes, I smile at him and wrap my arms around his neck. “What happened to finding the gems?” I ask curiously. He gives me a smile, the left of his lips curling upwards more than the right, “some things are more important”. I mentally thank the universe for it being so dark out here as I’m sure my cheeks are neon red. 

I lean forwards and connect my lips with his, causing Nate to smile as he kisses me back. “Thank you. I’m sorry about your adventure though” I admit. He shakes his head and wraps his arms around the small of my back, “this one seems better. Besides, we could always look for it together”. I hum, drawing shapes on his back with my finger, “you know you could have just kept the necklace and then you wouldn’t need me to go with you”. 

“I realize. But you seemed really interested in the history of it, most people zone out when I ramble like that” he laughs, moving one hand up to trace my jawline. “Besides, if I’m stuck looking for Queen Kybele’s treasure with Sully, I’d like you to keep me company” he says, and I swear despite the darkness he is blushing. I smile and pull him in for another kiss. 

Nate uses his arm on my lower back to pull me to him as his tongue dances over my bottom lip. I open my mouth enough to let it enter as I raise my hands to his hair. He moans as I softly tug on the back of his head. I smirk and remove my mouth from his before lowering my lips to his neck. He instinctively holds me even tighter as he backs up into the brick wall behind him. I have just begun to place teasing kisses on his neck when he abruptly pulls back to create distance. 

“Nate?” I ask, my hand trailing down his chest. He takes a deep breath and stares deeply into my eyes, “is this just because of everything that happened tonight?”. I shake my head no. “It doesn’t have anything to do with you mom or y/f/n or how much you’ve had to drink?” He checks, holding my hand. Once again I shake my head no, smiling at how sweet and considerate he’s being. I elect to ignore the fact that I have hardly had anything to drink; in part thanks to him. 

“Okay, so you’re not just in need of a distraction? Because you don’t have to do this,” he says softly. “I’m sure Nate. But if you don’t want me to-“ I begin, but he cuts me off “no! I want you to, I want us to, I just want to make sure there aren’t any issues with why you changed your mind” he responds. “Who said I changed my mind? Last I recall, I said I was trying to decide if I liked you” I tell him, my fingers hooking onto his tie as I form a grip around it. 

“And... I’ve reached my decision” I tell him, using his tie to pull his head forward until our lips meet. He smirks into the kiss and quickly swipes his tongue back over my mouth. I as open my mouth in response, I keep one hand gripped on his tie and the other moves back to his hair again. 

“So, does this mean you’d like to go with us to find Queen Kybele’s treasure” Nate asks as we part for air. “I’ll think about it, how about you show me why I should” I smirk causing the taunting glimmer in his eyes to flicker as he smiles and pulls me against his body. “Okay, but Sully isn’t joining this adventure” he laughs. “Nate!” I yell, smacking his chest playfully. 

He grabs my wrist from his chest and holds it over my head as he presses me against the wall, his lips coming down to meet mine. “You have a deal, why don’t we take this somewhere more private where I can show you” he says, his lips against my jaw. “Every” his lips move to my chin, “single” lips moving to the skin below my ear, “reason” lips on my neck. I let out a low moan as he sucks on the skin of my neck. “You have yourself a deal” I paraphrase him as I take advantage of our position to wrap my legs around his waist. 

#tom holland x reader #Nathan drake #nathan drake x reader #nathan drake fanfiction #tom holland nathan drake #nate drake x reader #uncharted #tom holland uncharted #tom holland uncharted fanfiction #requests #my writing #little lovely anons

[blorbologist]

first of all! congratulations on completing one for sorrow, that's an amazing accomplishment! second of all! I wanted to ask, which chapter or moment in particular was your favorite over all and which one was the hardest to write?

(also...sneak peek on what you have planned for the sequel 👀👀👀🥺)

THANKYOUUU 💕💕💕

Favorite I think... hmmm, I'd say the Ripley fight + aftermath of Percy's first death - I had a lot of fun with the scenery (desert sand made glass at SUNSET!), how fast-paced it was, Vex's wings, and then that horrible twist to how Percy dies and all the emotional turmoil after. Tons of my favorite things together!

Hardest were the argument Vex and Percy had on the ship and that fight between Percy and the party at the end. For the first one, Vex initially did NOT want to admit to him why she had been avoiding him (given what Cass had said), but Percy was smart enough to notice she wasn't being forthright and felt hurt and frustrated as a result. @soul-of-sin (<333) suggested I reframe it to be more about Vex struggling with having someone really important to her being dead (Grog was only dead briefly) for the first time in a while and confronting that loss and fear. Then Vex blurted out the truth a lil later in the conversation anyways, so! It worked out <3

For the final fight... @rightpastnowhere helped me with this one <333 I had so much to juggle

Percy and Scanlan initially kept getting very pissed far too quickly. Trying to steadily ramp up to the point of shitty things being said was hard.

I wanted to minimize how much each twin was speaking - Vax because he's trying not to intervene and just ease the process, Vex because she’s in shock and every time she DID speak I wanted Percy to react immediately...

Which lead to Percy needing to carry a lot of this convo on justifying himself, which he keeps using as a shield that the twins could usually dart around more easily, but Keyleth and Grog struggle to.

Underlining how this was different to what Pike does on the regular was hard for Percy to spit out and thus me vjvjvjvj

It might be hard to tell, because Scanlan, but managing him was also testy because he *knows* what Percy's feeling, because he was considering leaving too. But he wanted to leave both for his daughter and because VM always sidelined his needs, when they mended that issue in this AU and have consistently always dropped everything for Percy and Whitestone. Percy making it about Whitestone and not the young woman that needs him had him very angry (But that doesn't solve the Kaylie/Cass side of things - Scanlan still wants to be there for her and respects Percy for being there for Cass... even if now there's no chance in hell Scanlan can do the same for a bit bc Percy fucked it up so bad).

Keyleth's first reaction was to want to help him, and then she's really floundering and hurt because her best friend is dismissing her responsibilities as unimportant.

Finding a way to lead into the relationship convo at the end from all this was tough too.

It was a lot! But I think I pulled it off well enough, if perhaps lacking the punch Bard's Lament did. Not bad for a Gunslinger’s Lament, though ;p

Now... a sneak peek after all that;

“You there!”

Vex pauses, hand on the doorknob to the Debt’s Respite. It whines when she removes pressure to glance at the source of the voice. 

There’s a humanoid being, of metal and cold hard edges and scuffmarks and a placid sort of face, clutching a book. 

Her first thought is oh, Percy would be besotted by this thing, and she stomps its head beneath her heel to glare at the armored man minding the machine. Gold gold gold, wearing his wealth on his sleeve quite literally. 

Vex hates him on sight.

She spies everyone (bar her brother and the boy) catching up from the corner of her eye. “Oy?” Scanlan says, near her hip, and the glowing buffoon downright beams at the cast now assembled before him. 

“You lot! Hello! Wow! Who are you all?” He gestures them up in down while his mouth keeps moving, eyes keep stomping all over them. “Look at this! Magical items from head to toe. Why, I've never seen anything quite like it.”

Bombastic and rehearsed, the mustachioed stranger describes the events to his construct before directing his attention back to Vox Machina. 

“My friends just call me Tary-” 

“We’re not your friends,” Keyleth points out lightly.

“- and I'm a bit of an adventurer. I've been traveling around this continent for a while, trying to tick off things off of my list, and I've had a few scraps and scrapes. And I'm looking for-”

“No.”

He pauses.

“What do you mean, little elf girl? You are denying the opportunity of a -”

“No.” Vex is in his face now, pointed chin a dagger to his throat. “We have things to do, and whatever fucking errand you’ll have us run isn’t worth it.”

He blusters. “I simply wish to accompany - to join you on the adventure that surely awaits! I - I can assure you, I have coin to spare to pay a retainer fee-”

“Don’t care.” Vex sees Keyleth’s jaw drop. “Vox Machina has a limit of one stupid boy to babysit at a time. Find someone with fucks to give.”

(There WILL be Tary, I love him my golden genius my mustachioed moron, but he doesn't join the party in Ank’Harel! Given he's so Sam a character - Scanlan dips later, when tensions have cooled, and then they run into Tary again. Vex, not being pissed as hell and missing *her* tinkerer, will actually give him a shot, then.)

#critical role #campaign 1 #critical role fanfiction #cr fanfic #vex’ahlia #cr vex #taryon darrington #cr percy #percival de rolo #vex is the raven queen's champion au #ask

[cdyssey]

Beginnings, Ch. 2 (”Other Days”)

Summary: After Robert's official diagnosis, Frankie checks up on Sol. // TW: Discussion of Dementia

AO3 Link

—

Almost every Friday from Frankie’s fake funeral onwards, the Hanson-Bergsteins reestablish Family Game Night. It’d been unceremoniously abolished—like their disastrous wiffle-and-waffle brunches—back in 2008 when Grace and Frankie got into a heated argument about the ethics of capitalism in Monopoly, but times have changed and so have the people.

They’ve grown.

They’ve aged.

They’re aging even still.

(Monopoly is still off-limits, though. It’s probably for the best.)

On the third game night they have a little over a month after her fake funeral, Frankie arrives early at Sol and Robert’s house because she promised that she’d make Sol’s favorite green bean casserole, and it’d be easier cook it in their oven rather than drag it from the beach house piping hot…

… but this is just the pretense, really. 

The readymade excuse.

She’s early because she wants to check in on her ex-husband who just recently learned that his current husband is suffering from dementia. Or, maybe, from what she’s heard—from Grace’s kids, from Grace herself—he hasn’t just learned the fact; he’s merely had it confirmed by a doctor. 

And where has Frankie been for all of this?

How has she been so goddamn absent?

She thinks she knows the answer to this, though.

She’s agonized over it for weeks now.

As she pulls into their driveway behind Robert’s car that he’s no longer allowed to drive, Frankie’s stomach revolts with a personal guilt that nearly ruins her. Her fingers tighten where they grip the wheel, her knuckles white and aching with arthritic stiffness. She’s been so selfish lately, so wrapped up in the possibility of her own death that she’s either hurt the people that she loves or neglected them, which is precisely the same thing.

Sol wasn’t himself on the day when they met Jessica’s parents—and neither was she for that matter—but even before the Bergsteins all collectively fucked up lunch for Coyote, Sol had been quiet and on edge, all of his long limbs restless with an anxiety that she had so effortlessly overlooked.

She sees the memory of him now, standing on the deck before Coyote and Jessica arrived, his elbows on the balcony railing as he stared outwards into the sea with a blank stare. He had played a little with his wedding ring, which was still shiny with its relative newness... 

He and Robert may have stolen twenty years together, sure.

But they never got to own as many years as they deserved, to live them in the sunlight and enjoy them well.

After dying and coming back, Frankie understands Sol a little more now, and she thought she’d known the man better than almost anyone.

She intimately knows what it’s like to wish for more time with a loved one, to regret all the wasted days that were not spent together.

Because every hour apart from Grace hurts these days.

Just a little mostly and sometimes a fucking lot.

But today isn’t about me, she thinks to herself, shaking her head reprovingly. Or Grace. Today’s about taking care of Sol.

He’s her family, and she loves him.

When he needs her, she will always be there.

With that inwards affirmation, Frankie pries herself out of her car, balances her box of ingredients safely in her arms, and slowly makes her way to the front door, which opens for her even before she’s conquered the first porch step. Sol awaits her with spread arms and a smile that creases his dark brown eyes, while Carl heels politely next to his sandals.

“How gallant of you and your noble hound,” she curtsies playfully at both Sol and his appropriately gentlemanly dog. 

Sol puffs his beach-shirt wearing chest out proudly, standing to full height, which nearly touches the top of the doorframe.

“Chivalry isn’t dead, my dear Frankie.” The delivery is very theatrical and pretentious; she can see that Robert’s rubbing off on him quite nicely.

“Yeah, yeah,” she laughs pleasantly, “now please grab this shit before my arms fall off, good sir.”

And he immediately complies, relieving the cardboard box from her as she closes the door behind them.

Whatever Frankie briefly feels of lightheartedness, though, suddenly dissipates as her gaze sweeps the living room when they walk through it to get to the kitchen. Always an artist, she has a keen sense of details—especially when it comes to the way something looks—and it’s hard not to notice the multicolored sticky notes. 

They are strewn throughout the house, papering the furniture and the appliances at strategic intervals. Whoever left them tried to be discrete, placing them beneath coasters and on the sides of tables, partially obscuring them with magnets on the fridge, but the sheer volume of them grabs her attention anyway. The bright colors magnetize her eyes with a horrible attraction. Sol sets her box down on the counter, jabbering blithely away about anything and everything—Robert going out to lunch with Peter and his new boyfriend, their beautifully blooming ferns on the patio, Monica Lopez’s latest campaign speech. Frankie tries hard not to look at the pink note next to the oven and eventually fails. It’s been scrawled upon in a neat, utilitarian handwriting that she knows isn’t Sol’s.

Don’t forget to turn off the oven.

She doesn’t school her emotions very well, never has, and cannot appropriately disguise the utter horror on her face. Sol catches it just as immediately—stopping mid-rambling sentence about how they should host one of their infamous fondue and fundraising parties—and inhales sharply. 

His entire frame, in all of its tallness, simply hitches.

Eventually, it just breaks.

“I’m sorry, Sol,” she murmurs, placing a hand on his upper arm as he braces his knobbly hands on the edge of the marbled counter. His veins stand out beneath his strained knuckles, livid and blue. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t…”

She hesitates.

She didn’t know?

Hasn’t bothered to ask?

She’s been so out of touch lately, but the reality is that one of the dearest people to her in the world has been hurting so profoundly in all the time that she’s been distant.

Distracted.

Gone.

“I didn’t know you were here yet,” she settles upon, and the words feel clumsy and inadequate on her tongue.

A blue note on the fridge reads, Call these numbers in case of emergencies.

“Most days we’re not,” Sol shakes his head vehemently, his dark brow furrowed. He swipes at his brimming eyes with the back of his hand. “Robert’s just… he’s being conscientious and preparing for when we really are there.”

“And other days?” Frankie almost hates herself for asking it, for prying when she shouldn’t—(damn her emotionally curious nature)—but her ex-husband only peers at her kindly, with a certain gratitude in his eyes. She suddenly remembers, in the way someone might recall the phantom pains of long ago grief, that their relationship used to fundamentally be rooted in honesty.

They told each other everything.

Except for the one thing that Sol couldn’t.

For twenty years.

“Other days,” he replies with a hollow, watery smile, “he accidentally orders Chinese after forgetting that he’d ordered Mexican takeout half-an-hour before. Or he forgets that the bottom-left burner on the stove sparks dangerously if you flick it on too fast. Or he mixes up Mallory’s kids names when they come over for brunch.”

A yellow note on the counter succinctly reminds: Neurologist appt. @ 10. October 2nd.

A green note next to the blender explains where their protein mix is in the pantry.

An orange note on a bulletin board calendarizes the weekly dinners Sol and Robert have with the various Hanson and Bergstein kids.

“With his new medicine, we’re not having as many other days,” he continues, “which is a good thing, you know, but...”

He trails off, and Frankie can see that his hands are shaking, that gripping the counter is his only countermeasure against total dissolution.

“But those other days add up,” she finishes quietly, moving her hand downwards so that it’s covering one of his own.

“Mhm,” he can barely croak. “I wake up every morning dreading that it’s going to be an other kind of day.”

Frankie guesses, from the sticky notes, from the plethora of them, that this is Robert’s deepest fear too.

“I’m sorry,” she repeats again, and it’s radically different this time. It’s a pleading apology and not a condolence. “I should have been here for you and Robert. I’ve been stuck up my own ass lately, and you’ve been—“

Before she can complete the thought, though, Sol renegotiates their bodies so that they’re facing each other, and he’s got his big, warm hands on her shoulders, and there are tears leaking down the gnarled crevices of his face, carving a path around his sharp nose.

“You’ve been occupied, too, Frankie,” he murmurs generously, and she knows by the way that he glances down at her hands that he’s thinking about the fact that she can’t paint anymore.

He knows how much that hurts her.

He bought her the first watercolor paints she had ever owned when she was twenty-three. Told her that he saved nickels from his job delivering newspapers to afford them.

Because he knew how much she loved art and he thought she was really good at it.

“I get it," he says and absolutely does.

But Frankie fiercely shakes her head, unwilling to let herself escape responsibility for her shit so easily. Not this time. Not anymore. If nearly dying has taught her anything, it’s that life is too goddamn short not to own the things she has done—the good, the bad, and everything in-between. And if that is the only lesson she carries with her in these miraculous years she has left, then she will embody it with every action and every word.

She will never let another day go by without showing her loved ones that she cares.

And apologizing profusely when she gets it wrong.

(She sometimes gets it wrong.)

“I’ve been a bad friend,” she says softly, “and that’s on me, Sol.”

“Frankie—“ He tries helplessly, but she shushes him by leaning into him again, wrapping her arms around his gangling torso. She has to stand up on her tiptoes to place her chin on top of his shoulder.

It’s nice and warm in the tangle of their limbs, but his embrace is not home like it used to be, even though he places his chin on her graying head like he used to do.

Home is the beach house nowadays.

And it is Grace’s bony hand intertwined with her own.

And it is her roommate’s candid laugh, hoarse and always a little incredulous (like she can never fully believe that she’s actually laughing).

And it is her tender smile, the one she only seems to reserve for Frankie.

Home is Grace Hanson: completely, irrefutably, and enduringly.

“But I’m here now,” she cuts across him gently. “Whatever you and Robert need, I’m here. Both of us—Grace and I—are.”

Sol’s voice cracks as he says, “Thank you.”

He curls his fingers into the fabric of her dress.

“Thank you, Frankie,” he repeats, the gratitude muffled in her hair.

Over Sol’s shoulder, she sees yet another sticky note on the counter written in Robert’s precise hand.

Don’t let me forget that I love you, dear.

Beneath which, Sol had promised in his nearly illegible lettering, Never, my love.

And Frankie makes a promise to Sol herself.

"Always."

#frankie bergstein #sol bergstein #grace and frankie #grace and frankie spoilers #gaf spoilers #s: grace and frankie #reginianwrites #i love sol and frankie's friendship #this is me wishing we'd gotten oooone more solo convo with them

[secretmajimasimp]

When I say I don't like dressing femininely often I dont mean it cause I feel insecure about seeing myself in it. I plain don't feel like a girl in those moments. I wanna dress like a dude at times without it becoming some huge thing. But I can't. It'll always turn into a tsunami of questions that I frankly don't want. I just wanna exist in peace. And I don't get how to explain that to someone that changed their entire style for men

#I'm sorry for the rant im just so exhausted with feeling this way #i think one of one of my most memorable moments with her was this convo we were having about heels #i made a throwaway comment about sticking to flats if i cant stay in my normal shoes #and i thought nothing of it #but then she fought me on it #her very first argument was What if your man wants you to wear heels? #i was just so confused #why would i change something so stupid and small for someone? #if they're really bothered by the way i dress do they really like me for me? #ever since then i've never really felt comfortable expressing myself though clothes around her #she always tries to make me dress more girly and i just...dont want to be that girl all the time

[scarlettriot]

Along for the Ride PT 1

Pairing: KirishimaxF!Reader

Summary: A drunken mistake had you marking the little Plus One box to your snobby cousin's wedding. Kirishima told you not to worry, if you couldn't find a date, he'd go with you. When the wedding gets moved up, there's absolutely no time to find a date and you're now about to be traveling to America with Kirishima on a private jet no less, dreading having him meet your rude and impossibly arrogant family.

Contains: Kirishima and Reader both come from very well-off families. Plus-Sized Reader. Fluff. Hurt/Comfort.

Warnings: Kinda smutty for a minute. Minors DNI. Drunken Sex. TW: Manipulative Family Relationships. TW: Body Image Issues

A/N: This story has been rolling around in my head for a while now. I might rewrite this and repost. Or I might just post the whole thing soon. I dunno yet. It does get smuttier.

Word Count: 4,974

"What's up with Y/N?"

Eijiro stepped out of the locker room with a towel slung over his shoulder and made his way into the kitchenette where Mina was chugging a bottle of water before getting back to her patrol. His eyes were trained on their mutual friend out on the patio, pacing.

You had your phone pressed to your ear, the high neck of your hero costume unzipped to your collarbone and he noticed your gloves discarded on a chair.

"No clue." Mina shrugged. "She got back from patrol and she noticed a bunch of missed calls from her mom. She's been out there, flailing on the phone for the last fifteen minutes now."

The three of you had met in your second year at UA when you transferred into their class and were quickly accepted by their little squad of friends. You were a bit quiet at first but quickly found comfort in the group. Eijiro had grown especially close to you when you both interned with Fat Gum.

Late nights traveling on the train back to school, a few close calls while helping patrol, and days spent playing cards while you both healed up in the hospital left plenty of time for Eijiro to get to know you better than most. It was how he knew you had a pretty bad relationship with your family, why you hated returning home for the holidays almost as much as you hated any and all forms of tomatoes.

He considered going out there just to see if there was anything he could do but before he had the chance, you were sliding the glass door open. "Oh, good, you're back." He offered you a bottle of water for your throat that he assumed was sore after that argument. "I- um- can I borrow you for a second? Alone?"

Mina snorted a laugh. "If you guys wanna bang it out on the counter you can just say so. I gotta go to work anyways."

Eijiro threw the towel at her as she left the room leaving you two alone. "What's goin' on?"

You hoisted yourself up on the countertop while he leaned against the fridge. "You remember my cousin's wedding that's happening this winter?"

He nodded. He vividly remembered the both of you getting waste a few weeks ago when you were filling out the RSVP and accidentally marking 'plus one'. Then you ran around trying to find White Out but he'd told you if you didn't find a date or have a significant other by the time of the wedding, he'd just go with you.

You argued that your family was bat shit crazy, had more money than they could spend in their lifetime and because of that, they were among some of the rudest people you knew, and you didn't want Eijiro or anyone else around that.

The thing was, Eijiro already knew that and was still okay with going. He came from money too. A lot of it. His family was just more welcoming than yours, the wealth never really going to their heads. But, he reminded you that he'd ran into enough people like those in your family that he knew how to handle them. You finally agreed to let him accompany you, leaving the plus one box checked but the name line blank.

"Well, my cousin just found out that surprise, she's pregnant! And, obviously, she can't have a wedding while seven months along so they've decided to move the wedding up to this weekend."

He nearly choked on his own spit. "This weekend? As in four days from now?"

"Yup! Saturday at 4 in the evening. Oh! No one's supposed to know she's pregnant either. So, I'm just supposed to compliment her on how flattering her dress looks, how thin she is," Your hands strangled the water bottle between them, "And I have to find something flattering to my figure because my mother has seen me in my hero outfit and she's so glad I wear a mask because if anyone knew her daughter ran around looking like I do, well, it'd ruin her!"

You massaged your temples circling back to the actual point, "Anyways, I just wanted to bitch for a sec and let you know you're off the hook since four days is just a little short notice and I told her my plus one wouldn't be able to get the time off that fast."

He pushed off the fridge. "Well, wait, hang on! I'm not letting you go in alone to deal with them! Hell no! You need backup!" You looked almost taken aback by his abruptness, "Yeah. I can work this out. Is the wedding at the same place it was supposed to be or has it moved?"

"No, it's still that fancy lodge in California. I was planning on leaving Friday morning and then coming back either Sunday night or Monday morning since my mother insists I go to their brunch the following day. But, Eijiro, I already have this weekend off..."

"Denki owes me a favor or twelve. He's supposed to be off this weekend too, I'll just see if he can cover me."

"And if he can't?"

"Then..." He pressed the back of his hand to his forehead, "Y/N, am I feeling warm to you? I think I might be starting a fever!"

You folded your arms, shaking your head, "Thought you said lying isn't manly."

"Technically, correct. But, what would be real unmanly is for me to let you deal with your family's bullshit all alone." You watched him closely, "To be honest, I'm sure we could just explain you had a family thing come up and asked me to come along for moral support. I don't really think anyone would think twice about it. Hell, you took a few days off to console me when my turtle died suddenly!"

"Eiji, you refused to eat."

"And you brought me my favorite dumplings! Same thing!"

You might have shaken your head at him but your arms opened wide. The telltale sign you wanted affection. He walked forward, consuming you in a tight hug. Your arms latched around his neck, face buried in the hollow of his throat. "You're the best."

"I just do what I can."

>>><<<

You should have canceled. Instead of Eijiro faking sick to get out of work, you should have faked it with your mother so you didn't have to go in the first place. You crumpled to the floor of your bedroom in pure frustration amidst the twenty or so outfits and dozen pairs of shoes you'd thrown out of your closet trying to find something that your mother would deem appropriate.

It wasn't your fault you had a fuller figure. You worked out, ate right, not to mention your job kept you very active, and yet your, hips, ass, and breasts were by no means subtle.

Your mother had also insisted on the dress being floor-length and modern, "Do try not wearing all black. It's a wedding, not a funeral. And, get your hair looking natural, please." And, just like that, 70% of your wardrobe was out the window!

"It's open!" You called from the floor when the doorbell rang.

"You really should lock this." Mina tutted, walking through the door with a bag full of takeout.

"I do. At night."

"Honey, it's 9 PM."

"Night like bedtime."

Mina just rolled her eyes and walked into your tiny kitchen. "I see the dress hunt is going well."

"I actually figured it out!" You got off the floor, careful not to step on a heel as you made your way to the pink haired woman, "I'm just gonna go in my birthday suit. I figured, my mother made my body technically therefore she can't disapprove of it. Because, you know, she's never done anything wrong in her life!"

Your best friend snorted out a laugh and passed you the take-out container stuffed full of stir fry. "you're a wonderful person, you know that?" You loved the fact Mina didn't even have to ask what you wanted.

"If you'd just move closer to work then you could pick it up yourself and I wouldn't have to bring it to you."

"Too expensive." You declared after a mouthful. "You pay almost twice as much as I do per month and I just don't see the point. I have damn near the same amount of space you do for half the cost!"

You adored your small one-bedroom apartment. It was perfect. Right above a bakery that you visited each morning after your run and a little balcony that provided you with the most stunning view of the sunset.

"You and Kiri, I swear." Mina just shook her head and curled up with her food on the loveseat. "I thought he'd end up with the biggest house out of us all the moment we started making that real Pro money. You've seen his parent's house. It's massive! You could get lost in that place!"

Eijiro's place was barely bigger than your own. He lived in the same condo he had since you'd graduated UA, claiming it was perfect for him in each and every way. But, you knew that he donated a sizable amount of his paycheck every month to charities, the same as you. With savings to spare, neither of you saw the point in hoarding it and therefore the small condo was all he could afford with what he actually kept.

"Just don't understand how a guy that big can live in such a tiny little space. At least with you, it's you know, physically feasible."

Eijiro's bedroom was barely large enough to fit the king-sized bed the man needed to sleep comfortably and even then, his feet were dangerously close to dangling off the bed. And, as if the man's ears were burning, your cell phone went off under a pile of discarded shoes.

Shark-E: Figured out your dress situation? If not, I'm just gonna pack like ten different ties and hope for the best.

You: Yeah! I totally did! I'm just gonna wear this birthday suit I got and call it a night.

You chuckled at your own joke all over again. Watching the grey ellipses appear and then vanish, appear and vanish again. After a third time, you took pity on the man.

You: Joking, Ei. I still don't have it figured out but Mina's over so, hopefully, she can help.

Shark-E: Gonna give me a damn heart attack! Seriously, I wouldn't put it past you just to see the look on your mom's face. Tell Mina hi and good luck to you. I vote the dress from the Hero Gala two years ago.

You: Hi from Mina. Can't. Too much boobs.

Shark-E: You take that back right now! There is NEVER such a thing as too much boobs!

You chuckled to yourself, putting your phone down, and then finished off the last of your delicious dinner, thinking about the dress Eijiro mentioned.

You wondered if maybe there was a way you could make the thing work but it was so very low cut. So much tape had been used to make sure no slips happened but damn was it worth it! The beaded bodice with the sparkling long sleeves, gods, how you loved that dress.

"I'm inclined to agree with our shark boy. You're busty, who gives a damn. You looked hot as hell in that dress."

"My mother, that's who. As much as I'd like to not give a flying fuck what she thinks, for some dumb reason, I do. On top of her telling me that the amount of cleavage I would show would be vastly inappropriate for a wedding, she'd also say the way it hugs my hips makes them look too fat."

Mina rolled her eyes. "She's such a piece of work." Pushing herself up, she held her arms out to you, wiggling little pink fingers for you to take. "Come on then. Let's get you sorted."

"What about that one you wore to the charity art thingy with Kyoka last winter? The one with the silver top."

"Silver is too close to white." You called out from within your closet.

"What! Not true!"

"You know that. I know that. Every person with two brain cells knows that, which is why most of my family does not know that."

"Fine..." She whined and started sifting through the opposite end of your closet. "Oh, what about this?" Mina waved about the blue and green plaid skirt that made up your uniform from your middle school days when you lived in America. "Please try this on. I'm begging!"

You were pretty sure it wouldn't even go over your thighs anymore.

"It's got a better chance of fitting you!"

Mina threw it at you anyway. Slipping off the sweats you wore, somehow, someway, you were able to tug it on AND get it zipped, barely. It no longer covered your ass but you still enjoyed the way it swished around when you wiggled your hips.

"You could be fulfilling so many people's fantasies right now." Mina mused.

You pulled the skirt off and sweats back on, throwing the former back at her. "Yeah, you can take it and go fulfill Hanta's fantasies if you like. Not like I've got anyone to impress." You pulled down a dress you bought on sale a year ago but Mina was quick to dismiss it.

Too puffy, she said and then held up one that was from Momo. "I needed to get it shortened and I don't have time for that now."

"Wait..." She hummed and dropped the Momo dress. "I know what it should be!"

Mina hurried through the closet, grumbling about not finding it. "Just tell me which dress and I can tell you where it's at."

"It's that one you got for grad night and then you got sick and couldn't go!"

"Mina, Mina I can't wear that! That's actual vintage, not like, made-to-look-vintage!"

"But it's so elegant and has that off-the-shoulder sleeve thing. The wedding is at a damn sky lodge! It'll look so pretty in the snow! Ah! Found it!"

She yanked up the long, elegant gown from the garment bag you'd never removed it from. There wasn't a single wrinkle in the burgundy fabric. It looked just as beautiful as the day you found it in that second-hand store, on a mannequin with gaudy stage jewels that you just had to buy so the look was complete.

You ran the back of your hand over the velvety fabric, soft to the touch. "It'll be too tight now. If I was the same size I was at graduation-"

"Bullshit!" Mina cut you off with a dismissive hand, "You've got hips now. We aren't 18 anymore! It's not like it's some clubbing dress. And I bet no one would say a damn thing about your figure if they knew how easily you could crush them with those thighs!"

A smirk tugged at the corner of your lips. Without quirks, you gave every single one of your classmates a run for their money in hand to hand. Most were fairly easy to beat. You could usually take down Eijiro in about five or six minutes and Katsuki in half the time. Funny enough, it was Ochaco that gave you the hardest time.

"I'll consider it. But help me find something else just in case."

>>><<<

It was another two hours before you finally agreed on an a-line, empire waist green and gold number that had been the bridesmaid's dresses for Tetsutetsu's wedding. Mina thought they were a crime the first time they had to wear them, she had no idea what you were thinking.

That's why the moment you were preoccupied with trying to find yet another dress for the Sunday brunch, Mina pulled out her phone.

You: DO NOT, under any circumstances, allow Y/N to wear the green dress. She's bringing two because she can't decide. Red is the winner!

Jaws: Aw, come on. If she likes it, let her wear whatever she's comfortable in. She'll be under enough stress already.

You: Kirishima, it's the dress from Tetsu's wedding. The one that looks sparkly baby food.

It took him a second to respond.

Jaws: Alright. Understood. I thought you guys looked good but damn, she hated that dress.

You: We all did.

Mina looked at the message chain again and couldn't help but asked, "Are we just gonna ignore the fact that you and Eiji are flying all the way to America, last minute, to attend a wedding together, even though you're not together?"

"We've flown to the states before."

"For work!" She sat up eagerly. "This is different, Y/N! This is a date and not just a, like, casual date but a wedding date!"

You poked your head out of the closet. "No, it isn't. This is a friend helping another friend who stupidly mismarked an RSVP." You corrected very plainly but Mina wasn't one to give up so easily.

She whined, dragging out your name, "You guys have been doing this thing for ages. Why do you have to be so stubborn about it all!"

"What's that supposed to mean!"

Mina started ticking off points on her fingers. "He was the first person you opened up to at UA. You saved his life when he was busy saving Katsuki's life second year. You spent all that time interning together, became sidekicks together. Went to America together for three whole months, ALONE, and you honestly expect me to think there's nothing between the two of you!"

The truth of it all was simple really; 17 year old you had a massive crush on Eijiro Kirishima. He was sweet, always listening to you, providing comfort when you needed it, and always encouraging you to push your limits. He was bright and honest, a little slow in the head from time to time but that made him all the more endearing.

He was also head over heels in love with Katsuki Bakugo.

It was why you never made a move. Never spoke a word of the feelings you harbored. You didn't dare to cross that line with him because you couldn't ever hold a candle to the explosive man.

In the three years Eijiro and Katsuki spent together, your brain finally started registering Eijiro as just a friend, nothing more, and certainly nothing less. You thought your heart had followed suit but it was becoming more and more apparent that wasn't the case. Because the night he showed up at your door, tears in his ruby eyes, every lock you put on your heart broke open.

The same way you couldn't hold a candle to Katsuki, Eijiro couldn't hold one to Izuku. You knew exactly what he was feeling even if you never intended to tell him. Too overcome with fear. If Katsuki came back... that'd be it. Eijiro would go back and you wouldn't even blame him!

Still, the redhead consumed a decent chunk of your heart though, you couldn't deny that after the three months you spent together in America, gathering intel on a smuggling ring, living in the same apartment. The groggy, 'good mornings' when his voice was still scratchy with sleep, hair falling in his eyes. The late nights bandaging wounds and killing cheap bottles of wine while watching terrible American reality shows.

It was those bottles of wine that did you in on your second to last night in America. Supplying you with courage and draining your sense of reason, allowing you to crawl onto his lap, into his arms. You could still remember the pressure of his lips on yours, those sharp teeth gently dragging along your lower lip.

Scared hands tracing the curve of your ass before taking handfuls to squeeze. The laugh that came from you was unlike anything you heard before, something so genuine that you couldn't reproduce.

How it felt when he lifted you up and took you to his bed, laying you down taking his time removing your clothes, and watching with awe as you pulled away his own. The way he looked over top of you, his hair a curtain of red around you just before you closed your eyes, gasping while he filled you.

You also remembered the guilt that crept into your head during the wee hours of the morning, the doubt that was louder than the snores coming from behind you.

It made you slip from under his massive arm, gather up your clothes from his floor, you tucked the blanket around him, and pressed a kiss to his temple before padding out of the room.

You told yourself you'd talk to him about it if he brought it up, but he never did. Not the next morning, or night, not on the plane ride back home, nor anytime since. It was a memory you'd hold close to your heart, one you wouldn't let slip away or share.

"There's nothing there, Mina. We're just good friends is all." You lied with a smile on your face, something that had become surprisingly easy to do.

If only you knew that Mina saw right through it. That Mina already knew the truth of it all.

>>><<<

It was nearly one in the morning when your phone rang. The goofy picture of Eijiro with face half painted at a festival a few years back never failed to make you grin.

"It's a little late." You answered by way of greeting.

"Don't pretend like you were anywhere close to sleeping, you little night owl."

Chuckling at the nickname that had followed you since high school, "What's up, Eiji?"

"I was going over flights. You said in the office that you wanted to leave on Friday?"

"Yeah. I have patrol tomorrow and I didn't find any flights after 6 PM so, Friday is the earliest."

He was quiet on the other line for a moment. "Yeah, you don't have patrol tomorrow, or work at all for that matter."

You sat up a bit straighter in bed. "Um, yes I do."

"No, you don't. I called Mina, asked her if you'd mind taking that shift for you and, since she knows what's happening, she agreed the extra day for travel would do you some good. So, she's covering you tomorrow then you're off work until next Wednesday. As for me, thanks to all that overtime I put in when Denki, Kyoka, and Hitoshi got married, the three of them are splitting up my days so I have until Wednesday too."

Eijiro sounded impossibly proud on the other line, you could almost see the smirk on his face. "You've got this all planned out, don't you?"

"And a bag nearly packed. Just need you to tell me what ties to bring."

"Gold, burgundy, and black."

"Thought your mom said no black for you?"

"She said no black for the wedding. She said nothing about black at the brunch!"

You couldn't wait to put on the tea-length dress that had been a favorite for years. Satin with a lacy top and, best of all, pockets.

He let out a rumbling laugh that fell off into comfortable silence as you laid back in your bed, lights still on, the room still a mess. You tapped the speaker icon and laid the phone on the pillow right beside your head, listing to the various sounds of Eijiro moving around.

A door creaking open, a hanger clattering against another, and a zipper. "And just like that, I'm all set."

"Don't forget your passport or hero license."

"I have one in my wallet and the other in my backpack."

You swiped up on your iPad, off Netflix, and going to google, lazily searching through flights. "So, did you find any good flights since you've clearly been looking?"

Another chuckle, "Eijiro, why are you laughing?" More stifled giggles had you sitting up in bed again. "Just tell me a site you were on. They're just flights, what's so funny?"

"There isn't a site."

"You said you were checking flights."

"And I was... on my family's jet."

"Eiji! No! No, no, no! That is supposed to be for their business or hero things! My stupid cousin's wedding is neither of those things!"

"Relax, Y/N. My family has multiple and they don't have any business trips planned right now anyways. I already cleared it with my mom. Seriously, I just mention your name and she's likely to let me have it for a whole year at least. Plus Todoroki's is back up in working order so the agency is covered too."

Damn, why'd he have to be so good at planning from time to time! You'd completely forgotten about the second jet his family had. Always opting for the larger one since the few missions they needed it for required them to bring fifty or so heroes along.

"Besides, if we fly private, we can land at an airstrip closer to the venue and won't need to drive four hours on top of a ten-hour flight."

"Alright, okay, thank you but, let me take care of the rental car, please. It's the least you can let me do."

"Deal. I just have one more question for ya."

"What's that?"

"Wanna leave tonight?"

You nearly dropped your damn iPad in shock. "Eijiro! What the fuck has gotten into you! It's the middle of the night!"

"I'm excited!" He boomed, "I haven't had a vacation in months!"

"I hate to break this to you, buddy, but this isn't going to be a vacation. You really shouldn't get your hopes up. This isn't going to be a good time with laughs and fun memories... my family, they just, they aren't those kinds of people."

"But we are." He stated matter-of-factly. "If they want to have sticks up their asses then let them! We'll have a good time on our own, laugh and make fun memories! So, what do you say, Y/N? I can be at your place in fifteen. I just gotta put shoes on and grab my keys..."

"Wait, hang on. Are you forgetting that we need someone to, oh, I dunno, FLY THE PLANE! Actually, we need two someone's, can't forget about a co-pilot!"

He hummed happily and you rubbed your temples. "You, you have a pilot and a co, don't you, Eiji?"

"Mhm! There is a company we use. Two can be at the hanger in an hour and every hour after that. I just have to make the call and get the flight plan approved which will be done before I even get to your house."

There was literally no reason to say no. You had mostly everything packed, nothing you needed to get from the store, all you had to do was put on pants and pack up your hygiene bag and you were ready too. Maybe getting there quicker and getting the whole thing over with would be better than staying home dwelling on everything.

"Better put your shoes on."

The glee in his voice, that was enough to make this whole thing worth it, "I'll see you soon."

>>><<<

Eijiro reached into the backseat and plopped a bag down on your lap the very moment you were buckled in. "Had to make a pit stop." He explained.

"It's after two in the morning, where'd you have to..."

"Just open the bag and don't complain."

You found it filled to the brim with all your favorite snacks.

"I'm sure the plane will have a bunch of snacks we can raid but I know for a fact they don't have these." He held up a pack of cookies and creme flavored pocky that had been his favorite for as long as you'd known him, quickly followed by your favorite flavor too. You also found a massive bag of gummy worms and jolly ranchers.

"So, what you're telling me is our teeth are going to rot by the time we land? Not that I'm complaining."

You ripped open the bag of ranchers knowing that was what he'd go for first and sure enough his hand dove inside just as he pulled away from the curb. You could hear his dangerously sharp teeth biting through the rock candy like it was nothing while you still rolled one around your mouth.

Eijiro asked you about the resort you'd be going to, wondering if you'd been there before or what other stuff you guys could do when you weren't dealing with your family. "I figured we could fly back Monday night or Tuesday morning, you know, just play it by ear in case there was anything else we wanted to do."

More than anything, you wished you could just leech a little bit of that excitement from him. The glimpses of his smile you caught as you drove under the street lights made your heart ache.

"What?" He asked with that wide smile of his. You'd been caught staring, red-handed.

"I, uh, I just don't know what to tell you."

You could see the subtle change of his grin, watch as it softened and his hand came to rest on your thigh. "Hey, it's gonna be fine! And if we run into them while out doing stuff, you can just avoid them or hide behind me!" At least hiding behind Eijiro is an easy thing to do, damn mountain of a man.

His thumb slowly brushed back and forth. "'S gonna be okay. I'll beat 'em up if they're assholes!"

You snickered at his Katsuki impression and let the drone of the radio fill the air around you both. Enjoying the silence the rest of the way to the hanger with Eijiro's hand atop your leg.

#mha #bnha #kirishima x reader #kirishima x y/n #eijiro kirishima #kirishima smut #mha x reader #mha x y/n

[taechaos]

No More

from Textbook Love drabble series

pairing: bully!Jungkook x nerdy!fem!Reader

genre: dark romance, college au

synopsis: Perhaps love isn’t all you need to be with Jungkook. Maybe it's a sign you and him weren't meant to be.

warnings: fluff, daddy kink, public sex, degredation, mild angst

word count: 6.7k

a/n: dedicated to a good old gemini, known as pretzel anon. happy birthday! this was shit! 💞 can someone let me know if i made a stupid mistake i was really high while writing this lol

If every couple goes at their own pace, how does one know if the relationship is rushed or a slow burn? What is considered a date, and how many do you have to go on to stop calling it a date? Maybe there’s a book called Dating for Dummies.

Jungkook has taken you out once: a fast food meal on the curb across your campus. Romance is subjective, so you thought it to be very romantic when he fed you a french fry under the streetlights while you were too stuffed to finish your food. “I paid for it,” he’d said, “so you have to eat it all.”

“I’ll eat anything from your hand,” you’d replied bashfully. He got a bit awkward after that, and you regretted saying it until he began feeding you and even holding your drink to your mouth. It was a successful first date, but you wanted it to last longer; feel your heartbeat out of rhythm with every smile he threw at you until the sun came up. Unfortunately for you, he walked you to your dorm a little after dinner.

Luckily for you, you know that wasn’t your first and last date. You’re going to ask him out for the second one because it’s a beautiful day outside and you’ve studied all morning for your finals to clear up your schedule for Jungkook. A walk in the park sounds nice, then a picnic, maybe he’ll even hold your hand! Is it too soon for another date though? It’s only been less than a day… 

You’re wearing your favorite outfit for the occasion: a pale blue floral dress that has a rectangular collar on the chest—without cleavage, God forbid—and sandal heels to match. You even styled your hair, and hopefully dressing to impress works; you don’t want him to say no. The current issue is finding Jungkook, and you don’t want to be that person, but you’re avoiding calling him in case you bust him with another girl by searching instead. It makes you guilty for having trust issues, but infidelity has its impacts.

Regardless of your internal concerns, you’re happily humming as you skip on the sidewalk, checking every corner for a certain someone. So far no such luck, and if he isn’t in his dorm, and if he doesn’t go off campus on Sundays, where could he be? In someone else’s dorm…?

“Stop,” you scold yourself with a roll of your eyes and continue your hunt. Next location: the back of the building. The front is cleared out, so is the dorm; what’s happening in the most secretive area? “God,” you sigh. Is this how your thinking process has always been? You hope it is.

The beat in your steps has gone missing when you’re rounding the exterior of the building because of your reluctance. You’re contemplating calling him until you see the back of a man with a girl in front of him by the benches, presumably kissing from the smacking noises. You clench your phone in your dress pocket as you watch them, hesitant to find out who the guy is.

“Jun–” Your voice goes quiet when you see the tattoo of a dragon on his shoulder, peeking out from his black loose tank top. It’s not Jungkook’s tattoo. You bite your lip and ignore the relief in your tight muscles; he’s dating you now, that’s what he said. It’s different, so there’s no point in worrying about his loyalty. 

You shake your hands off and walk faster to the taboo spot. There’s no point in worrying, there isn’t, not when he told you he would make it up to you. There’s no reason for your heart to race from expecting the worst when you make the final turn.

A shaky breath leaves you and a small smile follows when you see him smoking with his friends by the back exit. There are four people with him, Taehyung included, who is sharing a cigarette with him. He notices you first because he’s facing you whereas Jungkook is facing the clear forest across. He waves you over with a wide grin, his eyes lighting up.

“I see a pretty girl at 9 o’clock,” Taehyung says and Jungkook turns his head, the rest following his lead. You take tiny strides while approaching them and bite down on a shy smile.

“Hi,” you greet in a small voice. Your eyes immediately lock with Jungkook’s, who looks baffled.

“Hey yourself,” Taehyung greets back. “Care to share?” He holds a burning cigarette out to you with a slight bow, as if offering you a rose.

“She doesn’t smoke,” Jungkook answers for you without looking away. Is he displeased?

“Have you ever tried it?” he persists before inhaling the stick and blowing it in your face. You cough and hold a fist to your mouth, shaking your head. Jungkook slaps the back of his head before taking the cigarette from him and putting it out on the wall he’s leaning against. “You owe me a whole pack now.”

“Care to introduce us?” a guy you don’t know asks curiously. 

“Oh, right–”

Jungkook cuts him off before putting names onto the three strangers’ faces, Namjoon being the one who asked for the introduction, and when he comes to you, he says, “Meet… my girlfriend.”

“Thought you said she was a lousy nerd, Taehyung,” Yoongi comments before chugging from his flask. “Doesn’t look like it to me.” Taehyung chuckles uncomfortably before rubbing the nape of his neck as you tilt your head at him, the glint in your eyes never fading at Jungkook’s words.

“I didn’t get a close look at her before, didn’t know she was a real beauty,” he recovers with a flirt. Another slap on the back of his head. 

“It’s nice to meet you,” Seokjin diverts the topic. He appears very nice and seems to be the only one not smoking. His friendly smile puts you at ease and you politely tell him, “The pleasure is all mine.” Good first impression on all of Jungkook’s friends: check.

Your boyfriend ignores the interaction and stares at you until you gaze at him as well. “What are you doing here?” You can’t read his expression.

“I wanted to ask you…” you play with your fingers nervously, “if you wanted to go to the park with me?”

Jungkook quirks a brow as Namjoon and Seokjin wiggle their brows, Taehyung frowns, and Yoongi smirks. Quite brave of you to ask him out in front of his smoker friends, and it’s impressive that you play into such a role of textbook love: only caring about what your crush thinks. When Jungkook peeks to see their reactions, more or less weighing their judgement, he’s satisfied when he realizes none of them give a flying fuck about him being with a girl next door; someone outside of his type of rather than a free escort, really. 

He doesn’t care about what they think when he smiles down at you and says, “Let’s go.” You bounce on your heels when he swings his arm over your shoulder and walks away from the scene. The unsteady heartbeat is back for the same reason as last time, but you’re waiting to request something else.

The park near the university is peaceful with groups of friends hanging out; couples sitting on benches; the sun shining down on the trees and grass as you aim for the ice cream stand. You try to muster up the courage to ask him first, but you’re feeling courageous as you pull away from his arm and instead latch onto his hand and intertwine your fingers. You glance at him with a blush to see his reaction, but he doesn’t look at you and only squeezes your hand nonchalantly. His grip is tighter than yours. Maybe it’s from the heat, but his cheeks are tinted in a light pink shade. 

You stumble on your heels when you stare at him for too long, but you recover from a fall last second. He holds onto you anyway, furrowing his brows at your shoes. “High heels? Are you trying to reach my height?”

“You like them,” you giggle and continue your struts more carefully. When he frowns, you worry, “Do I not look good in them?” 

“Why would I like them if you can’t walk in them? You look pretty in flats too.” 

After a whole afternoon of eating ice cream, blushing at anything nice Jungkook said, listening to his music while sitting under the sun, the evening has come. Throughout the day, you were dreading the end of it because every second with him is so enjoyable. The warmth of his hand when you play with his fingers is a feeling you never want to forget, and you didn’t notice the little smile on his face when you were lying on his chest as he watched you do the most endearing and innocent thing one could think of. 

“So precious,” he’d thought. It makes the argument from yesterday feel all the more terrifying when he remembers how close he had gotten to losing this moment. It’s nothing he’s ever experienced or even seen before; plain jackpot.

You’re off the school grounds as you walk on the streets passing cafés with Jungkook, hands locked and feeling perfect. You wonder if he has ever done this with anyone before, but then he’s never been in a relationship. Who are the people that comment in his Instagram posts then? A question strikes you, and you admire his side profile as you ask, “You don’t like it when people call you– Ah!” Your balance wavers as you stumble again, this time falling on your knees after your ankle bends. With the pain tolerance of a baby’s, your eyes instantly water and you let go of his hand as you hold onto your ankle. It’s sprained.

“Shit, are you okay?” He crouches down and picks you up bridal style before sitting you down on a nearby chair. The café’s lights allow him to see the scrape on your knee and the bump on your ankle. “Hey, hey, don’t cry now,” he rubs your injury soothingly as he cringes at your tears. He doesn’t know how to comfort you as you whimper and sniffle. 

“Damn these heels,” you cry quietly. 

His eyebrows shoot up in surprise at your wording. “This is my second time hearing you swear. Swearing apparently helps with pain though. Say ‘fuck’.”

A chuckle leaves your mouth, but you decide to try it anyway; the throbbing muscle hurts too much. “F-Fuck.”

“Fuck these heels,” he encourages.

“Fuck these fucking heels,” you level. Maybe the theory is correct, because it feels slightly better when he laughs at your rare vulgarity. A minute passes with you trying to keep your tears at bay while he lightly massages your wound.

When he notices you calm down, he asks, “I don’t like it when people call me…?”

You sniffle and rub your eyes before saying a few seconds later, “Daddy.”

He blinks, stares at you, and his heart skips a beat. With your soft pout and red nose, you look so little to him. “... Yes?”

“Huh?”

“Oh,” he smoothly snaps out of his shock, “I don’t have that kink… Um, say it again?”

“Daddy?” 

It sounds different hearing it from you. Without the drawn out whine or the eggplant emoji next to it, and with your voice, it actually sounds cute. “What does that word mean to you?” he shifts the conversation with a subtle blush.

“I don’t know. You call a fatherly figure daddy, right? A man who takes care of you. People say it during sex too. You’re being a daddy right now.”

“Stop,” he warns lowly, “we’re in public.” He stands up from his kneeling position and picks you up in his arms again. “Have you ever called anyone that?” 

You clasp your hands behind his neck as he walks with ease, as if he isn’t carrying anyone in the first place. “No. My dad walked out on my mom when I was little, and I haven’t met anyone who treats me like you do.”

“Wait, you… think of me as your… daddy?” His eyes are wide and he’s gaping at the path in front of him with knitted brows. He looks so intimidating when you scrutinize his features, but you know he’s just flustered. You timidly nod against his shoulders. “Christ. Why?”

Your answer isn’t immediate because you don’t want to come off as too strong, but he’s impatient as he squeezes your waist. “I know you don’t want people to call you that,” you whisper understandingly, “but you’re so mean to others, and you hurt anyone who upsets you.” He rolls his tongue around his cheek uncomfortably. “Whether it be with words or actions. But you’re so sweet to me… You can be really rude, but you care a lot too. You don’t even smoke around me,” you laugh lightheartedly. 

“I mean, you are a baby. You make it difficult to not treat you like one,” he jokes with a hint of truth. You snuggle into his neck with a lopsided grin and your breath fans his tan skin. “I don’t like being an asshole to you, but I’m not exactly a nice person either.”

“You’re carrying me to my dorm,” you point out as a counter.

“I’m only nice to you; somewhat. And… I don’t like being called daddy by horny women, or men for that matter. I’ve never liked it, so I’m not exactly sure why I’m hard right now.” You tense against him. “Something about your sweet, innocent voice calling me daddy is really fucking hot.” He sighs to collect his thoughts; he can’t wait until he’s in your room. It would just be torture. “Did you get on birth control, baby?” He keeps his volume low in case of someone eavesdropping.

“Yes,” you mumble and grow nervous at what he’s thinking.

“Good girl,” he exhales and swiftly enters an empty alley between two restaurants. “Quite the slut too, telling me all this in a crowd.”

“I’m sorry,” you breathe as he presses you against the wall and has you wrapping your legs around his waist. He’s so thoughtful, carrying you even when he’s shaming you so you don’t put pressure on your injured foot. The shadows casting from the walls in the narrow space limits your vision, but you don’t need to see anything when he’s doing all the work by rendering you immobile from the press of his hips.

“Good choice with the dress,” he says while pulling out his belt and releasing the buckle. You hold onto him tightly without the security of his hands. He pushes his jeans down and has you towering over him by adjusting your position from the back of your thighs. Your breathing is quick and shallow from the anxious anticipation of the raw stretch, but he’s so nice to you today: he shoves your panties to the side and rubs your folds to collect your arousal as lube. He’s being thoughtful by relaxing your walls with his fingers first, and you bite down on a moan at the sensation. He’s still taking care of you by silencing you with a bruising kiss. 

“Thank you,” you sigh against his lips. His two knuckles are deep inside you as they curl and scissor. As nice as he is, he’s also very impatient and it’s not long before you feel his tip lightly poking at your entrance. 

“Ideal for a quick fuck.” He flashes a dazzling smile before it falters in order to concentrate on positioning himself. He closes his eyes and bites his lip as he slowly enters you, a lot more gentle considering the setting and knowing how vocal you get. A hum rumbles in his throat as you gasp when he’s halfway inside. When he bottoms out, he waits a few seconds for you to adjust before his rough nature returns. “You gonna stay quiet for me, little girl?”

“I’ll try.” Your heart is pounding in your chest when he leans in your ear, his breath tickling your neck. 

“You know that’s not what I wanna hear,” he whispers. He isn’t going to fuck you until you say what he wants, and your diffidence doesn’t make an appearance when his fingers are digging so hard into your thighs, his breath is hot on your skin, and he’s completely nestled inside you.

You lean into his ear as well, and meekly say, “I’ll try my best, daddy.” You can feel him shiver under your hands and hear him grunt, “God,” before he starts moving. Fast. You’d think he’s in a rush from how his pace picked up so quickly—roughly—but he may have just discovered his new kink. 

There’s no point in being quiet when the slam of his cock is enough noise deep in the alley, and he realizes that before you do. You’re bouncing in his arms, mouth open in a silent scream with only huffs leaving to not expose your doings, until he growls, “Say it again. Again and again.”

The chilly breeze from the night weather doesn’t affect you when he has you flush against him, and heat creeps all over your body not only from his hard and impatient thrusts but also from his words. “Daddy,” you whine, the same drawn out whine that he used to hate hearing; it makes his abs contract and clench now, a groan catching in his throat. He sounds almost animalistic, and your eyes screw back in pleasure. 

“Quiet, you fucking slut,” he reminds with a following moan. 

“I-I’m sorry, daddy,” you whisper in a strained voice. You can’t keep your vocal cords steady when he’s knocking the breath out of you every time he hits your cervix so deliciously. Jungkook’s a total paradox when he’s being so aggressive yet sweet at the same time, but it feels too good for you to complain. Your head is in the clouds when he bites on your shoulder to practice what he preaches: being quiet. 

“Do you love me?” Maybe that’s not the way you should go on about asking to hear his sweet nothings, because he bites you so hard that you feel his teeth break your skin. 

“The fuck kind of question is that?” he snarls. He licks a drop of your blood off of his lips when he faces you, but the bruising pistoning of his cock doesn’t differ; maybe slams into you even harder. “Hm? Answer me, dumb little slut.” He pinches your thigh cruelly, emitting a pained gasp from you.

 “I just want to hear you say it, please daddy,” you mewl. “I love you so much.”

“Keep fucking begging.”

You initially thought Jungkook became more honest and affectionate when you’re being intimate, but it seems that one word brings out a different side to him: wild and sadistic. Perhaps there are two sides of him being a daddy, one not so much of a fatherly figure. Controlling, dominating, and violent. You’ve received too many bruises in one night.

“Please, please, please, pretty please,” you comply in a cry and hug him tighter.

“Missing something,” he tuts with a breathless laugh. “I love you, stupid girl, more than anything.” He stops ramming into you, and the drag of his throbbing length loses its pace but not its strength. “So, so fucking much,” he strains before slamming into you one last time for his release. With him stuck brushing against your sensitive spot and his shaky moan, your lashes flutter and you clench down on him with the intoxicating wave of your orgasm coursing through your trembling figure. You whimper his name as his cum fills you, the warmth coating your walls while you lose your sense of awareness. 

“Stand on one leg,” he breathes. You know he’s referring to your safe foot, so you disentangle your legs from his waist and stand. The only sound aside from the drown out dialogues from the restaurants nearby is your panting. Though he’s just as drained of energy as you are, he adjusts your dress and underwear for you, even fixing your hair before he pulls up his pants and lifts you. “Don’t call me that around others by the way– especially Taehyung.”

“I promise,” you assure with a chuckle.

The next day, a dreadful Monday, is not so bad when you get to link with your boyfriend and other friends by your usual spot on the benches. You don’t have a lot of lectures throughout the day, and you sit next to Jungkook who’s chatting with Taehyung and Yoongi after your long morning lecture in the afternoon. You peck his cheek as a greeting with a lovesick grin, and the former annoyed look on his face vanishes when he sees you. Soyeon and Minnie are close by, and thankfully there’s no tension between anyone. You’re forgiving, but you aren’t going to forget.

“So you two are actually back together, huh?” Taehyung says with a mocking smile. “What goes around comes around, Kookie.”

“Taehyung, you’re not making this any easier on yourself,” Yoongi murmurs.

Jungkook scoffs and rolls his tongue around his cheek—an irritated habit. “Well then Tae, I’m going to be polite and ask you to not be a homewrecker.”

“I have been hanging around Soyeon too much lately…” he jokes with a tilt of his head.

“Don’t turn this on me,” she says with a quirked brow, tone as soft as Jungkook remembers. You sit back and sigh at their bickering. “I didn’t know his name, you have no excuse to be flirting with her.”

“He isn’t–” You can’t get a word in when Jungkook agrees, “She’s fucking right, you know. Stop tailing around me to get a look up at her skirt.”

“I am not–"

“Oh for God’s sake,” Yoongi sighs like you do. Both of you share a guilty look, apologizing on each other’s behalf. It’s only when you start tracing the tattoos on Jungkook’s arm that he finally looks at you.

“You like it?” he asks, a bit smugly. You nod with a tiny smile. His tongue darts out to lick his lips before he pecks yours, and says, “I’ll add your name to the collection. Thinking of inking my knuckles.”

A blush from his kiss, and a bashful smile from his idea graces your face when you cutely pout, “No…” He laughs at your very obviously fake denial and closes in on you, teasing in a whisper, “Yeah? You like that?”

“Look at you two being so adorable,” Taehyung interrupts with a dreamy sigh, “but I want ice cream.” He holds his hands up by his elbows on the oak table and leans his face on them with fluttering eyelashes. “Kookie? Ice cweam? Pwease?”

“Shut the fuck up,” Jungkook winces at the disgustingly cutesy face he makes, and you release a humoured breath at the friendlier banter. “Go buy it yourself, moron.”

“I don’t have money and I want her tea on how you two made up,” he flutters his lashes again with his fingers intertwined; begging so silly. “Pretty please.”

“Now I’m definitely not going to leave you alone with her.”

“Baby,” you interject, and his eyes widen at the nickname. “I want ice cream too.”

He flashes a quick glare at Taehyung, easily giving into your needs with a sigh. “You’re paying, fuckface.” He snatches his wallet the moment it’s out of his pocket and walks off while spinning it between his fingertips.

“He stole my fucking wallet,” he frowns without offence. “Oh well. So…” his eyes trail to you with a mischievous glint, “you never smoked before, right?”

You shake your head, a bit curious—albeit amused—as to where he’s going with this. 

“You wanna know something? Jungkook reeeaaally likes smokers,” he stretches his hands for emphasis. It piques your interest, and you raise a brow. “I can teach you. We have to do it fast, before he comes from the store. Okay?”

“Um… okay,” you laugh as he switches seats from across you to Jungkook’s spot. 

He takes out his pack where his lighter is also stuffed as he speaks, “So what I’m gonna do is teach you how to shotgun.”

“You can’t do that with a cigarette,” Yoongi states in boredom, a plain contrast to Taehyung’s hyperactivity. “Don’t listen to him. He’s lying to you.”

“Oh, shut the fuck– okay, sorry, didn’t mean to say that.” He turns to you with glimmering excitement, “It’ll be easier on you if we do it with a shotgun.” You merely shrug because you don’t even know what that means. He sticks a cigarette in his mouth before holding up a hand to his lighter, inhaling until the tip burns. Smoke flies past his lips as he explains, “You inhale from the filter, but don’t inhale too much. You’re going to cough, maybe feel a little lightheaded since it’s your first time, but try to hold it in, okay?” 

Taehyung peeks behind Yoongi before shifting his attention to you. He takes another drag from the cigarette but doesn’t exhale. “Okay,” you say with a nod, sharing his excitement at a new experience that Jungkook could potentially approve of. You can rely on Taehyung’s honesty, though the bad memory from before leaves a bad feeling in the pit of your stomach, but you’re ready to create better memories with him. He flips the stick until the filter is between your lips.

He wraps his lips around the tip and your eyebrows shoot up at the proximity. He holds your face between his large palms, and the cigarette is hidden behind his hands. He leans closer and nods at you, and you take the cue to inhale. You hear Yoongi blow out a deep breath just as you take in a shallow one. The urge to cough strikes you instantly, and you hold it in the best you can; your cheeks puff out as you slightly wheeze, and smoke leaves from both your mouth and nose. That’s when Taehyung pulls back, the intense eye contact gone, and you hear Yoongi scoff and the heavy footsteps of someone else. You cough into your hand when Taehyung slips it out of your mouth and holds it under the table.

“What the fuck?” Jungkook asks incredulously and throws three wrapped popsicles on the bench. You feel slightly dizzy when your small coughing fit ends, and you grow confused as to why your boyfriend is glaring at you with such intensity as his eyes flicker back and forth between you and Taehyung.

“Had to take you up on the homewrecker offer–” Taehyung’s sentence is cut off when Jungkook pulls him up by his collar, hesitates with his fist flying midway, then forcefully pushes him onto the pavement instead. He’s also confused– frantic, and doesn’t know what to do.

You’re semi-conscious of what he’s doing, but consuming nicotine for the first time leaves you feeling quite strange. You feel like you’ll stumble if you try to stand up, and slur if you speak, so you just wait it out.

“What– Why are you just sitting there?” he asks you with violent gestures. “What the fuck?” He holds onto his head, and all of your friends are quiet as they watch him. They must have missed you smoking for the first time. Yoongi waits for him to stop pacing.

“It’s not what you think, Jungkook,” Yoongi calmly tells him. What is he thinking though? “I know it looked–”

“The fuck it did! Right fucking in front of me? How the fuck are you so calm?” he yells. 

“Hm?” you say. He watches you in astonishment: bottom lip jutting out and brows scrunched. If he didn’t see you shamelessly kissing Taehyung out in the open, he would be doubting his own vision because of how unbothered you seem. It bewilders him; why aren’t you reacting at all?

“They weren’t–”

“It took almost one fucking week of dating for you to resort to this?” Taehyung is still on the ground as he sends you a warning glance, Yoongi is unbothered by the ordeal because he’s constantly interrupted, and Jungkook is fuming at you while you just sit there.

“I was just curious,” you relate to the cigarette that is still lit beneath the grass next to Taehyung.

An astounded laugh is his only response as Taehyung smiles at you, but you’re only looking at Jungkook. “And here I thought, like a fucking idiot, that you were the only girl unlike my mother. And you,” he looks at his old friend with menace, “show your face around me, and I won’t hold back again. God, I need to kill someone,” he sighs before storming off. So he doesn’t like cigarettes?

When the fog in your mind begins to clear up, you stand to go after him just as Taehyung blocks your path. “I need to tell him I won’t smoke again,” you try to push him aside, but he doesn’t budge.

He laughs. “It’s not about that. He thinks you and I kissed because I made it look like it.” Just as you’re about to confront him, he clarifies, “Listen, I just want his reaction on this, okay? Don’t you want him to feel how you felt when he kissed your friend?”

“I’m over that.”

“Are you though?” No, you aren’t. “Aren’t you paranoid? All nervous when he’s around other girls? Or even when he’s just not around you?” Your silence prompts him to continue, “You’ll truly forgive him if you take revenge. You know he won’t do it again if he feels the same way you felt.”

“But that’s cruel…” you try to reason.

“And what he did wasn’t?” 

Like the little devil on your shoulder, he enters your mind and reads it for his own agenda. What is his intention? Do what he couldn’t do with his ex? Is he… helping you? What he did was bad, so why aren’t you calling him out for it?

“What do I do?” you dodge his question. He knows the answer anyway.

He smiles with satisfaction. “Let’s talk it over a few cigarettes, hm?”

Back to square one– no, square zero. At square one, you could at least interact with Jungkook, do his homework and have him kiss you when he was satisfied; you don’t have anything to do with him now. Taehyung warned you of this, told you Jungkook would start seeing other people and avoid you unless he wanted to hurt you. How he knows him so well is beyond you, because that’s exactly what happens in the next four days.

You watch him from afar like before, see that scowl on his face that you haven’t seen in a long time after you met. Only two aspects have changed: the eye contact and Taehyung’s lack of presence around him. Jungkook’s eyes are always on you, filled with so much disdain and hatred, even when he’s kissing another girl. Smoking stops you from crying because of how dizzy you get, and Taehyung is always with you – waiting. Both of you are waiting for Jungkook to do something, and it’s a surprise Taehyung still hasn’t been beaten to a pulp for just talking to you.

Maybe it’s a sign that you and him weren’t meant to be. In the span of a short while when you were together, only problems have surfaced. So much misery and anger in a relationship isn’t normal; it’s toxic. But you wait anyway.

“Look at him glaring at you with a girl on his lap,” Taehyung chuckles before lighting up his cigarette. He’s leaning on the wall next to the campus entrance with you.

“Nothing new,” you croak and take a drag from yours, coughing again. It’s déjà vu, if anything. One has to learn from their mistakes to reach success, right? This situation is just one of them for the better of your relationship. Has to be. 

“Worldstar,” he sings with a laugh. “I kind of miss hanging out with him, though; and the rest of my friends.”

“Yeah.” You can’t exactly pay your utmost attention to his words when you’re having a staring contest with Jungkook, who is practically devouring the unidentified girl’s mouth. It doesn’t sting as much as long as he has his eyes on you because you know what it means now: he’s trying to make you jealous. You didn’t know that before, but you didn’t know Jungkook as well as you do now before either. 

“I know what you’re thinking.”

“You somehow always do.”

Your reply humors him. “You want to go up to him, tell him what I did. But you know I’ll stop you.” His eyes squint as his cheeks hollow to inhale the nicotine. It’s a Marlboro Red, not exactly fit for a starter like yourself. You hate that you can’t even stand without using the wall as a leverage, but the effect is a necessary distraction.

 “Why are you… so invested in this?”

He shrugs. “It may not seem like it, but it’s going to help strengthen your bond. It also gives you enough time to stop liking him and fall for me instead, but that’s just a plus.”

“What?” you slur. The cigarette is hanging on for dear life between your fingertips because of how weak you feel.

“We should kiss– for real this time,” he blurts. “He’ll talk to you sooner. God, I really want to kiss you.” He drops his stick before grabbing your face and softly crashing his lips against yours. You don’t close your eyes, you don’t really do much of anything while he does what he wants. It goes on for twenty seconds before he slowly pulls back. “He’ll talk to you tonight,” he exhales. “You’re welcome.” He pecks you again.

You finally close your eyes and your head hangs limply. “You’re the real problem,” you murmur, “you keep tearing us apart. The villain.”

“That kiss was on me,” he admits, “but I’m just making you face reality. Sometimes you have to be the bad guy, right? Only reason I can smoke with you is because Jungkook cares a fuckton about me. I’ll make it up to you as well, when your relationship isn’t a fucking lie.”

Couples go at their own pace, don’t they? Maybe this is how long it’s supposed to take for you to be one with your betrayed boyfriend. This is the real beginning; Taehyung is just the catalyst. 

You see it when Taehyung is gone and Jungkook isn’t kissing back anymore. He isn’t even glaring. He’s just blank.

Perhaps love isn’t all you need to be with Jungkook.

It’s late in the evening and the nicotine still hasn’t worn off. You haven’t moved an inch from your spot and neither has Jungkook from a distance, still on the same curb across. The girl left when she didn’t receive any responses from him for a minute straight. An emotionless “fuck off” was enough for her to angrily storm off.

You have no idea where Taehyung went and you’re sitting on the ground with your knees to your chest and hands on your sides. Jungkook is staring at you from the bench. You just need to wait because he’s going to approach you like his friend told you.

People aren’t in the yard so it’s mostly empty in the open space. The lights from the streets and inside the building you have your back against don’t allow you to see your boyfriend clearly enough. He doesn’t have an issue with making out your features though. That kicked puppy expression on your face is drawing him, but he hasn’t been cruel enough.

It’s been difficult treating you like shit, so he doesn’t bother. It’s pathetic anyway, more pathetic than having smeared lip gloss on his mouth that he hasn’t wiped off. He knows he shouldn’t be so immature – he’s twenty years old. He’s old enough to be able to communicate, but no one’s been making it easy for him.

He has to decide whether he wants to be with you or just end it all before he feels any worse. 

As the saying goes, no pain – no gain.

Jungkook slides down the wall and sits next to you after trudging in your way. It’s silent at first, and he doesn’t return your gaze when you look at him. You wait, and so does he. But he’s more impatient than you are; more hurt. 

“What did you see in him, for God’s sake?” His voice is tired; words merely a sigh. You stay patient. “I mean, right after I opened up to you? Why?”

“I was paranoid,” you croak quietly, as if you’re about to faint, “terrified of you being with someone else. Maybe if you felt what I felt…”

He lightly shakes his head. “No, you didn’t think of that on your own. You didn’t kiss him either.” You lean your head on his shoulder. “You didn’t want to smoke, didn’t want any of this to happen. What are you doing, my love?”

You sigh. “I didn’t do anything. I don’t do anything.” The issue is that you let yourself be manipulated and molded into anything Jungkook likes, but he’s never told you what he likes. “All I know is loving you. That’s it,” you shrug tiredly, “that’s all I do. Everything I do, I do for you.”

“I’ll ask you for one thing– okay, two. Scrub your fucking lips and never talk to that piece of shit again. I’m not friends with good people,” he turns to you, “I don’t want you around them. I’m stuck in a constant cycle of toxicity and you’re the only good fucking thing in my life right now. I don’t want you to smoke or talk with my friends.”

“Then why do you?”

He stammers, “I-I’m used to it, I don’t fucking know. I know how to protect myself, but you’re too… untainted for them. Look at us, we don’t even fucking dress similarly. You and I have nothing in common.” He huffs to himself and looks up to the sky. “If you know what’s good for you–”

“You are good for me,” you interject.

“Don’t fucking lie to yourself,” he scoffs at you, “I’m anything but good for you. Do I give a fuck though? No. I’m selfish, and I don’t want to lose you. But if you–”

“I don’t.”

“Okay.”

Another moment of silence passes. He’s the one to break it again. “I don’t want to have an issue like this ever again. No more infidelity, or whatever the fuck, no more silence. Communication, right?”

“Right. And no more getting involved with your social life.”

“Thank you,” he bows his head and licks his lips with a sigh. “I can’t deal with this again. I don’t want to leave like my dad, whore around like my mom; I just want to have normal fucking relationship problems.” His anxiety translates to his body language: nibbling, knee bouncing, cracking knuckles. He doesn’t like to talk about his family, friends or even you. You’re calmer in comparison. “Tell me… we’ll start over.”

“I’m not resetting my love for you,” you playfully nudge him.

The corner of his mouth curls. “Not like that. Let’s go back to you doing my homework.”

“Really?”

“I missed a fucking assignment today, okay?” he laughs. “I want to forget about all of this sad shit, you ever meeting my friends, Sooyen or whatever, all of it. Just you and me, okay?”

“Set our own pace,” you add with a nod. “No one interfering with our… bullshit.”

“Don’t fucking swear,” he puts a hand over your mouth and pushes your face with a wide grin. You giggle with him. 

Now that Taehyung and Soyeon’s over, there’s nothing left to chance with the involvement of someone else. Trust blooms instead, and it’s not so bad when Jungkook shares a cigarette with you as you take tiny puffs per his instruction. You are safe with him; not dizzy, lightheaded, manipulated, nothing. 

You’re happy, and so is he. Maybe that was the intention, but it means nothing. Taehyung sought vengeance through your relationship, and that’s that. No one can hold Jungkook against you when he’s in the palm of your hands, ready to tell you more than anyone else can offer. 

Jungkook’s love and trust: check.

When he flicks off the ash of his cigarette, you snuggle into him and whisper, “I love you daddy.” His ring glimmers under the moonlight as he pets your hair.

“Love you more, babygirl.”

#bts imagines #bts scenarios #bts x reader #jungkook imagines #jungkook x reader #bts smut #jungkook smut #jjk smut #bts fic #jungkook fic #networkbangtan #jeon jungkook smut #jeon jungkook #bts jungkook #bts

[theladyismyshepard]

I love your characterizations of the daughters and all of your imagines they are fantastic! i was wondering would it be okay to request an imagine where the reader says to the daughters like during an argument or something,“you wanna kiss me so bad it makes you look stupid!” and they all react to her in different ways? plz take ur time with the imagines and don’t feel pressured/rushed as ik writing should be something that is fun and not feel like a chore, thank you for all the content you have written so far :)

@frustratinglyinquisitive also maybe this could double as your #28 prompt? 🥺👉👈

Why Does Everyone Wanna Kiss Me So Bad?

The sunset was shining bright enough to sting and obscure eyesight, but that didn’t stop you from staring up into the pink and orange hues. Every time you blinked, the phantom flash of the sun still danced along your eyelids, leaving a glare across your vision. You weren’t even bothered by it, not when this numbness had clung itself to you, leaving you idle and just there. You flexed your fingers, and it rattled the chains locked around your wrists, bringing you back to where you were.

The boxed confinement you were trapped in felt more of a cage rather than the carriage bumping along the rocky trail that led you to your new prison — yes, Castle Dimitrescu sounded to be just another form of punishment, though you were uncertain as to why you were to be moved from Heisenberg’s watch to Lady Dimitrescu’s estate. You could hardly call it a step up from the twisted games he forced you to play within his factory.

You were sure you were on borrowed time and it was nearly time to collect, and you were certain that time had come when the four Lords surrounded you with Mother Miranda playing the head of the beast, leaving you cowering on the floor. The familiar iron hammer and the stench of billowing cigar smoke was on your right.

Standing next to him was quite possibly one of the ugliest... things you’d ever seen. A cloak hid a majority of his body, but you had the suspicion that the misshaped person next to Heisenberg wasn’t entirely human... you got that vibe from everyone in the room. Especially the weird doll that couldn’t seem to reign in its excitement as it bounced in the veiled woman’s lap seated next to Mother Miranda.

There was nothing human about the golden eyes that peered into yours from under the brim of a wide hat. They seemed calculating, curious, if not a tad bit confused as they surveyed your weak form. You looked away, unable to handle the weight of the woman’s gaze, and that was how you caught Mother Miranda’s bright eyes cutting into you from behind her bird-like mask.

“Oh, how I have been waiting to meet you, little one.” her voice demanded respect, but all you could do was gawk. “You are a stubborn thing, I’ve heard.”

Her gaze slowly crept over to Heisenberg as she said it, and you couldn’t help but feel a tremor of fright at his angered snarl, his arms crossed petulantly. It was true, you had endured many weeks at the hands of the leather-clad man, and while he did his worst, you refused to succumb to his torture, though for how much longer, you couldn’t say.

“I cannot fathom what keeps you here, but there is nothing special about the common human.” said Mother Miranda, and the mounting irritation was crystal clear. “You might have one looking like a dog chasing its own tail, but let us see how you fare in Castle Dimitrescu.”

You could immediately tell who dwelled there with the way the woman wearing white was smiling like the cat who ate the canary. She was completely predatory and was feeding off of Heisenberg’s disgrace and fury, and between the two, you weren’t sure who the best option was, not when her eyes turned to you and she looked like she knew exactly what she wanted to do with you.

“Do not worry, Mother Miranda,” the woman promised, already moving to stand, and the way she towered over you had your neck craned straight upward. “It’s been some time since my daughters had a plaything.”

That comment alone had the other occupants of the room guffawing and whistling. Everyone seemed to thoroughly enjoy the prospect of her daughters getting their hands on you, even Heisenberg had his eyebrows arched in surprise. Who the hell are these girls? Mother Miranda seemed to know and that was all that mattered.

“You are about to see what real monsters are.”

And that was how you found yourself roughly chained up inside the carriage that guided you to Castle Dimitrescu. You weren’t entirely sure why it was such a slap in the face to Heisenberg, but he seemed rather indignant as he loaded you up, spitting insults through the whole process.

You couldn’t say for sure how long you had been traveling, but it was enough to have all of your joints achey and your ass numb by the time it was all said and done. Hell, it was long enough to feel the temperature drop as you trekked back around the mountains that stood between the factory and the castle. Though that wasn’t to say that you were in any big rush to get there. In fact, your heart dropped when the carriage came to an abrupt halt.

Panic gripped at your heart, and it felt as though fingers squeezed tightly around it. It left you motionless where you sat, wide eyes glued to the door that you were shoved in through. You could hear Heisenberg muttering and rustling as he approached, but aside from that, you couldn’t hear the distinct clanking of his iron hammer. He had such little faith in your survival skills that he didn’t even bother with arming himself to release you. Not that he needed to... You’ve seen what he can become, and you’ve seen what he houses in his factory. He’d kill you dead in a few seconds flat if you tried anything.

But at this point, what did you have to lose? Mother Miranda made it very clear that you were to be eliminated at the hands of these daughters, so did it really matter if you died at the doorstep or in the dungeon? You might have accepted death, but that didn’t mean you wouldn’t put up a last fight out of pure stubbornness. So that was how you had every intention of kicking forcefully at the door once it began creeping open to have him stumble back, possibly cracking him straight in the nose in the process, but that didn’t go as planned right off the bat.

Not when the door was nearly ripped right off the hinges in the haste to open, leaving you jarred, mouth hanging. The sunlight was now faded and replaced by the beams of the moon, but it was a bright night, leaving you capable of seeing that this was definitely not Heisenberg. And neither was she... or her. Uh oh.

“Mother! She’s here!” squealed the redheaded girl closest to you, clapping happily.

“Thank you for the gift, Mother,” said the brunette, her smirk not reaching her dead eyes.

“We will not disappoint you.” promised the blonde, her eyes observing your every move like a hawk.

“Have fun, daughters, but do remember that this one comes special from Mother Miranda, so do not forget to thank her.” their mother instructed, as if you weren’t there.

“Thank you, Mother Miranda,” all three said in unison before three different pairs of hands grabbed whichever part of you that they could.

Heisenberg clicked his tongue from where he leaned against the side of the carriage. He had an arm crossed while the other brought a cigar nestled between two fingers to his lips. You couldn’t read his eyes from behind his circular sunglasses, but you could read the entertainment in his toothy smile before he took a drag. When he blew it out into your direction, his satisfied grin spread again.

“Now, you have fun now, too, ya hear?” He mocked, chuckling as he turned on his heel, mounted the carriage, and prompted the horses to carry him off into the night.

“We’re gonna have lots of fun.” giggled the redhead, her smile the widest of the daughters as she tugged at your arm, dragging you along the pathway towards the castle.

“Not if I get to her first,” the brunette chimed in, her own grip on your other wrist tightening and pulling, almost like she was trying you get you away from the other.

“Who said either of you get the first turn?” the blonde interrupted, frown etched into her face as she tangled her fingers into the collar of your shirt.

“Enough,” drawled Lady Dimitrescu, voice barely more than a bored mumble, but it still had the daughters zipping their lips. “Bela, you are the oldest, and less likely to break her before your other sisters get a turn, so you may have the first turn.”

The blonde grinned brightly while the other two scowled but saying nothing in front of their mother. Your eyes couldn’t decide where to stay as you glanced between all four women as they finally led you through the entrance of the castle. You noticed that the temperature didn’t really increase from taking shelter, the walls giving off their own chill to substitute for the lack of outside wind.

You didn’t even have time to marvel at the interior before Bela was tugging at you with renewed eagerness. You caught the slight growl from the brunette’s direction, but one glare from the Lady and it ceased. What the hell was really going on here? You never had time to process anything before sister after sister said something that left you reeling.

“Aww, her heart’s racing!” announced the redhead, her eyes wide and unblinking as they stared at your chest. “Please let me-”

“Daniela, no,” snapped Lady Dimitrescu sternly, her frown lines on display. “You will be last, and that’s that.”

Daniela’s face twitched in her attempt to bite her tongue to prevent her argument from bursting forth. It didn’t stop her from turning and giving the brunette a glare however. You gasped when her body dissolved into a swarm of bugs before your very eyes. They dispersed and flew this way and that, and you honestly don’t know why it still shocked you when the brunette followed the same exit style. A nose pressed against the side of your neck and you jolted so hard that you nearly broke free of the hand that was now caressing your shoulder.

“Such a jittery, little thing,” whispered Bela so quietly that her following inhale was louder. “Though I hardly smell the sweet scent of terror... Is this one broken, mother?”

You couldn’t help it, you had to chuckle at the complete honesty in Bela’s question. Your lack of fright baffled this girl almost as much as she baffled you altogether, and suddenly you were staring each other down. Her eyes were narrowed suspiciously as she cut her gaze up and down your body. Even Lady Dimitrescu arched a finely sculpted brow at you, seeming more interested now than she did among the other Lords.

“Mother Miranda assures there is nothing special about this one.” said Lady Dimitrescu.

“Why do you not fear me?” demanded Bela, almost sounding offended, her grip on your shoulder tightening. “Your heart is pounding but you aren’t oozing that smell that I like!”

“It’s kinda hard to fear death when you don’t even care about living anymore.” You deadpanned without much feeling, your eyes finding the ground more interesting. “Heisenberg rid me of everything that made me who I used to be.”

“And just who were you before my dear uncle dug his claws into you?” pressed Bela, and you refrained yourself from showing any outward reaction to their connection. You swallowed as you looked her dead in the eye now.

“Someone who would have the common sense to know just how dangerous you are.” You answered, and her brow furrowed.

“Who are you now?” She questioned quietly, her eyes softening a bit under the chandelier light. All you could do was shrug, you had no concrete answer for her, yet you knew you had to supply something.

“Someone who thinks that being abducted by three beautiful women isn’t exactly the worst case scenario,” you chuckled mirthlessly, the bitter smile on your face cutting into your cheeks almost painfully.

Bela stared at you almost dumbfounded before she had to look at her mother, almost as if to double check that she indeed heard correctly before she burst into a fit of giggles. Lady Dimitrescu didn’t even meet her eye, she was too busy staring into your soul. Only when your eyes fell to your feet did you hear her heels clicking away up the winding staircase.

“Remember what she’s here for, dear,” she drawled, never turning back, and leaving you alone with Bela.

“If you’re gonna kill me, just get it over with.” You spat, attempting to sound brave rather than defeated.

Bela’s smile was almost animalistic with the way blood smeared across her lips and stained her teeth, and you couldn’t help but to feel like the prey when she took slow, deliberate steps around you.

“Oh, no, where is the fun in that?” Bela countered, reaching out to graze over whatever part she could touch as she continued to stalk around you in circles, taking you all in. “You are my pet now.”

“I thought I was a plaything.” You couldn’t help but throw back into her face, and you were surprised when Bela merely cocked her head instead of getting angered by your outburst.

“Mother Miranda might not find anything special about you, but call me fascinated.” said Bela, stopping in front of you, her fingertips caressing your throat. “You belong to me now.”

“Us,” corrected a sudden voice behind you, and the haze that was settling over you in Bela’s presence was lifted when you jerked forward.

You tried to whirl around on your heel out of reflex to back away, but Bela’s fingers dipped from your throat to grip at the collar of your shirt to keep you still and facing her. You flinched away from the sudden hand that tangled in the bottom of your hair, pulling your head back until it was resting against a shoulder. Brown hair cascaded down into your eyes.

“Mother Miranda gave her to all of us.” corrected the brunette, the edge in her voice making it like steel.

“Cassandra’s right,” sang Daniela in a sing song voice, and it had a shiver running down your spine, which prompted a round of wild giggling. “Did you like that, pet?”

“If we’re being technical,” Bela piped up with an eye roll, trying to pull you closer and failing when both Daniela and Cassandra tightened their own grips on you. “Mother Miranda gave her to us to tear apart, so she wasn’t meant for anyone.”

“Buuuuuuut?” You interrupted, hoping to add a touch of humor to your case.

Daniela giggled and Bela shook her head in mild amusement, but you found that Cassandra was the more difficult one to crack. She didn’t offer a single facial expression as her eyes surveyed every inch of your body, and you couldn’t tell if she was appreciating the view or if she was sizing up which part of you she wanted to rip off and take for herself.

These three women spoke so callously and so nonchalant right in front of you. These three women were what Mother Miranda referred to as “monsters” compared to the actual beasts you had seen lurking within Heisenberg’s factory. These three women were spattered in blood that you somehow knew wasn’t theirs, and they wouldn’t stop touching you. Hm.

“Aren’t you funny,” Cassandra said nearly monotonous, but her smirk was on full display, and you cursed the light, fluttering feel of your chest.

“I try,” you whispered, afraid that speaking any louder would be taken as a threat to these crazed women, but you did look her in the eye to gauge her reaction.

“Can we keep this one, Bela, please?” whined Daniela, pouting at the blonde.

“I don’t think mother would allow it though.” Bela worried, finally releasing her hold on your shirt, and that had Cassandra and Daniela pulling you closer (and almost apart).

“She is ours to do as we please, we’d kill her if she tried anything.” snapped Cassandra, looking like the whole situation was stupid to her.

“Obviously she will not try to escape!” insisted Daniela, nodding her head furiously towards who you were guessing was the older sister, before turning to you. “Right?”

Bela, Cassandra, and Daniela were all looking at you expectantly, and you couldn’t help but feel warm under the spotlight. You could practically see the thoughts flicking through Bela’s calculating eyes. Cassandra was cool and reserved as her eyes gave nothing away, but her wicked smirk showed she wanted something from you, whatever that might be. Daniela’s eyes were intense as they bored into you, and her smile was almost unhinged, and honestly who were you to break it?

“I could never say no to three pretty girls.” You flirted, wagging your eyebrow to each sister, and the response was immediate.

Bela’s mouth parted in a silent gasp before she latched onto the front of your shirt again and started giggling. Cassandra looked entirely predatory now as her eyes flashed and her smirk showed all of her teeth, her own chuckles slipping out. Daniela, who was curled around your arm the whole time, had stars in her eyes at your answer and she smiled widely, throwing her own cackling into the mix, and suddenly it was a symphony.

“I want her first,” pleaded Daniela, eyes never leaving you.

“Mother said it’s my turn with the pet!” said Bela, tugging at you again.

“Why should we get her after she’s been used?” Cassandra argued, her arm now wrapped around you from behind.

“I won’t break her!” snapped Bela, her pulling useless when it was a deadlock between three pairs of hands.

“I don’t care!” cried Daniela, one arm curled around yours and her other hand reaching up to grab your opposite shoulder, locking you in. “I want her!”

You swallowed past your suddenly dry throat. The three sisters were not only talking about a possibility of keeping you around, but it sounded as though they were fighting over you. Your cheeks were aflame as you averted your eyes.

“Look who’s bashful all of a sudden,” jested Cassandra, both her hands falling to your hips. “Where’s all that talk now?”

“I can smell you blushing.” Daniela interjected, sniffing aloud and moaning. “You smell so good... we need to make you blush often.”

“Are we sure we can hide this from mother?” Bela asked one last time, almost like she was seeking permission from her younger sisters now. Daniela and Cassandra shrugged.

“We’ll just have to find out, now won’t we?” You pressed, looking to solidify your place among them... you’d take the position of “pet” over the one of “food” any day.

“Brave little thing,” Cassandra cooed, her fingers rubbing circles on your hips. “I need you with me.”

“Dammit I said it’s my turn!” snarled Bela, finally poking and prying at her sisters fingers locked around you.

“Just because you’re the oldest-!”

“You’re damn right I’m the oldest, and I-”

“You look so stupid,” spat Cassandra petulantly, having enough with going nowhere in the argument, and you could see that this was about to get old quick if you didn’t ease some of the tension.

“You all wanna kiss me so bad it makes you all look stupid.” You sucked your teeth between your lips when it grew deadly silent.

Bela had a crease between her brow as she stared at you in shock, uncertain if she heard you right. Cassandra was a blank slate as she absorbed you taking her insult and turning it back around on her as well. Daniela was wide eyed as she gaped at you for a full five seconds before she snorted and her megawatt smile lit up her entire face.

“I won’t let them get rid of you.” Daniela promised, and you couldn’t recall the last time that she blinked.

“Okay, okay,” sighed Bela, glaring at her sister. “We’re all going to keep her.”

“I hope I don’t break you.” chuckled Cassandra, and coupled with her breath so close to your ear, it had warmth flaring in the pit of your stomach.

“Don’t get bashful on me, now,” you smirked back, relishing in the giggles that surrounded you.

“Come along, plaything,” quipped Bela, winking at you as she dragged you along, the sisters following along with her this time. “We’ve got to show you your new home.”

Wild giggling echoed throughout the castle, and it was becoming your new favorite tune.

#bela dimitrescu #cassandra dimitrescu #daniela dimitrescu #lady alcina dimitrescu #lady dimitrescu's daughters #resident evil 8 #resident evil village #lady dimitrescu #lady dimitrescu’s daughters x reader #alcina dimitrescu

[skzsauce01]

Clementia

Anniversary Request Special

Description: You’d always had a special place in your heart for Lee Minho even though he gives you countless reasons to hate him. How long will your patience last?

Warning: alcohol, sexual assault

Word Count: 2.5k

Pairing: fem!reader x Minho

“Y/N—”

“Go away, Minho.”

“Y/N, look at me.”

“I said no!”

“Well I said I’m sorry.”

You snap around to face him. “Sorry isn’t going to cut it, Lee Minho. You screwed up. You. Screwed. Up. I gave you one request, and you couldn’t even do that.”

“I had my reasons!” he protests.

“Yeah? Well let’s hear them.”

He emits a few noises but can't come up with anything. His face flushes red, but not as red as yours.

“There’s no excuse for breaking someone’s heart ever. Remember that.” You turn on your heels and begin walking away until he says something even more repulsive.

“Why do you care so much? She’s not even your real sister!” he calls after you.

You pause, unable to comprehend how such words could ever enter your ears. You then slowly walk back to him as he stiffens with every step you take.

“Not my real sister?” Your voice is soft, but it is effective.

“I mean—”

“You’re saying the girls at Epsilon Phi aren’t sisters?” Your voice begins to rise. “We’re more sisters than you and I were ever friends, Lee Minho! We love each other more than biological families do, but of course you wouldn’t know how that feels, would you? All you have in your chest is a cold, hard piece of coal!”

You turn away and break off into a run this time. Tears stream down your face from being insulted and betrayed by someone you held with high esteem.

You like Lee Minho. Of course, you’d never admit that. To the world, he is just some kid of your mom’s friend who annoyed you to no end, but through the arguments and time spent trying to prove each other wrong, your feelings grew bit by bit. When he had a relationship with your very own Little, you held in your feelings and wished them both the best. After all, you love both of them, and their happiness together was good enough for you.

That is, until Minho broke things off as nothing but a fling.

Minho has always been a huge flirt, but he’d promised to take her seriously this time. You made him swear it, and you emphasized how much your Little meant to you. Now, because you’re his family friend, your Little won’t even speak to you. Minho had ruined your and her relationship, and evidently yours and his too.

He didn’t used to be like this, all manipulative and amorous. You remember he used to follow you at the heel, caring about nothing more than sticking gum in your hair. It wasn’t until senior year of high school did he start hanging out with random girls and trying daredevilish things. You missed the old Minho, but you thought you’d accept him for all his changes since you did, after all, like him.

Until this moment, that is.

What he did was too much. What he said was too much. You know he is becoming toxic, and if he is going to continue down this path, even your love isn’t going to bring him back to your heart.

Minho watches your waning back then slams his fist against a nearby tree with a curse. You didn’t give him enough time to explain, not that he would have been able to in front of you.

You’d forgive him though, right? You have to. When he messed up before this, Minho could be sure you would. But now, he isn’t so certain. He has never seen you so angry and disappointed before, and he did that to you. Him. Minho lets out another string of curses and trudges back to his room.

He tries making it up to you the very next morning. He shows up to your 8 AM class with a cup of coffee and slides it onto your desk before sitting down himself.

You don’t even look at him. You just take the cup and slam it down in front of him, causing its contents to spill and burn your fingers. He quickly takes your hand in his and begins wiping it with his sleeve, but you recoil your arm and take out your own napkin.

The next place he tries is at your neighboring frat party. He knows you would be there, so he wears his tightest black jeans and a loose button-up. This trick has worked with other girls, so he hopes it would on you.

He takes the dance floor with his powerful dance moves and charisma. He can see you deliberately turned away from him and chatting with someone else, so he dances towards you. The cheering circle that has formed around him moves as well, engulfing you into the crowd.

You finally turn to make sure you don’t bump into anyone. Minho takes this chance to shoot you a wink which draws the crowd’s attention to you. They cheer and push you towards him despite your protests.

Minho takes your arm and leads you in the dance. You used to like dancing with him; your and his flow matches perfectly, and the two of you could revive a dying party just by dancing together. Today though, you just aren’t having it.

Minho puts a hand on your shoulder and scoops his hips low earning a cheer from the crowd. You can hear them calling your name, anticipating your response. You look down at Minho and immediately recognize his choice of clothing.

I wonder who’s going to have her heart broken tomorrow, you think with a dry laugh. Minho flinches, recognizing that sound. You take his falter as a chance to fling his arm off of you before walking away.

A chorus of oohs fills the room, and the crowd splits like the Red Sea for you.

You hear your name from his lips again. “Y/N!” It is more strained now than it was last night. Desperate. Defeated.

You gave him some thought after hearing the sincerity in his tone, but you are glad you did not turn around that night when you see him in class with some other girl on his lap. Whatever. He’s dead to you now, so why should you care what he’s doing?

Minho watches as you walk farther and farther from him. He pushes the girl off and continues to stare with narrowed eyes at you as you greet your new seat neighbors.

This isn’t how he predicted you would react. Truthfully, he kind of knew this attempt wouldn’t work. For one, it hadn’t worked once since he first tried it in high school. He thought hanging out with other girls would make him more attractive, more desirable by competition. At least, that’s what some then-college kids told him. Once he started, he just found himself unable to stop. It was a self-feeding cycle, really. Holding onto other girls and charming them numbs the void in his chest, but you ignore him whenever he acts like this which only further widens the gap. 

What is he to do though? This is the only life he knows, and so, it is the life he leads. Not all love stories can end happily.

And his sure doesn’t seem like it is going to. 

Sirens wail in the background. With the amount of girls he’s fooled around with, he kind of had it coming. Minho stares at his wrists, not daring to think, but one thought keeps recurring in his mind: you. He is going to disappoint you yet again. You already hate him, and now you are going to see him handcuffed too.

The cold wind makes him shiver when you, his emergency contact, open the door and step into the station. Your eyes immediately find him, and you make your way over.

“Y/—”

“Are you hurt?” you ask plainly.

Despite your icy tone, those three simple words fill him with a warmth he hasn’t known for a long time.

“I’m okay.” His hands reach forward, wanting to grab yours and keep you with him, but you’ve already walked away to announce your arrival to an officer.

“Miss L/Y Y/N?” a young official greets a little too enthusiastically. She looks familiar, you note.

“Yes, I am she.”

The officer looks pleased by your annoyed attitude towards the defendant. “Mister Lee is here tonight because of an accusation by Miss Choi of assault,” she informs you coyly.

You look at him. “Minho,” you said with a chilled voice. “Is it true?”

“No! Y/N, I wouldn’t—”

“It’s okay. I believe you.”

“Excuse me?” the officer sputters.

“I believe him,” you repeat. “He’s been going out with more people than I have fingers, but he never laid a finger on them.”

“But Y/N, that doesn’t mean he can’t start now,” the officer protests. “You’re his contact, but you hate him now. Surely, he’s changed”

“First of all, it’s Miss L/N to you, Officer” —you read her name tag and pieces begin to fall together from her eagerness to convict Minho to the inkling you felt the moment you saw her— “Yoo. And secondly, is it not against the law for you to be working on a case where your cousin’s the accuser?”

“How did you—!”

“Nothing escapes us Epsilon Phi sisters, even news from other sororities. Besides, Minho never plays with the same girl twice. As expected, this report is filed for an incident two months ago. You, Officer Yoo, knew I was his contact and waited for us to get into yet another fight before having your cousin put in the accusation, didn’t you?”

She scoffs in your face. “That’s a bold accusation from yourself towards law enforcement.”

“Where is the accuser right now? Shouldn’t she be here for interrogation as well?”

“Well she—” the officer looks increasingly flustered. “She needs rest after having to relive the memories of what happened. We’ll call her in tomorrow. Anyway, Mr. Lee Minho, I can hear your testimony now in room #3.”

Minho stands obediently.

“Wait. I request someone else interrogate him,” you object.

“We’re busy right now,” Officer Yoo huffs. “We can’t just let you choose who does the job.”

You cross your arms. “Sure. Interrogate him and have the entire case be nulled after I file a conflict of interest.”

Officer Yoo grits her teeth but returns to her station to call for another officer.

In the meantime, you turn to Minho. “Don’t answer anything you don’t want to, especially if they start leading you on with questions. It’s in your rights to remain silent, alright?”

Minho nods numbly at your words, still confused as to why you are so nice to him. Before he can figure it out though, an older man appears from the back and takes him to an interrogation room.

“Mr. Lee Minho?” 

“Yes.”

“Nice to meet you. I’m Chief Jeon. I’m just going to ask you a few questions today; is that alright?”

“Yes.”

The chief nods and pulls out some papers. “Would you mind describing what happened with Miss Choi?”

“Well I was with—” he gestures towards the papers with his accuser’s name on it— “and we were hitting it off. She bought me a couple of drinks and at some point leaned in to kiss me. I realized something at that point, and I stopped her. She got angry, saying how she spent all that cash on alcohol for me, and threatened to accuse me of assault if I didn’t do what she said, but I knew I couldn’t do it.”

“Because of what you realized?” the chief repeats.

“... Yes.”

“And what was it you realized?”

“Do I have to say it?”

“According to the law, no, but if it can help you with your case, you might want to.”

Minho fidgets with his cuffs. “They can’t hear me from outside, right?”

“No. They most certainly cannot.”

And so, Minho tells him.

Minho turns around while the metal bars clang shut behind him. The chief thinks he has a pretty good chance, but due to the gravity of the accusation, they still decided to keep Minho in holding to give the accuser more time to make her case.

You stare at him from the other side, arms crossed. Minho takes the fact that you’re still here at two in the morning as a good sign for him.

“Thanks for being here,” he tries to start a conversation.

“I didn’t really have a choice.” So cold.

“I’ll change my emergency contact.”

“Please do.”

He winces. “Look… Y/N, I’m sorry. I’m sorry for insulting your sisterhood and for hurting your Little. You’ll forgive me, won’t you?”

He looks at you with those doe-like eyes of his. For once, you don’t feel anything while looking back at them.

“That’s not why I’m mad anymore. In fact, I’m not even mad,” you tell him. “My Little told me what really happened. She told me that she was actually the one who dumped you after you adamantly refused to kiss her. I asked some other girls you’ve seen and they all said the same thing. That’s why I was so confident with the officer earlier. I guess I owe you an apology for getting angry when you weren’t at fault.”

“Then”—he holds out a hand sheepishly— “truce?”

You look at it but keep your arms crossed. “Taking a step back from you has made me see things I wasn’t able to before, Minho, and that’s made me realize how much you’ve changed. You were my friend, my rival— someone who never failed to get on my nerves but also someone I couldn’t go without. But now” —you drop your arms and shake your head— “I can’t even recognize you anymore.”

You take a step back to leave. You’ve done this many times before, like when he stuck a plastic spider down your shirt or when he called you stupid in front of your crush in fifth grade, but something about this time feels different. Something about this time tells him you aren’t turning back around once you left.

A sudden despair grips Minho and he runs into the bars. “Wait!”

You pause, offering him one last second.

“Your Little,” he gasps, “did she tell you why I wouldn’t kiss her?”

You nod. “The others I asked did too. They said you were thinking about some other girl while you were with them.”

“Not ‘some other’ girl. One other girl.”

“I know.” You begin to walk again.

“Then why are you leaving?” He reaches a hand out, trying to grab any part of you. “Stay with me. Please, Y/N, stay.”

You don’t pause a second time. Out of desperation, he cries out, “Y/N, I love you!”

That makes you stop midstep. He holds his breath as you put one foot back then the other next to it to face him. You are so beautiful when you look at him. He melts under your gaze as you focus on him and only him. He’ll cherish you this time when you give him another chance. He’ll quit this playboy lifestyle. He won’t take advantage of your patience anymore. He’ll give you all that his heart has to offer. He’ll make sure you’re the only one in his eyes. He’ll love you. He loves you.

“Minho.” You relax your shoulders and straighten your back. You tilt your head just slightly forward and erase the edge off your tone. “I loved you.”

#lee minho #lee know #stray kids #stray kids fic #minho fic #lee know fic #stray kids imagine #lee know imagine #minho imagine #stray kids angst #lee know angst #skz #enemies to lovers #fem reader #2nd anniversary special #20210815

[teasty]

kiss yourself (01) | h.js (m)

● pairing: han jisung x (female) reader 

● genre: angst, smut, fluff  ||  fwb to lovers au 

● warnings: consumption of alcohol | degradation + praise | reader and jisung are not in a relationship at the beginning! | choking | semi - public sex | suggestive dialogue | profanity | hair pulling |

● words: 6.9k ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

→ summary: 

It all started when you and your best friend for life, Han Jisung, got a little bit too tipsy at a party and ended up waking up naked in the same bed. After that unfortunate night, you and Jisung confirmed there be a distinguished “friends with benefits” relationship between the two of you, with a few rules. 

Number One: No one else is supposed to know about this relationship. 

Number Two: The minute one of the two of you starts a serious relationship with someone, the benefits are cut off immediately. 

Number Three: Have to respect the other’s wishes, if one doesn’t want to do it, then there’s no argument.

Number Four: No falling in love.

But, when Jisung starts crushing over your classmate, you start to break the rules. One by one.

a/n: first story here :D my dirty mind couldn’t resist smut so here we go

CHAPTER ONE | Chapter Two | Chapter Three

“Oh, fuck, baby… you feel so fucking good.”

It was a stupid way to start of a weird relationship with one of your best friends, Han Jisung. A stupid way to let yourself succumb to his stupid antics and a stupid way to let him be more than a friend, but less than a lover. 

It was a few months ago, and your second year of university was just starting up. Jisung had convinced you to go to some party the week before school would start. But, you were reluctant at first. Unlike Jisung, you were never too much of a party animal. Never too much of a social person to begin with. Jisung was another story entirely. He would always be out late and wouldn’t go back to his house or his dorm room until late, according to his roommate, Jeongin (who thankfully kept tabs on Jisung for you whenever you were suspicious that Jisung wasn’t telling the truth to you and would go out to some party, when he would tell you that he’s just going to meet up with other friends. You didn’t want to overbear him, but you worried for his health at times). 

It was your first party, too. You had never bothered going to one in high school, not wanting to be crowded by drunk teenagers, being thrown up on or spilled on, or watching two people fuck in the corner of the room. It was never your go - to, but Jisung had convinced you to go after he promised that he’d never leave your side, even if he was being dragged away by “some hot chick trying to hop on his dick”. Even if you had wanted to say no, you couldn’t get a “no” past his pleading eyes. So, you had hesitantly agreed to go, and he was beyond excited to take you to your first party. 

He even helped you pick out an outfit, and had taken hours finding the right one for the occasion. You’d never been very fashionable, unlike Jisung, who usually decked out in expensive clothes and accessories (you preferred comfortable, classic clothes like hoodies and leggings instead of skin - tight jeans and overly designed shirts). Jisung had basically tore your closet apart trying to find the “right outfit”. It was tiring, but you will admit that you had fun with trying on new clothes and hearing the praise from Jisung. He had eventually chosen an outfit for you that you felt quite uncomfortable in, but nonetheless beautiful. You had worn a tight pair of black leather pants, a maroon red tank top (that was tucked into the leather pants) and a black jacket. You will admit that it was sexy, and Jisung seemed to like it. 

A lot. 

But, he claimed that guys there would be drooling over you and trying to sleep with you, but he’d be there to keep you safe. Even so, you wondered why he’d make you wear such an outfit to a party if he was only going to keep you away from a one night stand, one you wouldn’t even remember anyways. He did claim that he wanted you to ‘keep your innocence’, which was total bullshit since he knew you weren’t a virgin (you lost it to some jock in high school who had been eyeing you during a football game) and definitely not innocent, as you both liked to constantly make dirty jokes here and there. 

The party was at some rich kid’s house, and their parents were out of town. Their house was gorgeous and big, but filled to the brim with loud university students, some you had even recognised as your classmates. Jisung had kept his hand interlocked with yours as he pulled you through the crowd at the entrance and to the living room, where there was a table full of food and drinks, and even a cliche bowl of spiked punch. You were glad not as many people crowded the table, but Jisung obviously had some friends there, since he hugged one of them before going back to you. 

“Hey, Hyunjin. Felix. Have you guys met (Y/N)?” Was the first thing he had said to them, and you were somewhat flustered by the sudden attention. But you suspected that you should have expected that kind of attention, since Jisung seemed oh - so excited that he’s taking you to a party. 

“I don’t think we have,” said one of the two. You were taken aback by how deep his voice was. It wasn’t forced either, his voice was so relaxed, you almost felt like you’d be pulled into a deep sleep if you were to listen to his voice for hours. He was handsome, too. His bleached hair was a little long, but not as long as the other man’s, with brown roots peaking through the top of his head. “The name’s Lee Felix. I didn’t know Jisung kept such pretty friends away from us.” 

“Oh, don’t be a flirt,” says the other man with long hair, which was tied back in a ponytail. You had concluded that he was Hyunjin, if the other was Felix, “And, no. I think I’ve seen you around though. But not in… those types of clothes.” 

“Yeah, and you call me a flirt?” Felix cocks a brow at Hyunjin, who only glares back. 

“It’s not flirting if it’s just stating a fact. I’ve seen her around… but in oversized hoodies and leggings,” Hyunjin counters. 

“Alright, alright, pipe down,” Jisung interferes, stopping what would have become a petty argument about who’s flirting and who’s not. “Well, since you both can’t make a decent introduction… (Y/N), this is Felix,” he points to the man with the deep voice, “and this is Hwang Hyunjin. I think you guys might be in the same chemistry class last year, am I right?” 

“Oh, yeah…!” Hyunjin claps his hands together, “You’re the one who nearly blew up the whole class! Oh, I remember, now.” Hyunjin and Felix laugh together, and Jisung gives you a weird look. 

“It’s a long story,” you sigh, chuckling along with their contagious laughter, “Let’s just say that I was too tired to function and got mixture A mixed up with mixture B and almost made a really severe chemical reaction. I don’t think it would have blown up the whole school, though.” You fold your arms, and Hyunjin shrugs his shoulder.  

“Who knows,” Hyunjin says, and you squint at him. “I’m not a chemistry genius, but it could have been bad. That’s not the point. I’m glad to meet you, (Y/N). I hope we can be closer.” 

“Ditto,” Felix smiles down at you, and you chuckle awkwardly, flustered, “You seem like an interesting person. How did you and Jisung meet?” 

“We used to be neighbors, like, a decade ago,” Jisung answers for you, leaning against the table filled with drinks and food, “Since we were the same age, we stuck together. Even after I moved again, we still talked like every day over the phone until university hit. Thankfully we got into the same school, and we both are going to live on campus, so… It’s been a lot easier.” 

“Surprised you two were able to stay close even through distance,” Felix comments, and you and Jisung share a brief look and smile, “Not a lot of people are able to hold a strong relationship when the only thing they have is a phone or computer. Take Hyun for example, he couldn’t stay friends with this one chick even if he tried.” 

“Wasn’t my fault she sucked at holding conversations. She always expected me to make up all the interesting shit. Kinda glad she ghosted me, now,” Hyunjin laughs, almost defensively, as if embarrassed by such a situation. 

“It was your fault for trying to cling to her,” Jisung intervenes.  

“Oh shut up, shortstack,” Hyunjin grumbles, and Jisung’s brows raise in challenge. 

“Say that again, pretty boy, I dare you,” Jisung threatens, and you glare over at him, but he didn’t seem to care for your glare. Hyunjin and Jisung did end up getting into a petty argument about it and you had to stop it by asking Jisung to show you around the place. But, not before trading numbers with Felix and Hyunjin, since they insisted that they wanted to get to know you better (Felix still grumbling irritably about how Jisung kept “such a pretty friend” away from them for so long). You wouldn’t deny new friends, even if they were Jisung’s party animal friends and flirtatious, it didn’t really matter to you. You could use some new friends, anyways. 

You had met a few more of Jisung’s friends (who all seemed to be so handsome that your heart would race every time they’d smile down at you or talk to you), three seniors,Seo Changbin, Lee Minho and Christopher Bang, and another, younger man named Seungmin. Out of all of them, Seungmin and Christopher seemed the most genuine. Minho, Felix, Changbin and Hyunjin just seemed pretty flirtatious. You could admit that you were intimidated by them, and by the party in general, but with Jisung next to you the whole way, you had at least some sense of security. 

Your first drink of the night wasn’t until a few hours into the party. You were a little bit more comfortable with the setting. Jisung had sat you down in one of the living rooms, as you learned there were many. Not as many people were in this room other than people talking or flirting. It felt nice to finally sit down on such a comfortable couch, since you had been standing on heels the whole night, and relax. Jisung had already had a few mixed drinks, and you could see his face getting redder and redder due to the alcohol. 

He handed you a plastic red cup filled with something orange that stunk of different kinds of liquor. “Don’t worry, it’s nothing too strong,” Jisung reassured, and you huffed softly. A bit nervous to drink it, but you did, anyway. It wasn’t terrible, but you could taste the liquor clearly through the citrusy taste. Jisung watched you as your face grew from confused to scrunched up from the bitter taste. You had alcohol before, but every time you had it, it was like the first time all over again. But, when you got used to the taste, the cup was empty in a flash. 

You didn’t know when it started kicking in, but after you had Jisung fetch more drinks and you tried to stand up, you immediately plopped back onto the couch as an instant wave of fatigue washed over you. Your head started to ache, and it was getting warmer than it should have been. Sure, it was nearly the end of summer, but it was like someone shut off the air conditioning. So, you took off your jacket while waiting for Jisung to come back. It felt like forever until he came back, and you instinctively began to miss him. He’d stayed by your side the whole night, and it was weird without him. It was lonely, too, even if there were other people in the same room. You were too nervous to talk to them, though.  

When he did, and handed the drink to you, the minute he had sat down, you clung to him. 

“Woah, you alright?” Jisung laughs it off as you take the red cup in one hand and the other latching around his strong bicep. You were never usually one for skinship, but now was a different story. Each time you looked at Jisung, you felt like he was going to magically disappear. You didn’t know if it was the alcohol that made you so anxious or just you being lonely, but you weren’t really going to let go anytime soon. At first, Jisung was tense, and it took him a minute to get used to you huddling so close to him. 

Like the first, the cup you had was empty sooner rather than later, even though Jisung advised you to sip on it instead of gulping it down, like you had been. After that drink, you didn’t order him to get another drink, you were too focused on the feeling of his bicep to ask for another. 

“You can’t be drunk after two mixed drinks,” Jisung said after a while. 

“Not drunk… just a bit tipsy, is all,” you responded, more of a low grunting than a talking voice. You liked how you could hear Jisung’s voice loud and clear the closer you were to him. 

“Sure. Your tolerance isn’t very high, you know,” Jisung chuckles, and your body moves along with the bounce of his for each laugh. You only grunted in response, having already known that. “And, by the way, you don’t have to cling onto me like that. I’m not going anywhere.” 

“Shut up,” you snapped, but you didn’t really want him to. You just didn’t want him to talk about you letting him go, since you didn’t want to. To prove your point, you squeezed harder onto his arm, “I’m comfy. Lemme have this moment.” Jisung deeply sighs and complies. After that, there’s a comfortable silence. 

You were staring at the way your legs pressed against his as his legs relaxed in a (hot) manspread. His head leaned back, slightly tilted towards yours, which was squished against his shoulder. His hand rested delicately against your thigh, not moving much but sometimes his hand would press against your thigh. It was nice, and you could faintly hear his heartbeat. 

You and Jisung weren’t strangers to cuddling, as you both had a lot of sleepovers before (with a strict talking to from your parents about having sex, and why not to do it), but this was different. Almost intimate. You’re both adults now, so cuddling like you would years ago when you were both barely teenagers wouldn’t be so innocent. Especially with Jisung’s obvious sex drive, things wouldn’t go so well. You both had never done anything like that, either. You both have never even kissed before. Well, there were times when he’d kiss your cheek or hand and vise versa, but nothing more than a peck and nothing more than that. 

You wouldn’t deny your attraction to Jisung. You couldn’t really see yourself in a serious relationship with him, but damn is he attractive. He really matured over the years, too. His beautiful brown hair is in need of a cut, but you liked it a bit long. He might not be the tallest man alive, but his face made up for it. Even if he had the cheeks of a chipmunk, his jawline was as sharp as a knife. You could stare at him for hours, just admiring how he was built. You wondered if he felt the same about you. If he could stare at you for hours just admiring your beauty. Of course, it would probably never even cross his mind, even if Jisung would say how pretty you looked with a specific hairdo or how you looked beautiful in a certain outfit. 

You found yourself staring at him as your thoughts carried on. Your arm unhooked from around his, and you watched how his eyes were closed. He looked like he was sleeping, but you could tell he wasn’t by the way his hand gripped you just above your knee. You were staring at him, and then at his neck. The way his Adam's apple bobbed when he swallowed. 

Your mind grew hazy, void of thought as your lips parted slightly, your breath fanning his neck. His hand squeezed harder around your leg and you could faintly see his brows furrow. He doesn’t do anything nor say anything, but you watch as his bottom lip catches in between his teeth. You want more of a reaction. You don’t know why and you can’t form a reason why, but you do. You push yourself a little bit further until your lips connect just underneath his jaw. Your warm tongue pressing against his warm skin. You can feel how his hand trembles and the way his leg twitches underneath your own. Jisung emits a breathy groan, and you can feel it against your tongue. 

“(Y/N)...” Jisung musters out, but you only press wet, slow kisses along the side of his neck, “What the fuck are you doing?” His voice is deeper, raspier and darker. Almost scary. If you weren’t so blank in the mind, you would think he’s mad. But all you can think about is urging him on further. You don’t want to answer him. You don’t have an answer to begin with. 

“Just relax,” You whisper closely to his ear, nipping at the skin below his ear, and he sharply inhales. At this point, you don’t care who’s watching or why you’re doing this. The soft, breathy sounds Jisung emits makes you feel different, and the feeling of his warm skin against your tongue is addicting. “Don’t push me away.” You whisper again, one of your hands creeping up over his defined chest and along his neck. 

“You have no fucking clue what you’re getting yourself into,” Jisung groans out, and you only chuckle against him. Briefly halting your wet kisses to his neck to smile lazily. “I’m being serious, (Y/N).” You know he’s serious just by the tone of his voice. 

“Mmm…” was all you responded with as you pressed your body against the side of his. Your hand gripping his shirt as your leg creeps over his more and more. Edging yourself on top of him. “Sunggie…” you teased him by groaning his nickname into his neck. Sucking gently on his skin, giving it a blue and purple hue. You gave him multiple marks, and his hand caressed your arm gently as you breathily moan his name against his neck, “Sunggie… Jisung - ah.”

And that seemed to break him. His hand snaps up to grip your cheeks, aggressively pulling your head away from him to make you look him in the eyes. And it’s a look you’ve never seen in him before. It wasn’t anger or disgust in his half lidded eyes, but a pure sense of utter lust and desire. His hand grips your chin, his fingers pressing against your cheek as his eyes examine your face. His face is a pretty pink from the alcohol and you guessed from him blushing. Now, you’re on top of him. Straddling his lap, and you can feel his hard - on underneath you. 

“You’re playing a dangerous game, (Y/N). I’m giving you one last chance before I take you back to my place and break you,” Jisung says, and you liked this side of him. Sure, you’ve seen him being aggressive, but not like this. No, this is different. You don’t have much courage to speak, so all you can do is let your tongue fall out of your mouth and guide his index finger in between your lips. His mouth parts slightly in shock as he watches your mouth engulf his finger. 

“Fine, you wanna be like that,” Jisung brows furrow, and he stands up quickly, and you let out a yelp as his hand yanks itself from your mouth as both of his hands latch around your thighs. Your legs instinctively wrap around his waist, and your arms around his neck, “We’re going home.” 

It wasn’t easy, leaving without being spotted by one of Jisung’s friends. Felix had come over to see us when he saw Jisung’s arm wrapped around you as your head stuffed into his neck (teasingly kissing his neck). “Oi, Jisung. Everything good?” 

“Yep,” Jisung gives Felix a convincing smile, and you smile against his neck, “I’m taking (Y/N) home. She got a bit too crazy tonight.” 

“Really? She’s been pretty quiet,” Felix notes. 

“Well, she has her different sides to her,” Jisung laughs, “Uh, yeah, well, I gotta get her home, Felix. I’ll talk to you tomorrow, alright? Let Hyunjin and everyone else know that I’m leaving.” 

“Alright, I’ll catch you later, bud. Take care of her for me, alright?” 

“Oh, I will,” Jisung smiles, and you squeezed tighter onto him. 

After that, it was foggy. All you could remember was how Jisung treated you. Calling you dirty things all while praising you. Making sure you were alright while tearing you apart blissfully. 

It was the next morning where everything was decided. 

You were the first to wake up, having the sun shining brightly in your face. You had a blazing headache, and you could feel your head pulsing that morning. You couldn’t even open your eyes after you woke up because it hurt so bad. You hadn’t even considered where you were or why you were completely nude at first. But, when it hit you that there was only a thin, soft blanket covering you, you had the courage to open your eyes and see where you were. 

It was a familiar room, that’s for sure. The bed was much bigger than your own, and you usually had more pillows and blankets than this, so it wasn’t your room. It didn’t really hit you where you were before you looked to your side. You nearly screamed when you saw Han Jisung, your best friend laying next to you. His back turned to you, and completely shirtless. You held the blanket around your chest. You stared at him for a moment, brief memories of last night running through your mind. You wanted to cry as embarrassment and shame powered through you, but a sense of want overpowering it. A part of you didn’t want this to be just a one - time thing. 

“Jisung!” You whispered, nudging his shoulder. He didn’t budge, “Han Jisung! Han Jisung - ah, wake up!” Your voice raised as you shook him, “Jisung!” 

“What, what? Is everything okay?” Jisung bolts up after you yell his name. Sitting up straight, he hisses when the sun makes contact with the sun. His hand rubs his eye, and you try not to note the scratch marks on his back, the hickeys littering his neck and chest or how he was just as naked as you, only being covered by the comfort of the thin blanket. “Fuck, (Y/N), don’t scare me like that.” 

“Why are you acting so calm?” You didn’t raise your voice, as your head ached terribly because of it, “Look at me Jisung.” 

And, so he did. He looks up. He didn’t seem as tired, as he saw the blue and purple hickeys lining your neck and what he could see of your breasts as well as red scratch marks on your shoulders. You both don’t say anything for a while. You’re both an uncomfortable distance away from each other, and you didn’t want to admit that you wanted to cry right there. 

“I’m sorry,” Jisung is the first to say something after that tense silence, and your brows furrow, “I… I shouldn’t have… I’m so fucking sorry. I’ll… I’ll.” 

“Why are you sorry?” You asked softly, and Jisung seemed hasty. His hands were trembling as he gripped the blanket, and he didn’t make eye contact with you. 

“I shouldn’t have done anything to you. Everything’s ruined now,” Jisung’s head dips, “I shouldn’t have let the stupid alcohol guide me. Fuck, (Y/N), I’m sorry.” 

“Don’t be sorry. Hey, nothing’s going to change between us,” You crawl towards him, still keeping the blanket firm around you as your free hand cups his cheek and lifts it up towards you. “It was both of our faults…” Jisung stares up at you, “I was the one to make the first move. If anything, it was my fault.” You let go of his face, as he watches as you sit on your feet. You swallow the lump in your throat, and utter out, “And, besides… I don’t regret anything.” Jisung’s mouth falls open, and his brows lift in what you can guess is shock, “I might not remember all of it, but I how you made me feel.” 

There’s another silence, both of you staring at each other. 

“I want to feel it again.” 

Jisung didn’t answer right away, but his bottom lip got entrapped between his teeth subtly. 

“You don’t know that,” Jisung whispers, “You don’t know what you’re saying.” 

“Of course I do,” your brows furrow, almost angrily. “I know what I’m saying, Jisung. And I’m saying that I don’t want this to be just a once in a lifetime thing and never think of it again.” You look away, resting against Jisung’s headboard. “I know that we don’t share romantic feelings for each other. I know that, Jisung.” You look over to him, “So, I want benefits.” 

“You mean…? Friends with benefits?” Jisung musters out in a low, unsure voice, “I don’t know, (Y/N). I don’t want to ruin this friendship.” 

“But, that’s the whole point of it, Jisung,” you chuckle, “I know that you don’t want our friendship to weaken, and neither do I. But, Jisung, I’ve always been attracted to you. Not exactly like I want to be your girlfriend, but I want you in some way. I just don’t know if you feel the same way, so I’m saying it now. Do you want me, Han Jisung?” 

He doesn’t answer right away, which makes you nervous of his answer. But, his answer satisfies you, thankfully; “Yeah. Yeah, I do. I hate to admit it, but I do. I couldn’t resist last night.” 

“I know. It was my fault for urging you to do that even when you warned me not to,” you chuckle. 

And, from then on, you two concluded that whenever someone needs to let off stress or steam in the form of sex, the other should be open for it. Of course, there’d be rules along with it. You didn’t want this to just be a ‘come by for sex and leave’ kind of thing, or thinking the other is romantically attracted to the other so you wanted to make some ground rules. Jisung agreed, thankfully. 

There were four rules. Number One was that no one is to hear about this relationship. Not only would it cause rumors amongst school and your friends, you both agreed that it should be kept top - secret. Besides, you both didn’t want people to think you’re both in a secret relationship and that it’s more than just a friends with benefits type of relationship. 

Number Two was that the minute one of you gets into a serious relationship with someone, all benefits cease. This one is quite obvious. Neither of you wanted to be defined as a cheater if either of you do end up in a relationship with someone else. No matter how much the other person wants it, if one of you is in a serious relationship, until that relationship ends and both are single, there’s no sexual activity. 

Number Three was that both had to respect each other’s wishes entirely. No matter how bad they want it or how horny they might be, if the other person is uncomfortable with something or doesn’t want to have sex, then the other must respect their wishes. Again, no matter how horny or how much they want a certain thing. This also leads to a safe word between the two of you, which was just basic yellow and red. Yellow being to slow down or to take a short break and red being to stop completely without argument. 

And finally, Number Four was that there’s no falling in love. This one was actually Jisung’s idea. Everything else was yours. You agreed with him, but was still skeptical about it. If you did catch feelings, you’d have to hide it. Jisung seemed pretty serious about it, though, which kind of scared you.

And, those four rules led to the present day, months after this event. You lean against a family bathroom sink with Jisung’s fingers curled around your hair, keeping your head up to watch him in the mirror as he slowly pushed himself into you. Your leggings and panties barely pushed down past your ass as Jisung undid his belt and pushed his pants down. Not even prepping you before he pushes himself into you. His cock, covered by the condom, which he had learned to always carry around, slowly dragging against your wet, oversensitive walls. 

He’d been teasing you all day in the movie theatre he’d taken you to with his friends. While watching the movie alongside Hyunjin, Felix and Christopher, he was slowly playing with your clit, edging you on and on. Finally, the movie ended and after half an hour of pure torture from Jisung’s sinful hands, you dragged him to the family bathroom (which was one bathroom with a lockable door). He didn’t even hesitate before bending you over the sink, making you watch him and yourself as he fucks himself into you painfully slow. 

“Oh, fuck, baby… you feel so fucking good.” 

You delicately whimper at the sound of his words from behind you as he fills you. Jisung liked to call you by pet names during sex, like baby, babygirl or babe (anything with baby in it, really). 

“Oh, fuck… I’m not gonna go slow, baby.” Jisung warns the minute his pelvis presses against your ass. 

“I don’t care,” you groan in response, eyeing him in the reflection in the mirror, “Break me, Jisung. You’ve been teasing me all fucking day - oh my god!” you would have screamed if it wasn’t for Jisung stuffing the end of your hoodie into your mouth before his hands grip your waist before pulling out and ramming himself back into you. Once his hand lets go of your hair, your head dips down in pure bliss. Your teeth grinding against the fabric of your hoodie and your hands gripping the sink. 

“I know you like it, baby,” Jisung grunts out as he starts to thrust into you, “I know how much you like it when I play with your little pussy in front of everybody like the little fucking slut you are. I know you like it, baby.” You let out choked moans at his words. The degrading words only make you wetter as you move your body back to meet with his thrusts. One of your hands reaches back to grip his wrist as Jisung’s hands dig into your hips to move your body with him. The way his cock rammed into your tight cunt burned in a blissfully sinful way. 

Jisung had pulled your tank top and bra underneath your breasts so he could lean over you to play with them harshly. His hands gripping your bare, warm breasts as his chest presses against your back. His head presses against your shoulder as he breathes heavily against your neck. His tongue occasionally jutting out to lick stripes up your sensitive neck. Sucking gently on your skin, trying not to leave too many marks.  

“Fuck, fuck…” Jisung curses breathily, and you try your best not to scream as he ruts into you as if it were the last time he’d ever have the chance to fuck you again. Your saliva coats the part of the hoodie that stayed in your mouth for you to bite onto. Your hands weakly grip the sink to try and hold you up, but your legs can barely hold your waist. “Oh… my god, babygirl.” Jisung sweetly moans into your ear. 

Your mouth opens to let the hoodie fall out of your mouth, and you utter out, “Jisung… Jisung I can’t… oh, fuck… I can’t stand.” Jisung is quick to fix the situation by turning you around so that you’re sitting on the sink, legs thrown over his shoulder and your back and head leaning against the mirror as he fucks himself into you. Jisung doesn’t hesitate to grip onto your neck, but careful not to let off air flow, just pressing his fingers on either side of your neck as he rams himself into you. Your hands creeped up to grip his wrist, which only seemed to make Jisung more and more confident.  

He pressed his hand against your core, slowly down slightly to allow himself to focus on pressing his thumb against your extremely sensitive and extremely erect clit. The minute his thumb makes contact with your sensitive bud, waves of pleasure and chills run through you, and your eyes roll into the back of your head as your back arches up, your nails digging into Jisung’s arm. 

“Oh my fucking god, Jisung!” You pitifully cry out, trying your very best to contain your moans so no lingering ears would hear. But, it was getting difficult with Jisung’s hard cock thrusting ever so quickly into you and his thumb pressing firmly against your clit as his hand wraps around your neck. 

“Shh… babygirl, you don’t want anyone to hear, do you?” Jisung chuckles darkly as he looks down at you, no mercy in his eyes as you clench around him. Beyond sensitive to every touch. “I want you to cum on my cock, but be as quiet as you can, baby. Try and be quiet, but I want you to cum.” His hands move from your neck to your mouth, his middle and ring finger slipping between your lips and pressing down against your tongue. 

The moment his hips start to stagger and his thumb pressed harder and harder against your sensitive clit, your hip bucks violently as you feel your climax approaching. Jisung doesn’t slow down when he feels your warm walls clench around him tightly. He speeds up despite how his hips falter and tense as his own orgasm edges up, you let out a series of high pitched moans, muffled by Jisung’s finger, and Jisung lets out a string of low groans against your neck. His thumb softens against your clit, rubbing small circles to ease you out of your climax. 

Your stomach twitches as Jisung pulls out of you, his thumb finally coming off your clit to gently press against your abdomen as he eases out of you. You let out a sigh as let your body relax once Jisung’s no longer in you. His fingers pull out of your mouth to deal with the condom, and you catch your breath. Your hands clutching the sink as your legs stay limp on his shoulders, but he doesn’t seem to mind. 

“You made such a fucking mess. How horny were you?” Jisung teases as he eyes the cum and pure wetness still seeping out of you. You glare at him. 

“Very. And it’s your fault.” You snap, and Jisung raises his hands in defense. 

“Hey, guilty as charged,” Jisung chuckles and pulls up his underwear and pants, not bothering to tighten the belt around him before he reaches over to grab paper towels to help clean you up. 

“Still. You were the one teasing me during the movie,” you utter out as Jisung wipes away the cum with the paper towel, “Couldn’t even focus on it. You seemed to enjoy every bit of it, though.” 

“You know it,” Jisung jokingly winks at you, and you playfully hit his head. 

Once he’s finished cleaning you, you get off the sink to pull up your underwear and your pants, sighing deeply at the sore feeling in your core. “Fuck… Jisung, you’re carrying me back to my dorm.” Jisung couldn’t argue with you, since you’d always have the upperhand, especially since Jisung knows he can become an animal when fucking you, and usually blames it on ‘not being able to hold back’. 

“As you wish, princess,” he teasingly calls you, and you glare at him as he buckles his belt before turning his back to you and crouching down for you to get onto his back. 

When you do, he unlocked the door and started heading out, both of you not really caring for the wandering eyes of people who were curious why two adults came walking out of the family bathroom. Luckily, Felix, Hyunjin and Christopher were all gone, since you couldn’t spot them anywhere. The movie theatre was in the center of a mall, so you had suspected they were somewhere, roaming the stores of the mall. 

“I swear, I’m going to have arms bigger than Changbin’s at some point. Having to carry you everywhere,” Jisung complains, and you groan. 

“It’s not my fault all you do is go rough,” you counter, and you can see Jisung roll his eyes, “Maybe if you were a bit more gentle you wouldn’t have to carry me. But, hey, you need the workout.” 

“Do you not like it rough?” Jisung teases.  

“I never said that,” you mutter, and Jisung laughs triumphantly. 

At first, things were a bit awkward between the two of you, but that was to be expected. It wasn’t until Jisung was knocking on your dorm room door at three in the morning and railed you while your roommate was out grabbing groceries (at three in the morning? You didn’t know why, either.) because he had just gotten into a fight with one of his friends and “needed to let off steam”. After that, everything even related to the benefits you both have turned into a normal thing, and you both seemed to get even closer with each other. You both could talk about information that would be considered weird between normal friends, but since you’ve both seen each other completely nude over a dozen times, it wasn’t as weird anymore. 

“But I don’t just like it rough, you know? If it’s intimate and slow, then I don’t care,” you sighed, resting your chin comfortably on his shoulder. Jisung doesn’t respond. In fact, he frowns at you. Why? You had no clue. All the more, it was a silent walk back to the dorm buildings. Jisung dropped you off at your dorm, and your roommate, a geeky, yet strange, girl named Jeo Jeongja thanked Jisung for taking you home. 

“And, by the way, (Y/N),” Jisung said before leaving, and you raise a brow as you climb up onto your bed, “I expect you to meet me at the D.R. tomorrow night. Jeongin’s gonna be outta town for the weekend.” Jisung winks at you, and your breath catches in your throat. 

D.R. was your secret word for ‘dorm room’. Since saying directly, especially in front of others, that you’re going over to a boy’s dorm room when they’re roommates going to be out of town is suspicious to say the least, you both decided to come up with that. 

“Are you alright with that?” Jisung asks, his tone lacing with a delicate worry. 

“Definitely,” you shoot him a playful smile. 

“Alright. I’ll see you tomorrow. See ya, Jeongja,” Jisung waves at Jeongja, who gave him a subtle wave back, not really interested or immersed in the short lived conversation you and Jisung were having. And with that, Jisung left, closing the door behind him. 

There’s a subtle silence between you and Jeongja. You both might be roommates, but you could never really consider her a friend. The most you two talk to each other is when you help each other study with whatever topic. Once Jisung leaves, Jeongja sits up on her bed and stares at you with a playful smile. 

“Oh my god, I don’t get how you’re not crushing on him” Jeongja giggles. 

“He’s my best friend,” you sigh, laying down on your pillows to try and soothe the ache in your gut from your last session with Jisung, “I could never picture myself with him, you know. If you want him, have at it. But, be warned, he is a player.” 

“Oh. I know that much,” Jeongja laughs shortly. You should’ve known, since Jeongja seemed to have ears all around the school. Every rumor eventually gets to her, and through your ears, whether you want to hear about it or not, “I heard he’s been fucking with most of the popular girls.” 

“Oh, really now?” your brows raise. For some reason, it sparks an angry flame in you. Sure, you might not be in love with him, but the fact that you both have an intimate relationship makes you jealous when you hear that he’s been with other girls, but you try not to show it as much. 

Jeongja shrugs a shoulder, “Just what’s been going around. I only report what I hear. And, apparently, Jisung knows all of the rumors. He just hasn’t said anything about it.” 

“Well, he hasn’t talked to me about it,” you sigh, taking your phone out of your pocket, debating whether or not to talk to Jisung about what you're hearing. After a few brief moments of staring at your locked phone, you decide against it and let it fall onto your stomach. “Do you mind keeping me updated on this shit?” 

“Why? Is someone jealous?” Jeongja wiggles her shoulders and brows at you, smirking. 

“Hell no,” you groan, your head falling back, and you rub your eyes. Exhaustion crashing over you, “I’m going to bed, Jeongja. Do whatever you want, but don’t turn the lights back on.” You get up briefly to shut the lights off before climbing back under your blankets, slipping off your bra. 

“But, it’s only nine!” 

“I don’t give a shit. I’m tired.” 

But, a part of you wasn’t. A part of you was beyond eager for what Jisung had in mind for tomorrow. Your aching core began to throb at the thoughts.

#han jisung #stray kids #stray kids smut #stray kids x reader #stray kids x you #han jisung x reader #han jisung x you #han jisung x y/n #han #stay kids han #hwang hyunjin #bang chan #lee know #lee minho #seo changbin #lee felix #fwb to lovers #au #college au #non idol au #jisung han #new writer #smut #skz #skz smut

[lilacmeadows]

Made For You pt.1

Okay so this is gonna be a series. My FIRST series. So go easy on me pretty please. I’ve never written smut, and I know nobody wants badly written smut. So we’ll see about that. But this one is definitely gonna be more of a slow burn. Maybe 4 chapters? Yeah. I like that. 4 chapters. I’ve just been thinking about this idea for a while and I wanna get into writing. I hope someone likes this.

BUCKY X READER

Summary: Hydra had just finished training you to be the Winter Soldier’s perfect mate when the Avengers saved him. But what’s going to happen to you now that Hydra has deleted your old life and left you with nothing but a soldier that needs to learn to love himself before he can love someone else.

Part 1    Part 2    Part 3 (coming soon)

WARNINGS: explicit sexual content, explicit language, eventual dom/sub dynamics, mentions of captivity and kidnapping. violence- guns, mutual pining, eventual smut, fluff, angst if you squint (must be 18+)

WORD COUNT: 2k 

PART ONE

She’s so used to quiet in her quaint bedroom. The faint whirring of the air conditioner, sounds of footsteps and machinery being rolled outside her door, the music they would play for her when she was extra good that week.

So when she was awoken to gunshots and yelling, y/n was anxious and didn’t know what to do. She backed into the corner of the room furthest from the door and shut her eyes. Hopefully, if she stayed quiet and unseen, things would resolve itself, and she wouldn’t see any violence come her way.

Luckily for her, after what felt like hours later, the sounds quieted down. The gunshots were less frequent and finally came to a stop. She waited for a few moments before sitting on her bed with intentions of continuing her knitting. She wasn’t allowed many activities, but this was one luxury the Men didn’t mind since she hadn’t had any violent outbursts in a long time. She hated being shocked, and she liked knitting.

But the quiet didn’t last long. Minutes later, she could hear footsteps approaching her room. Too late to go back into her corner without being heard through the ‘doggie door’ the Men used to pass her food twice a day, she sat still and slowed her breathing.

‘Anything on that floor?’ She heard one male voice say from further away.

‘Not yet. Mostly supply closets on this floor, but I’ll check them all.’ Said a voice from much closer. He couldn’t have been more than 10 feet away from her door. She could tell they were American like her because they didn’t have the funny accents the Men all had. Gripping her plastic knitting needles tightly in one hand she braced herself for the intrusion.

Her door cracked open a little, then quickly opened all the way.

“Cap, you need to see this.” The man called over his shoulder. “Are you alright ma’am?”

“Yes. I’m fine, sir.” Her small voice replied, a little rough from lack of use, but still remarkably sweet.

“Who are you? Do you know where you are?” He approached her slowly, taking in her meager appearance, but also watching out for the pointy sticks she has a death grip on.

“My name is y/n. I’m in my room.” She replied. Starting to feel very uneasy by this stranger, but also not thinking that he would hurt him. She had been here for so long, it was strange seeing a tall, black man enter her bedroom. Only trainers and watchers were allowed to enter her bedroom.

“What is it?” Another, taller man asked, but his question was soon answered when his eyes landed on the girl sitting on her bed with her tucked gently under her. He immediately noticed her lack of decent clothing, and it caused a blush to creep up his neck.

“We have a girl here, possibly a hostage, maybe an experiment. She doesn’t look like she particularly wants to be rescued.” The first man said to the other, who’s slowly entering the room while trying not to stare at her thin, flimsy, cotton dress.

“Hi, I’m Steve, this is Sam. Do you know where you’re from?” The blonde man said to her while crouching down to be at her eye level. She nodded her head yes. “Well we’re the good guys. We’re here to save you. Do you want to come with us so we can take you home?”

She had to contemplate for a minute. It had been so long since she got here that she couldn’t imagine what it would be like to leave. These men looked sincere, but she knew if she left and was caught, she’d be punished terribly. But if the gunshots meant anything, there would be nobody to punish her. Which means she can’t stay regardless because there would be nobody to take care of her either.

“Did you kill my watchers?” She looked at the blond man after a few quiet seconds. Steve and Sam made eye contact and had a whole argument in silence before Sam spoke up.

‘Yes, we did. But they were bad men. They were keeping you here. But you’re free now. You just gotta follow us, and we’ll get you out of here.’ Sam said, gently. Not wanting her to think they’re cold blooded murderers, but also trying to rush this meeting along so they can board the quinjet, where the rest of the team was waiting.

Steve held one of his hands out to her, which she hesitantly took- knitting needles and purple ball of yarn in her other hand. She thought about grabbing her sweaters, but they weren’t kept in her room. Quite frankly, she had no idea where they were. The Men didn’t allow her to keep the things she learned to knit in her room. But they would give her back a sweater during the cold months. So she just followed the two men awkwardly. Them taking large, hard steps towards parts of the building she had never seen, and her dainty footsteps lagging behind. The trainers taught her to walk with a ladylike gait, on the balls of her feet with barely any pressure to her heels.

After many hallways and stairwells, they found themselves outside the building. The quinjet was parked close by, and y/n’s eyes almost jumped out of her head. Of course she had never seen anything like that before. The men led her onto the loading area which closed behind them.

“Take a break for sightseeing?” Said one man from the front of the jet. They couldn’t see her because of her small stature behind the two men.

“Actually, we found someone. Her name is y/n. She was in one of the rooms, top floor.” Steve said to the man, while fishing you out from behind his back.

She was met with eyes. Many pairs of eyes. All looking directly at her. Not used to all the attention, she looked down at her feet, which were bare as usual and slightly irritated from walking on various terrains. Her toes painted baby pink. Another luxury the Men allowed her. Some watchers were nicer than others. The shorter, fat one that came every other night would bring her a light, barely noticeable, polish that she was only allowed to put on her toes.

Being there wasn’t so terrible. She was 10 when they took her in 2006. She had a mom and older brother, and they lived in a town in Georgia. She often wonders what happened to them that morning when the Men put a rag over her face, and she woke up on a bed in the room that would become her new bedroom.

She didn’t leave the room often. There was a small bathroom across the hall from her room. The watcher would be standing guard outside her door, and she would let him know she would like to use the bathroom or bathe. He would have to stand in the room with her while she bathed, but after a while, they were kind enough to face the wall. She fought for a long time. Refusing to eat the food (which wasn’t terrible), screaming and crying, she even plotted the occasional failed attack. But then they started the shock therapy, and she learned. Being in that chair was brutal. Rewiring her brain into submission. Submission to the Men so they could train her. She had to be ready for the Soldat when he needed her. Why her? She didn’t ask and they didn’t tell her. She learned very quickly that she was only allowed to speak when spoken to.

Make the Soldat happy. That was her mission. She had been told that phrase so many times that she heard it in her sleep. She had never seen or met him, but she was being trained to be his. A possession he could have control over during the brief times he was unfrozen. She was to listen to him, obey, sleep with him, and just make him happy because the mind controlling words were having less and less of an effect, and the Men were afraid he would lash out and massacre them all.

But it doesn’t seem like she’ll be fulfilling her life goal after all because now she’s in the air with a group of people looking at her like she has two heads. A woman with pretty red hair, a man with a large bow, and a man with nice glasses towards the front of the jet, were on one side. On the other was a blond man with very long hair, standing up to talk to a man in a purple shirt, and a man sitting by himself with long brown hair. All of their stares were pointed at her, but his seemed to go through her. Like he had x-ray vision and could read her mind.

“Y/n, you can have a seat right there.” Sam said, pointing to an empty seat next to the redhead who only squinted at her. “That’s Natasha. She’s nicer than she looks.”

“No, I’m not.” She said, making eye contact with y/n. “But we’re glad to have you aboard.” Natasha finished, the slightest smile forming at the girl.

“Um... Cap, where are her clothes?” The man from before asked Steve.

“I don’t know. This is what she was wearing, and I didn’t see a wardrobe anywhere, Tony.” Steve sighed, obviously exasperated by even the thought of a conversation with Tony.

Tony looked at the girl expectantly. Was he waiting for her to chime in? Because he’d be waiting a long time. She was trained very well. Talking out of turn was one of the first rules she learned.

“Sweetheart, are you alright? Do you want something to cover up? We have blankets. What about water? You thirsty? Does she even understand a word I’m saying?” Tony’s last question was aimed at the men she entered with.

“I understand. I’m sorry. I’m alright, sir.” And if the team was trying to keep their staring inconspicuous at first, they completely abandoned that when she spoke. Her voice was so small and smooth. Just a little weak from not talking much.

“How about we get you a blanket anyway so I can be a little more comfortable” He nodded towards Sam who left the room and returned with a large blanket. She hadn’t realized how cold she was or that her nipples were pointing through her thin dress. Or that the cotton dress was really just a white slip that was damn near see through.

Maybe the grumpy looking man on the other side of the jet does have x-ray vision.

“Thank you, sir.” Everyone had to be called Sir. She hadn’t been around any women, but she was pretty sure if they looked as serious as the one next to her, she’d call them Ma’am.

“Tony is fine.” He smiled at her.

“Hey. I’m Clint, by the way.” The man on Natasha’s other side said, turning his body to address her. “So, umm... What were you doing up there? Are you working for Hydra?” Other members of the team groaned and scolded him for being so blunt, even though they were secretly happy he asked because they also wanted to know.

“I was knitting.” She said simply. She was going to leave it at that, but she could see the way Clint’s eyebrows almost touched his hairline at her short reply. So she continued with the mantra she was raised with. “My purpose is to make the Soldat happy. He is my mission.”

She had never seen a room of people’s heads turn so fast. Eyes darting from her to the brooding man on the other side of the jet. He squinted his eyes, looking equally as confused.

She hadn’t realized that her mission was right in front of her.

part 2

#bucky #bucky x reader #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes #james buchanan bucky barnes #the avengers #steve rodgers smut #thor smut #bucky imagine #bucky fanfic #bucky x y/n #bucky fluff #chubby!bucky #winter solider x reader #winter soldier smut

[hereforhalstead]

Showtime

*Gif not mine, credits to the owner*

• Pairing: Jay Halstead x Reader.

• Requested: Not this one! Just fancied writing a little jealous Jay piece as I thought it had been a while👀 hope you enjoy!

• Warnings: Swearing

• Summary: Voight asks you to go undercover with Adam in which you decide to tease Jay about it as the unit are unaware of your relationship.

• Words: 3083

****

You sat at your desk as Voight called everyone to gather round his office, he makes his way over to the whiteboard and swings it round to show the information on the other side, your eyes wander over the board and the sight of so much detail and CCTV stills. You can’t help but realise you never saw him write any that down, so dread to think the hours he was here until last night to put this plan together. 

He was clearly having one of his days where no options were wanted and or needed, he blitzed through the minor details and barely stopped to take a breath. You all stood watching as he reeled off information that you were all supposed to be taking in, you were secretly hoping someone else was paying more attention than you as it seemed to be going in one ear and out the other. You find yourself loosing concentration as you focus on a random spot on the board, you jolt as Kevin nudges your arm. You turn to see Voight raising his brows at you, jaw hung open with the corner of his lip turned in spite “Sorry, what?” you quickly straighten up and actually focus on what he’s saying. “Nice of you to join us again, Y/N” he shakes his head and continues to point out details on the board.

A few moments later you had pretty much got the gist of the plan but it then came to giving out roles “Halstead, you’re gonna be posing as a bar tender to keep an eye on movements inside”. He barked his order and Jay nodded in response, “Kim, you’ll be a drunk club goer who’s trying it on with Jay so you’ll both be near by”. She rolled her eyes at Jay who always seemed to be used in some form of flirtatious way during these things which suited him but didn’t sit well with you. You trusted your team and would never doubt their intentions but it still wasn’t ideal for them to throw themselves at Jay during these missions and you couldn’t even make a well natured sarcastic comment about how he was yours.

You and Jay had been somewhat of an ‘item’ for a few months, you found yourselves growing closer after becoming partners and soon one thing led to another. Unbearable tension built and Kim was the one to call you out on it, fed up of being put in the middle of your silly spats and childish arguments when it was clear how drawn to each other you were. You decided to keep it between the pair of you as Voight made it clear he wasn’t a fan of relations within the unit, Jay struggled at first but after seeing the way Voight laid into Kim and Adam he soon realised you had a point. It was all fun and games at first, sneaky glances across the room, little touches in the locker room but there was always going to be some negatives that you hadn’t planned for. For example, the way girls throw themselves at Jay was something you’d never get used to. I mean he truly was something else but the way they would do anything to get his attention made you cringe, what was even worse was how he would try and wriggle out of the situations but they would follow him around like a lost puppy. You’d watch as he’d get more frustrated with not being able to tell them he wasn’t single and how he looked to you for help but you couldn’t do much more. 

Jay found it equally as hard as he was quite a jealous and protective person, this was magnified when he was thrown into the deep end of men flirting with you and him having to just stand back and watch. He would step in every now and then if they really weren’t getting the hint but if he intervened every time he wanted, someone definitely would’ve caught on by now. 

Voight finished giving out instructions and demands of Hailey and Kevin taking roles of surveillance in the van parked outside the venue. He was quick to dismiss everyone which left you and Adam without direction, “What about us Sarge?” Adam questions and the group hang back, thinking they’ll be involved in a change of plan. “Oh yeah, how could I forget. The main stars of my show” he slings an arm round each of you as he pulls the pair of you to face the rest “Everyone, meet the new hot couple in Intelligence” he proudly announces and you see Jay’s face drop but you’re just as confused “Come again?” you question but Adam doesn’t need telling twice as he doesn’t seem to doubt Voight’s decision “Fine by me” he winks towards you. You look to Kim and cock your eyebrow with an unimpressed glance, she shrugs back at you and smiles which puts you slightly at ease as you didn’t want to step on any toes due to you knowing how it felt to be put in that position with a certain detective. “I’m putting the pair of you undercover, Adam as the big man and you being his not to clued up eye candy” Voight pats you on the shoulder as you notice Jay roll his eyes “Thanks Sarge, won’t take it personally” you sarcastically respond. 

“Go on, go get dressed up the pair of you.” he releases you from his hold as Adam receives a high five from Kevin followed by a “my man” in praise. “I sent Trudy out to pick up some outfits for you, go and get them from her and get your arses into gear. We leave in an hour.” Voight heads back into his office and shuts the door behind him, you make your way over to Kim’s desk and perch yourself on the edge “Why couldn’t he choose you? Surely he knows you have much better convincing power with Adam than me” you mutter but considering the room was in silence you knew everyone could hear. “You know what he’s like with me and Adam, he’s probably doing this in spite of me” she moans “Just remember to stay on his left side, he always favors his right” she adds and you laugh “he’s such a girl”. 

“M’Lady, shall we go and get red carpet ready?” Adam approaches and offers his arm out to you, you run your eyes up and down his body in judgement but he doesn’t move “Come on, it could be worse. You could be stuck with Halstead” he scans his eyes over to Jay who was already leaning on his elbow and watching the pair of you “Suppose you’re right” you respond to play along with his jokes. Jay tilts his head and a sarcastic grin flashes on his face before turning back to his paperwork “Let’s go you two, why are you still here?” Voight’s rough voice echoes through the room as he storms out of his office “Trudy picking outfits? If I come back in a bin bag just know it was better than whatever god forsaken mess she has picked” you whisper to Kim who chuckles as you take Adam’s arm and head down the stairs to Trudy. 

You’re taken by surprise as she pulls out the clothes from the bags, she’d picked out a nice white shirt for Adam with some tailored black pants and some black leather shoes. “A little magician like for me but I’ll take it” he comments as he takes the bag from her, she stares him down with her intense gaze and then turns onto you. You feel yourself dreading what she will present you with but your jaw nearly drops to the floor when she picks out a little satin black dress and when you say little, you mean little. The corresponding black heels soon get placed on the counter and you can see Trudy trying to conceal her smugness but failing “This the kind of thing you wear for Mouch?” Adam asks and laughs to himself but Trudy doesn’t mirror his humour “I rarely wear anything for Mouch” she winks and Adam clears his throat “I’ll leave that alone if you don’t mind”.

You take the bag into the locker room and slip into the dress, this wasn’t you’re normal attire but you were not mad in the slightest. The shortness of the dress would take some getting used to but once you got the heels on you felt incredible. Luckily, you always kept some make up in your locker due to plans within Intelligence being pretty last minute and you liked to make some touch up’s before you headed out to Molly’s for the evening. You took yourself over to the mirror and began applying your make up, a little heavier than usual as you wanted to match the aesthetic of your outfit but still nothing crazy and thanking yourself for washing and straightening your hair the night before so it was already good to go after a quick brush through. You studied yourself in the mirror and was quite impressed with the outcome and dare you admit, excited to see how riled up it would make Jay. You took out your phone and sent him a quick text message, simply saying ‘Sorry in advance’ so you could say you gave him some form of pre warning. 

Stuffing your old clothes back into your locker you head back upstairs and can feel your heart racing as you get closer and closer to the top of the steps. As soon as you come into sight, you’re met with wolf whistles and various comments to which you never know how to respond “Damn girl, didn’t know you had it in you” Kevin pipes up as his eyes roam your body “Not mad about it, not mad at all” Adam chimes in as Hailey coughs to interrupt “Keep it in your pants boys, you don’t see Halstead drooling over her. Be more like him” she adds and you laugh to yourself at the irony. Jay clears his throat and makes his way over to you, your heart thumping so hard in your chest that you’re sure everyone is bound to hear. He hands you a necklace and you stare at him confused, he picks up your hand from your side and places it in your palm with more force than you were expecting, taking you slightly aback “Voight wants you to wear this, something about how it can be a present Adam gave you but it will really be where your mic goes”. Adam peers over at the necklace and nods “I’ve got good taste, you’re very lucky” he suggests with a wink, Jay soon returns to his desk, avoiding all eye contact and turning his attention back to his monitor. 

“Are you not meant to have a bag of some sort?” Hailey asks and you check inside the carrier bag Trudy gave you but see nothing resembling any accessories “Nothing in here, might’ve left it in the locker room though”. You place the bag on Kim’s desk and head back down the stairs, passing Trudy’s desk as you go. She takes a double look as you stroll past and nods to herself “Not bad Y/N. You’ve got a great stylist” she compliments and you dramatically flick your hair in response, “What’s up with the mood Halstead?” she keeps her eyes on you despite her talking to Jay who makes his way down the stairs “I’m not in a mood?” he snaps back, regretting instantly as she widens her eyes at him “Tell your stompy feet that then” she looks him up and down and then smiles at you “Smash it kid”. 

You feel some sort of warmth from Trudy despite what people think of her, she always had a soft spot for you and you found comfort in seeing her as your ‘work mum’. God for bid she ever found out that you think of her that way though, she’d probably stop speaking to you all together.. 

You stand at Trudy’s desk and wait for Jay to leave but he doesn’t seem to be budging, you feel him staring at you as if he is waiting for you to make the first move “Sorry, did you want something or?” she asks and Jay shakes his head “Voight sent me down here to help Y/N look for something in the locker room” he is quick to respond but you knew it was bullshit, Voight couldn’t care less about you finding a bag let alone putting 2 people onto finding it. You push your thoughts aside and carry on walking to the locker room you had just been getting ready in. The sound of your heels clicking on the hard floor sure turned some heads and it was just your luck a drunk group of men were in one of the rooms to awaiting questioning. One of them leant against the door frame and wolf whistled, the other joined him and made some comment about how you looked but you didn’t give it any attention, Jay on the other hand couldn’t stop himself “Sit back down and shut the fuck up before I make you, we clear?” he slammed the door shut behind them but you kept walking.

“What are you really doing here Jay?” you question as you enter the room, holding the door open for him before walking over to your locker. You hear a loud thud as he shuts it behind the pair of you and leans his back against it, his knee bent as he picks off a bit of fluff from the thigh of his jeans “That dress new?” he asks, still not looking up at you and focusing on his jeans “You know it is, Voight only told the entire team that Trudy bought us outfits?” you huff as you fail to find any form of bag or purse that was intended for you to use. 

You begin to walk around to check other areas you had been within the room, the bathroom, the mirror but nothing seemed to jump out. Meanwhile, Jay was still stood leaning against the door and watching your every move intently “You gonna let me leave and do my job or?” you stand in front of Jay but he doesn’t budge. Instead he simply turns his nose up and shakes his head “Well then do something useful and help me put this necklace on” you hang the jewelry from your hand but he just stares at it “Or I’ll just do it myself then. Fuck sake” you mumble under your breath and walk back over to the mirror.

A few moments go by and it was no use, you couldn’t get the necklace on by yourself and Jay was still being as useless as ever and not moving to help, instead strolling over and sitting on one of the benches in the middle of the room. “Guess I’ll just get Adam to put it on for me, or Kevin. I’m sure they’d jump at the chance to help” you think aloud and strut past Jay who reaches up to catch your wrist before you can get any further “Come here then”.

He pulls you down onto his lap and you can feel his breath against the nape of your neck, a shiver run down your spine as he touches your skin and moves your hair to one side “Looking forward to being coupled with Adam? You look great together” he remarks and you roll your eyes at him for ruining what could’ve been one of your private moments that you were starting to crave. You stand from his grasp as he manages to fix the necklace round your neck and head for the door to leave but he is hot on your trail “Something bothering you?” you ask but Jay responds by looking down on you with that glint in his eye and mischievous smirk to try and divert your attention from how he is behaving “You don’t even have to say a word for me to know you’re lying if you say you don’t care" you chuckle but Jay isn’t amused. 

“Go and have fun, I’m sure I’ll have a great time watching the pair of you all over each other” he comments with gritted teeth “I’m sure we will have a blast, might even stick my tongue down his throat" you quickly add and curse yourself for not thinking before you speak “Go for it, gotta make it convincing” to your shock he agrees but the way his fists hang tight at his side and his nostrils are flared tell a whole different story “You really need to work on your lying skills detective”.

You can sense the rage running through him as the pair of you stand in silence, your eyes flick over to the clock and realise you’re meant to be leaving at any moment and they will be wondering where you are. You place your hand on Jay’s cheek and see him lean into your hand slightly, no matter how tense he is with you he can never stop himself from giving into your touch. “We best get going, I’ve got to see a man about a new boyfriend” you tease causing Jay to regain himself and straighten up “I dare you Y/N. I dare you to put on your little act as best you can because you know I’ll be watching and ready to remind you who you belong to when we’re alone” he threatens and you feel as though your legs could give way out of the weakness he causes you. You know him too well to know these weren’t empty threats and you were now set on going above and beyond to make him jealous “Enjoy the show, baby.”

***

Inbox and requests always open💃🏼

After popular demand, Part 2 to this is now up!

#jay halstead x reader #jay halstead #one chicago #chicago pd #chicago pd imagine #jay halstead drabble #jay halstead imagine #jay halstead smut #one chicago x reader #jay halstead x you #jesse lee soffer

[julemmaes]

Like I'm Drowning

Rowaelin Month, Day Twelve

A/N: Sorry about this, blame @thewayshedreamed, she's the one who wanted more angst.

This will have a fourth part, for obvious reasons;)

part one, part two

Word count: 3,874

It was two days after Aelin had left their home. It was about eleven o'clock in the evening when the walls of what had once been his favourite place had shaken with the force of Lorcan's fists on the front door, shouting at Rowan to let him in.

He had not answered.

He couldn't have done so even if he'd wanted to because his legs had stopped working and the muscles in his neck had been reduced to jelly over the last forty-eight hours, sip after sip of whatever alcohol he'd found in the cabinet.

He lay on the floor, his face in a pool of his own vomit, too heedless to care, too sore to move. In any case, he had stopped smelling the stench hours ago.

Another ten minutes had passed, in which his best friend had threatened over and over again to call the police if he didn't open the fucking door, before Lorcan had slammed his shoulder into it.

He hadn't been able to move in time when the door unhinged from the wall fell partially on him, hitting him in the head with one of the now splintered edges. He grunted in pain and could smell the blood as it began to trickle down his forehead, onto his nose, and he was relieved - he wasn't dead. Rowan had not been sure of it until that moment.

The other was there an instant later, taking the door off him, leaning it against the wall.

And the sharp breath he took was a dagger straight to Rowan's heart.

He didn't want him to see him like this.

He had never heard Lorcan's voice like that. So shocked, so worried. Whatever emotions he was feeling at the moment were blocking him from approaching him. Almost as if he was afraid of scaring him. Of breaking him more than he already was.

Rowan shook his head what he could, he didn't want him to see him like this. He didn't deserve his help.

"God, Rowan, what have you done?"

The relief at finding out he was still alive lasted a moment though, as the pain in his chest hit him so hard it took his breath away and he pulled himself up onto all fours before yet another wave of gags shook his body. He opened his mouth, hoping that this time something would come out, but he choked on nothing. His eyes filled with tears and Rowan wondered how that was possible.

There should have been nothing in his body.

He’d been in this conditions since the day before.

He felt a hand settle on his back, rubbing up and down as Lorcan tried to figure out what was going on, and his brain betrayed him, showing him images of a life he had taken for granted all along, from the second she had been his.

Him on the bathroom floor a few months earlier.

A box of somewhat-too-spicy Chinese food on their coffee table.

And Aelin.

Her hands on his back.

He shook off Lorcan's hand, "Don't touch me."

The words burned his throat and another gag went up his esophagus.

He stayed in that position for a few minutes, his back rising and falling frantically with each breath where he seemed to be unable to get enough air in.

"Rowan."

He didn't look at him. He couldn't.

"Rowan, you hear me?"

Lorcan ducked down, crouching beside him, reaching out to put a hand on his shoulder, but he seemed to remember what he'd just asked him not to do as soon as he gave him a startled look. If he touched him again, he didn't know what his broken mind would show him. He was terrified of it.

With a grimace, Lorcan clenched both hands into fists and took a deep breath, closing his eyes as the sour smell of vomit and what Rowan was ashamed to admit was his own piss reached his nostrils. When he opened them again there was a distinct determination in his gaze and Rowan had to pull his eyes back to the floor.

He thought he had found a sort of calm in which he might even be able to answer Lorcan's questions, but he was wrong. He was so wrong.

"What happened?”

“I feel-” he tried to speak, failing, “I feel like I’m drowing.”

“Why? What happened?” he asked again. And then the final hit, “Where's Aelin?"

There was no stopping the first sob. His vision went totally blurry, blackening everything in front of him until all he could see was the image of her, and his chest constricted to the point where breathing was no longer even an option. He fell to the side, against the wall, and there was no stopping the desperate crying that washed over him.

***

It was three days after Aelin had left their home. It was eight o'clock in the evening when Elide and Lorcan had asked him if he would like to go back there after leaving the hospital. It was twenty past eight when they had reached his street and he was counting down the seconds till he got to smell her perfume in the air again.

He had entered the house and tried not to breathe through his nose, realising he was not ready to remember what her scent was. He noticed how everything had been cleaned, tidied up or fixed and he didn't have the mental or physical trength to turn around, hug his friends and thank them.

He looked towards the kitchen, on the table. The letter was no longer there.

"Where is it?" he asked in a hoarse voice.

He hadn't spoken in the last few hours. Not to the couple he knew was staring at him from the doorway.

He'd been forced to answer questions from the doctors, from his coaches asking him how much time he needed. Lorcan had warned him that he'd lied for him, that he'd told them someone dear to them both had suffered a serious injury and died.

Rowan had looked at him and said a simple thank you while he lay on his hospital bed, despite knowing how much a fuckup of that magnitude risked not only his career, but Lorcan's as well.

It was Elide who had the courage to answer him, "What?"

"The letter."

"Oh." she whispered, "I put it in your room."

He nodded. Running a hand over his face he turned to them, noting how they both looked ready to launch themselves forward if they thought Rowan was going to crumble once more time.

He saw Lorcan clench his jaw and then look away before saying, "You won't find any alcohol, I threw away what was left."

Elide smiled at him with watery eyes, trying to change the subject as fast as possible, "If you need anything, you can always come to our place. You know that. We have-"

He interrupted her abruptly. He didn't look at her as he said in a harsh tone, "Thank you for everything, you can go now."

She took a sharp breath, nodding dryly and turning, hurrying out of the house. Lorcan followed her with his gaze the whole time, telling her he would join her in the car in a moment.

When he met Rowan's gaze again, the voice was the one he'd used all the years in high school when he'd been his captain. It gave no room for argument.

"I don't know what you're going through. I don't even want to begin to think about how painful it is to lose someone so important."

She didn’t die, he wanted to say. She left me.

I gave up on her. I don’t deserve her.

The steel mask Rowan was wearing seemed to be already starting to crack. He needed Lorcan to leave before he couldn't control his emotions.

He had already done too much for him.

He didn't deserve any of what they were offering him. He didn’t deserve anything.

"I can hardly imagine what I would do if I were in your position. If Elide-" he paused, closing his eyes. "I'm sorry, for what's happening. It's not easy, I understand, but whatever you're doing right now, it's not the solution. Treating me and Elide like this isn't going to drive us away, and before you tell me you don't need anything, let me just say that finding you lying in a pool of your own vomit completely hammered, out of your mind was one of the most horrifying things I've ever had to see." he took a step forward, placing a hand on Rowan's shoulder.

He had the instinct to pull away, but the grip on his jacket tightened, pinning him in place.

"I'm not letting you go, okay? I'm not going to let you throw away your career like this," he told him, looking him straight in the eye. "I'm not going to lecture you about what happened the other day. I know I would have done a lot worse, but you have to promise me that it won't happen again."

Lorcan's voice faltered at last and Rowan was surprised to see his eyes glaze over.

He nodded, his mouth slightly open, shocked at his friend's reaction.

"Promise me."

He hurried to whisper, "I promise."

Lorcan nodded, pulling Rowan to him and hugging him. He closed his eyes as the man in front of him held him together without even realising.

When they pulled away, they pretended not to hear the way they were sniffing, or the tears on both men's cheeks. They said a simple goodbye and then Rowan was alone.

Again.

He climbed the stairs slowly, walking like a dead man down the corridor filled with memories of him carrying Aelin in his arms on that very floor, and when he reached the door to their room, he hesitated.

He brushed against the knob, gripping it in his hand.

He stared at the wood in front of him and felt panic assail him.

Rowan turned on his heel, running for the stairs, the exit, hoping that Lorcan had not already left.

He threw open the door of the ghost-filled house and ran out, intent on never returning.

***

It was two weeks after Aelin left their home. Eleven days since he'd run away in a panic. Ten days since Lorcan had convinced Rowan to go back there, at least to pack up his things.

Nine days since Rowan had destroyed their room, screaming and sobbing as he tore the curtains from the windows and threw what little of her he had left against the wall.

Every ornament, every picture frame.

He'd screamed at Lorcan when he'd tried to stop it.

He hadn't succeeded. Rowan had razed their home to the ground, shattering every happy memory they had created over the years in those four walls.

Only when he'd found Aelin's ring had he stopped, bursting into tears so loud that the first sob had startled Lorcan, holding the small object to his chest.

They had gone back to Lorcan’s, and Elide had stood there looking at him with wide eyes, before running to get the first aid kit to clean the wounds Rowan had caused himself. More or less deep cuts, which his friends said should have been stitched up by actual doctors, but Rowan doubted they wouldn't lock him up in the psychiatric ward if he went to the emergency room for the sixth time in such a short time.

Especially if he came in with shards of glass between his fingers.

He hadn't kept his promise to Lorcan.

He'd drank again. He'd gotten into a couple of fights. He hadn't been back to the rink.

He hadn't skated in a fortnight. Longest period of his life off the ice.

But he couldn't do it.

He couldn't do anything. And it was all his fault.

***

It was three months and one day after Aelin had left their home. He had called Lysandra every day since Lorcan had forced him out of his and Elide's house, finding him a place right outside their team's arena. The woman had never given him any real answers, only reassuring him that Aelin was fine and that he should start moving on, too.

That too had broken something inside of him. The implications that Aelin had found someone else.

He couldn’t even bare being in the same room as another woman knowing they’d all be looking at him trying to get in his pants.

Aelin had always been the only one who wanted him for who he truly was, not his money. Not his status.

She had wished all those things gone so many times.

And she had left him.

He had let her go.

The team had sent a physiotherapist to his house every day for the first month, and then every week, accompanied by a shrink. Rowan had managed to drain them all. One after the other.

He was sure Lorcan had lost all hope too, but he continued undaunted to help him, going to his house every day after practice, without ever missing one day.

Rowan knew that Aelin had called him one night, almost a month before. Lorcan had told him, how she had begged him to tell her that he was alright, even though it wasn't true. His friend had also told him that she'd seemed to be drunk, and when she had hung up and both he and Elide had tried to call her back, Aelin had blocked their numbers.

From what he knew, she'd only unblocked Elide's, but she hadn't given him any kind of information about Aelin and he knew she'd never say anything.

He had hurt her - Elide. Rowan knew he'd treated her like little more than trash, both her and Lorcan, but however much he'd hurt her, it didn't seem to bother him in the slightest.

He should have felt something for his friends who had given him everything in the last period, but Rowan could not care less than what they had to go through for him.

Now he was waiting for Lorcan, sitting at the table, to show him he was alright. Putting on his daily show and reassuring his friend that everything was going great, he just wasn't ready to skate again yet. The other one would look at him, yell at him a few minutes before walking out of his miserably empty flat slamming the door.

Rowan was just waiting for the day when he wouldn't show up or when he would tell him he wasn't coming, saying goodbye one last time.

He knew it would happen, one way or another, and Rowan didn't know how to stop the mess that had become his life.

That day it wasn't Lorcan who entered his house, but someone else. Rowan opened the door and saw his agent, his team president, and his coaches, along with the athletic trainers.

They had given him an ultimatum.

Either you go back to slacking off after Christmas break or we break your contract, you're off the team and you lose lots of money.

The president had been particularly emphatic on the subject of money, but for Rowan that would be the least important thing.

It wasn't until the evening after New Year's Eve that he had made a decision.

Lysandra, whom he hadn't seen in person in more than two months, had entered his house looking like someone who hadn't slept in years. She had forced him out of bed, shouting at him to wash up, to clean his house. She had made it so Rowan couldn't talk back, never letting him speak, pushing him left and right.

She had taken him outside, something he hadn't done in weeks, so much so that the sun had hurt his eyes for the first two hours. She had forced him to buy new clothes and all the missing furniture in his house.

She had stayed with him for three days.

Three extremely long days in which she had swore at him, insulted him in every possible way imaginable by the human mind. They'd nearly come to blows when she'd touched a sore spot and Rowan had threatened to call Aedion to haul her away.

She'd dragged him to the party Fenrys had thrown for the New Year and for the first time in months, Rowan had smiled.

Elide had started crying when she'd seen him, Lorcan on the verge of tears as well. They had both hugged him and Rowan had begged for their forgiveness.

That night, Rowan thought things would be different for him for the first time.

He'd been wrong.

Again.

***

It was four years and twenty-seven days after Aelin had left their home. Four years since he had received no news of her. Three years since he stopped asking.

Rowan had been zapping through channels for so many hours now that the glaring light of the TV didn't even bother him anymore. His eyes were slightly glazed over as he stared at the screen, not really looking at the images in front of him. He caught a glimpse of a sentence here and there, ignoring the constant tinkle coming from his phone that warned him that Lorcan still didn't give up on talking to him every day from the moment he woke up to the moment he went to sleep. Even when he was on holiday with his now wife.

They had won yet another cup. The third win in a row.

Sometimes Rowan could hardly believe it.

Three Stanley Cups.

On his dream team.

He should have been excited. No, not excited.

He should have been the happiest man on earth. He should have been out celebrating with his teammates, vacationing on a tropical beach like Lorcan was doing, surrounding himself with girls ready to offer him anything to spend even just one night with him.

But Rowan didn't want to.

Rowan felt nothing – he had not felt anything in the last few years of his life. How did he expect to start now? For a measly win.

He hated hockey. He hated the sport. Hated the fans, his teammates.

He hated his life.

He was about to turn off the TV, confident that he would be able to sleep tonight without the help of the meds the team kept giving him to keep him from collapsing during the games, when his finger froze on the remote.

He didn't know what he was watching, but it seemed to be a channel about gossip, and Rowan felt a pang of anger well up in his chest. It seemed to be the only emotion he still felt from time to time.

Shocked and pissed that someone had felt the need to devote an entire channel to minding other people's business, he stood up, ready to pass out in his cold bed, when the words of the man on the screen stopped him in his tracks.

"And now to the latest news, straight from the social of the Toronto Maple Leafs' rookie player, Chaol Westfall, who has announced his marriage to the stunningly beautiful girlfriend, Aelin Galathynius. She has never been very active on social media, in fact, for somebody with such a charm, she'd be perfect in the role of influencer, but-"

Rowan stopped hearing.

He felt his body's reaction in time, and rushing to the kitchen, he managed to get everything his body was rejecting in the sink. He heaved in there till the last bit of what he’d eaten a few hours ago.

His heart was racing and he had to grip the counter to keep from kneeling on the floor.

That couldn’t be true.

Aelin was getting married.

Aelin was getting married to an hockey player.

The anger blinded him as her words flashed before his eyes.

I can’t do this anymore.

I’m weak. I’m so tired.

This isn’t the life I wanted for us.

I wish I could be your “’till death do us apart”, but I can’t.

The sound that came out of him was not human as he ran to his room and snatched the ring from the drawer next to his bed, the letter that just went wherever he went and raced out of the flat that never felt his own anyway.

***

It was four years and thirty days after Aelin had left their home.

Rowan stood in front of the journalists. Everyone was gaping at him, his teammates on the sidelines were looking his way as if he’d grown three heads.

And he couldn’t blame them, but he had needed to do this a long time ago.

He’d talked to his agents, the team’s president, everyone he had needed to to make this happen and he hadn’t felt such freedom in so long.

The questions just kept on coming and coming and he couldn’t distinguish the words. But he didn’t care.

He only needed to make this statement in front of everyone.

“I’m aware that leaving this team right now is a foolish and completely insane idea, but this world has taken too much from me already. My contract with the Senators ended with this season and I know everyone was expecting me to say which team I’m heading off to, but I’m quitting.

“I should have done this a long time ago and I’m sure the person this is for won’t even see this interview, but I love someone who thought she wasn’t enough for me. She told me four years ago her love wasn’t enough. I’m leaving cause hockey has not been a source of happiness in a very long time and it ruined everything good I ever had.

“I thought I loved playing cause of the adrenaline. The pride in a win. The chills when you score. But no, it wasn't that.”

I loved seeing her smile whenever I scored for her. The way she used to put medications on my wounds and bruises whenever I got hit too hard. Or the way we used to get all cuddled up after a long flight, after weeks of not seeing each other. I loved how my jerseys fit her – the way my clothes fit her.

He turned to his teammates, the people he owned a lot but couldn’t bring himself to care enough of to stay with them, “Being on this team would only make it worse. I’m sorry guys, I hope you can understand. This isn’t what I want right now.”

And right before he could get off the stage that had been set up for him, someone screamed from the crown.

“What are you going to do now?”

He didn’t stop to reply, avoiding everyone’s gazes and keeping on walking until he reached the exit of the arena. The chill air hit him hard as he went out on the street and got on the car.

This was the last time he’d be able to use one of the team’s cars.

The driver looked at him in the mirror, “Where to?”

“The airport, please.”

The man nodded and started the engine and Rowan felt something he hadn’t felt in years.

Hope.

Now, I’m going to get her.

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