#life's been kicking my ass for the last month-ish

[swervesbar]

can we see your sp[ider

Sure thing buddy! :D Here's my favorite picture of her eating a waxworm like it's a giant hotdog

#not tf #spider #arachnophobia warning #im sorry it took me ten million years to respond #life's been kicking my ass for the last month-ish #yarn passed away last month is actually one of the reasons why its been tough #but hey. she lived a really good long spider life

[jobean12-blog]

Had to be You

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x female reader (enemies to lovers ish)

Word Count: 2,270

Summary: You and Bucky have been going at each other for months. He's grumpy and defensive. You're sassy and frustrated. Steve's had enough. So when Steve steps in to do something will it work? Or will it makes things worse?

Author's Note: At this point all I want is for Bucky to kiss me senseless for the rest of my life (and do everything else) but really. Kisses. Yes please. Anyway. Thank you so much for reading! Much love always! ❤️❤️❤️Divider by the lovely @firefly-graphics thank you Daisy! 🥰

Warnings: some light mead comsumption, angsty ex talk, tension but softness, happy ending

“STEVEN GRANT ROGERS! You get back here right now and open this door before I kick your ass!”

Steve’s chuckle only makes you angrier. “I’ll open it when you two make nice.”

“STEVE!” you screech.

His retreating footsteps have you banging your forehead into the thick metal of the door, muttering curses under your breath.

“Please tell me Stark has some hidden exit in here somewhere?” you sigh.

“I’m going to kill Steve.”

When Bucky’s speaks his first words since you got locked in the gym together you spin to face him, eyes hard.

“Get in line Barnes!”

“Hey, look at that kids, you’re agreeing already!” Steve’s voice rings out from down the hall.

With that last remark everything goes silent other than your frustrated huffs.

“Is this actually happening?” you whine. “Can’t you just break the door down?”

Bucky’s blue eyes stare blankly and you grow more agitated.

“Why the hell did he do this?”

You glare back in his direction, hands on your hips. “Because of your sunshine and rainbows attitude toward me!”

You spit out the words, letting them drip with sarcasm.

“MY attitude?” Bucky grits out as he sticks a finger in his chest. “Doll face. I’ve been nothing but a perfect gentleman to you.” That same finger spins to point at you now.

You face him fully and take a step closer.

“Grunts do not equal a greeting and barely answering questions and barely making conversation definitely does not show your gentlemanly side!”

Bucky opens his mouth to retort but you continue on. “And what about avoiding me all together!? What the fuck is that about?”

He runs his large hand through his hair and squeezes the back of his neck, setting his lips in a hard line.

“Fuck. Please tell me there’s still some of Thor’s mead in here,” he mutters.

“Why the hell would he leave alcohol in the gym?” you ask, your brows nearly hitting your hairline.

With a shrug Bucky starts moving about and searching under things. “He likes to ‘get drunk’” and he makes air quotes as he says it, “and then show us how he can still lift heavier weights.”

You can’t help the laughter that boils up and over but you quickly cover your mouth when Bucky gives you an unamused look.

“Here it is!” he chimes, seeming far too relieved.

You move toward him as you watch him take a swig from the bottle, the muscles in his neck shifting with every swallow.

“Save some for me,” you say quietly and hold out your hand.

He smirks.

“Careful doll. Too much of this and I’ll have to carry you out of here.”

As more of the mead circulates through your body you start to relax marginally, thoughts of killing Steve slowly fading.

Bucky has been sure to keep your consumption under control and other than feeling less murderous and calmer you’re lucid.

“So,” you muse. “It doesn’t look like Steve is coming back any time soon. And we’ve been quiet. No yelling or fighting.”

Bucky simply grunts in agreement.

“SEE!” you nearly shout. “That’s exactly what I mean. I say something and your answer is a grunt…WHAT. THE. FUCK!”

While waiting for his explanation you notice a slight pink flush to his cheeks and you find it hard not to throw him a triumphant smile.

Deciding to let him off the hook for now, you ask, “how long have you known your best friend is insane?”

To your surprise, Bucky laughs. A real laugh that has his eyes crinkling and his nose scrunching up.

You try not to stare too long but you find it difficult to look away.

“Are you drunk Barnes?”

His eyes meet yours and the corner of his mouth twitches with a boyish smile.

“You’re full of questions tonight doll. And for the record it takes a lot more than this to get me drunk,” he admits as his smile widens.

He shifts in his spot on the floor, his long legs now stretched out in front of him and you can’t help but focus on his thighs and the way his jeans pull tightly over the thick muscle.

“Who knew all we needed was a little alcohol to not fight.”

You chuckle and hold your hand out for the more.

He shakes his head no and places the bottle down on the floor before leaning forward.

“I don’t want to fight with you. Ever.”

At his admission, your expression hardens.

“Then why are you so….so… unfriendly?” you ask.

“Why are you always so sassy?” he shoots back. “Seems to me like you’re the one always looking for a fight.”

His answer makes you sigh.

“I don’t see you doing that to Barton or Steve…hell anyone else!” he adds.

He waits patiently, his eyes trained on you and his body straining forward.

With more nonchalance than you feel, you confess, “you’re kind of my type. And my dating track record sucks. So…you know…”

You motion to him. All of him. His long legs, broad shoulders, hard chest, sculpted arms and his perfectly handsome face.

Stunned, Bucky stares for a second too long and too fiercely.

Heat starts to tickle your skin as you feel your body react to his focused attention.

“Are you…” he starts, before clearing his throat. “Are you telling me that you’re attracted to me and that’s why you hate me?”

The tension is thick, stretching between you for many long seconds before you wrench your eyes away and look down at your hands.

“I don’t hate you.”

Your words are quiet and the next sentence that passes your lips is even softer. “I just have a hard time trusting men.”

When he doesn’t say anything you look up at him and see the hurt etched across his features.

“Are you sure it’s not just me you don’t trust?”

At his question, the realization of what he’s implying hits you and you immediately slide closer to him and reach your hands toward him.

“No Bucky. That’s not it at all. In fact I trust you with my life…just not necessarily my heart.”

When he continues to study you, his features softening, but doesn’t speak, you add. “It’s not your fault. Really.”

“I want to know why.”

“Why what?” you ask.

“Why you don’t trust men.”

His jaw is tight and his fists are clenched in his lap.

He’s clearly distraught over the fact that you’ve been hurt and you’re sure he’s thinking the worst. It melts you more and you want to reach out and trace the hard line of his jaw to reassure him.

“It’s not anything that bad. I’ve just been hurt. A lot. And not just in romantic relationships. Friendships too.”

He scowls. “In what ways?”

You shrug like it’s nothing.

“What is there to say? The first real relationship I was in ended when he found something better. He told me when we broke up, ‘why would I say with you when I can do better’.”

“That motherfucker,” Bucky fumes as he opens and closes his metal fist, the whirring metal sounds momentarily distracting you.

“Yeah. But that wasn’t the last. My boyfriend after that I found out was sleeping with my friend. Or I thought she was my friend.”

“Fucking hell. Please tell me you’re kidding.”

He stands slowly, visibly agitated.

“And we haven’t even gotten to my last boyfriend yet. Better sit back down.”

“I’m too fucking pissed off to sit,” he growls.

“Honestly, it’s more my fault. I knew I shouldn’t have dated him. He was just like the rest and when my friend sent me a video of the two of them fucking I was hardly surprised.”

You couldn’t look at Bucky anymore and you dropped your eyes.

“Guess I’m just not good enough to stick around for.”

“Fuck,” he exhaled. “Doll.”

He sat down in front of you, forcing your attention back to him.

“Please don’t tell me you really believe that.”

You give him an exasperated look. “After being dumped three times you kind of start to believe it.”

Suddenly, he kicks at one of the weight machines, making the metal creak and bend then he falls to his knees in front of you and takes your hands in his.

The smell of him surrounds you and you have no where to look but into his eyes.

“These men,” and he spits out the last word. “Fuck that, they aren’t men. These pieces of shit have no idea what a gift you are and they don’t deserve you. They deserve a fucking beating.”

“Bucky.”

You squeeze his hands. “Don’t.”

“Don’t what?” he counters. “Tell you the truth? Tell you that you’re gorgeous, sexy, smart, and kind.”

His eyes drop to your mouth and he licks his lips.

“Hardly kind,” you scoff. “Look how poorly I treated you.”

He reluctantly drags his eyes from your mouth and determination hardens his gaze.

“Nah doll face. I get it now. And honestly, a lot of that is on me. I couldn’t understand why someone as perfect as you wanted anything to do with me. I put up my defensives the only way I know how.”

You whisper his name hoarsely and run your thumb along his jawline.

His eyelashes flutter against his cheeks and he exhales.

Even if you wanted to you couldn’t stop the way your body moved closer to his and when he slides his hand up your arm and around the back of your neck your lips part in a gasp.

Just as you feel his warm breath tickle your skin the lock on the door turns and Steve calls your names.

You quickly pull away with wide eyes, shooting one last look at Bucky before you lift your eyes to Steve.

He stares between the two of you and then at the half empty bottle of mead.

“What…?”

“Nothing,” you and Bucky say at the same time.

Bucky jumps to his feet and holds his hand out for you.

You take it and let him pull you up and into his body. Your chest brushes his with your every breath and you’re right back where you were just seconds ago…under his spell.

It only takes a moment for your past hurt to flood back and wash away the desire you’re feeling and in the next breath you’re mumbling goodbyes and rushing off.

When Bucky finally finds you the next day the apology you’ve been wanting to give him spills out.

“I just want to say that I’m sorry for how I’ve been acting.”

He takes a step closer to you, crowding you against the door of your room.

“I really appreciate that doll, but I should be the one apologizing to you. I’m sorry. For everything.”

“Thank you.”

It’s all you can manage to say with him so close to you.

You can feel your pulse jump and when you hear the moving metal plates in his arm you look down at his hands to see them clenched into fists at his sides.

“Bucky?” you ask.

“I’m having a really hard time not touching you,” he explains in a pained whisper.

“Oh,” you breathe out.

He closes the space between you and your back hits the door. He slowly lifts his hand, caressing your cheek with his thumb and then slowly sliding his fingers down to stroke your neck.

The gentle dominance in his touch sets you on fire and you lean into him.

“I’m scared of getting hurt Bucky.”

The words tumble out and you start to drop your gaze but he stops you with the press of his fingers under your chin.

His eyes harden and he doesn’t speak.

You whisper his name, your voice shaky.

“I’m sorry,” he says. “I’m just talking myself out of hunting every one of your exes down and skinning them alive.”

His voice grows with anger and you press a soft hand to his hard chest.

“They aren’t worth it.”

“You’re worth it.”

Taken aback by the intensity of his words you stare into his eyes, their blue color filled with longing and fierceness.

“Fuck doll. You have no idea how fucking gorgeous you are, do you? I can hardly catch my breath.”

Your hand shoots to your mouth and you quietly inhale, nibbling your bottom lip to stop the smile that wants to break out across your face.

“Do you want me to go?” he asks.

You drop your hand from your lips and reach for him. “No.”

He tilts his head and inches closer, his mouth lightly brushing yours.

Your fists clench the front of his Henley and your eyes close at the light press of his lips. You stay like that, trying to remember to breathe.

He pulls away only enough to stare at your mouth and then traces his thumb across your upper lip.

“What is it?” you ask with a worried tone.

His thumb falls to your lower lip and he gives it the same attention, savoring the softness.

“Why won’t you kiss me?”

He drops his hand from your lips and as his fingers fall they trace the outline of your neck before his hand wraps around the back of it and he brings you impossibly closer.

“I’m worried that once I start…” he breathes against your lips. “I won’t be able to stop.”

When he presses his lips to yours he groans low in the back of his throat, his hands desperate to get you closer.

The way you taste, the feel of your lips, your gasps and moans…he can’t stop.

He can’t stop.

@hiddles-rose @randomfandompenguin @kmc1989 @goldylions @blackwidownat2814 @buckysdollforlife @littleseasiren @lizette50

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes imagine #bucky x reader #enemies to lovers #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan #bucky

[gnpwdrnwhiskey]

Late Nights & Love Stories

Pairing- Jack Daniels x f!reader SunDrop

Word Count- 1.4k-ish

Warnings- my normal sap & cheese & mushy silliness. some angst I guess, Sunny's been having A DAY. mentions of death. not smutty, but maybe smutty-ish for a second there, lol. reader has an established nickname but no mentions of physical characteristics.

Author's Note- for anyone keeping track, this takes place two weeks after New in Town. Also, I'm taking liberty with Jack's full name, lol. Big ass thanks to @wildemaven for listening to me babble about this forever and helping me pull it all together. 💕

You held out for two weeks. Two long torturous weeks of Jack stopping by the bakery every morning, charming every woman he comes in contact with on his way to the counter to place his breakfast order and remind you he's just waiting on you to say yes.

Two weeks.

It's longer than you made him wait for anything the first time around. But the circumstances were different then, it was temporary, you were never supposed to see him again after your assignment. This time the stakes are much higher.

So now it's two weeks (and one day) and you've had your steak (and lobster), he's filled you in on what happened in his life in the last six months (a whole hell of a lot), and then he walked you back to the little apartment above the bakery you've been staying at since you've been home.....

.....and then he just left.

You should probably go back upstairs, try to get at least a few hours sleep. Instead you decide to take a walk. And you can lie to yourself all you want about where you're going but you and the devil on your shoulder egging you on know exactly where you're headed.

And you've been going bat shit stir-crazy ever since. You've taken a shower, you've put on your favorite pajamas, you've called Ginger for a much needed catch-up (um, hello new Agent Whiskey, congrats on the promotion you didn't tell me about!), changed back into street clothes, gone down to the bakery and prepped what you could for Maddie in the morning and you're still not settled.

Jack opens the hotel door in a white tee and a pair of gray flannel pajama pants you already know are so incredibly soft to the touch, it makes your fingers itch with want.

"Sunny?" His hair is a mess and he's blinking bleary-eyed at you and it's obvious at least one of you was able to sleep tonight. "It's like 2am. You okay?"

"You didn't kiss me."

"What?"

"On our first date, you walked me home and you kissed me. Tonight, you didn't kiss me."

"I wasn't too sure that option was on the table, seein’ as how you made me do quite a bit of begging just for a date, sweetheart and...."

"Jesus Christ, Jack, shut up and kiss me."

"Yes, ma'am."

And oh God it's better than you remembered, better than a kiss has any right to be, and you immediately feel all that restless energy you've been carrying around all night start to shift- desire laced with something else, something darker, something needier- as he pulls you close and molds your body to his, one large hand splayed on your lower back, your hands tangled in his hair.

He tastes like sleep and cigarettes and it should be off-putting but you don't care, you don't care, you don't care. You're lost in him- his mouth, his hands, his warmth- and it's too much and it's not enough.

You're vaguely aware of him kicking the door closed and pressing your back against it and Christ, that's a dangerous idea because you've been in this situation before and you know exactly where it leads and the one rational brain cell left in your head is screaming at you that this isn't what you came here for but that doesn't stop you from rolling your hips into his, trying to get closer, to feel that friction, to feel anything besides the gnawing desperation that's been eating at you all night.

Jack's no stranger to one night stands- the frantic rush, the all-consuming desire- but even as you lick into his mouth and grind against him, even as he grabs the back of your thighs and lifts you up so you can wrap your legs around him, even as he flashes back to taking you like this before- quick and dirty against the door in his office in New York during the middle of the day, even as he delights in the sounds he's pulling from your throat, he knows this isn't the route he wants to take with you this time around so he breaks away with one last soft kiss that you try to turn into something more.

"Hey, whoa, easy there, SunDrop," he whispers as he slowly lowers you back to your feet.

"Christ, Jack, I'm not a friggin horse," you mutter.

"Aww, honey, don't sell yourself short," he grins. "You're about the prettiest filly I ever did see. 'Bout as skittish sometimes too."

"That was horrible, you're horrible. Why do I even like you?" you laugh.

Or you mean to laugh but it's more like a sob. You're not really sure where that came from except he really did throw a lot at you at dinner tonight- including the fact that he kinda sorta almost died. And maybe it's just hitting you now, that he could've been gone and you never would've known.

And then you're burying your head in his chest and fisting your hands in his tee and crying in earnest.

"Shhh, sweetheart, it's okay. Whatever it is, it's okay," Jack manages to scoop you up and carry you over to the bed, sitting down and cradling you on his lap. "What's with all the waterworks, Sunny? Talk to me."

"You died," you sniffle, bringing one hand up to trace lightly over the star-shaped scar at his temple. "You died and I didn't even know."

"Just for a little bit, sugar," Jack laughs softly. "Ginger brought me back good as new."

"Jackson Lee Daniels. It's not funny."

"No, ma'am, it certainly is not. I do not recommend it. Worst headache I've ever had in my life."

"And yet you're still making light of it," you mumble, crawling off of him to lean against the headboard.

"We all have our coping mechanisms, sweetheart." Jack sighs, moving to sit next to you and pull you close. "I got one more story to tell you if you think you can handle another one right now."

"Not if it's about you dying."

"No, sugar, it's about what happened after. Maybe it'll put your mind at ease some." He feels you nod your head against his shoulder and takes a deep breath before he continues.

"See, there's understandably some memory loss when you come back and I made a damn fool of myself hitting on Ginger before she flashed this old polaroid of my wife at me, and there was this blinding rush of memories- everything came back to me, all the pain and anger over everything I'd lost and I was more determined than ever to rush off and stop those Kingsman fellas."

"I was spouting a bunch of nonsense but Ginger, God bless her clever heart, grabbed my arm and said 'one more thing, Jack' and then she showed me a picture of you, SunnyD. And there was another rush of memories, good ones- laughing with you in the kitchen, dancing in the living room at the cabin, gasping my name as you came apart underneath me the first time we made love."

"And I realized this was a chance to start over, to let go of all that hurt and anger and build a new life. With you, if you'd have me. You saved me, honey, you and Ginger both did."

You're quiet for so long, Jack's starting to think you've fallen asleep. "Sweetheart, you still with me?"

"Yep. So, what you're telling me is like in a sense, I totally helped save the world?" You say as you sit up on your heels to look at him, hands clasped to your chest and batting your eyelashes. "Because you loooovvveeee me!"

"That's what you took from all that?" Jack laughs. "I just poured my heart out and that's all you got?"

"No," you wave a dismissive hand. "I mean I'm still processing, okay? It's been a long day. Full of surprises. So many surprises. But- I am glad you're alive and you're here and I maybe kinda probably love you too."

"Fine, you keep processing. But ya know, sunshine, I never actually said I loved you."

"Oh, but it's totally implied in the huge, world saving heroic gesture, cowboy. You totally love me, like head over heels stupid in love...."

"Hey, Sunny?" Jack asks, reaching out to pull you back into his arms. "Shut up and kiss me."

"Yes, sir."

#agent jack whiskey daniels #agent whiskey x female reader #agent whiskey fanfiction #jack whiskey daniels #jack daniels x female reader #jack daniels fanfic #pedro pascal character fanfiction #jack x sundrop universe

[euphoricfilter]

Devil That I Know (Part 4)

~ At the end of the crossroad

Pairing: Demon! Jungkook x Human! Reader

Genre: (Inaccurate) Historical AU || Strangers to lovers AU || Supernatural AU || Smut || Fluff || Angst

Summary: Picking which road to go down is easy when you think about how alone you would be without Jungkook, even if he hadn't been the most honest with you from the start.

Word count: 9k

Tags/ warnings: angst, fluffy-ish, minor mention of blood, self deprecation, more lying, soft yandere kook, mentions of murder/ killing, definitely probably an unhealthy relationship, too much talking about dates it's slightly confusing me thinks that is all

Notes: after a two month hiatus i have returned to my favorite child, i don’t really have an excuse except i’m ass at multitasking and shouldn’t have started a second series basically right after starting this one, so i recommend maybe going back and re-reading the last chapter like i had to unless you have sexy good memory

my full masterlist

series masterlist

part 5

+++

(Year 1865)

“Are you still mad?”

“Of course I’m mad Jungkook” you look at him in disbelief, “What if they had been thorough in their search? What if they found out you were the one who killed that man? Are you stupid?”

Jungkook swallows thickly, bottom lip jutting out into a pout as you berate him. He was more upset that you seemed genuinely angry with him that the possible consequences of getting caught because he couldn’t keep his anger in line. It wasn’t his fault the seedy old man had touched you without consent, what was he meant to do?  Let the man go? That would go against all his morals and values.

“I told you it wasn’t me” he gently grabs your hands, his thumbs running over your palms. He looks down, eyebrows furrowing as a sad pout moulds onto his face, surely you couldn’t be angry at him when he looked so upset!

You look at him with a deadpan look, pulling your hands from his own. Because even if Jeon Jungkook looked like a kicked puppy, you weren’t about to forget the crime he had committed. And you would make it clear that if you were carry on knowing each other then he wasn’t allowed to go around killing men or women. Or anyone for that matter whatever they identified as. No killing.

By some miracle you’d made it out of the village without any other issues; you’d been so scared when you’d been stopped at the gate, convinced your life was truly over when it had hardly even begun. Turns out the men couldn’t care less about the murder, forced into the job last minute by the head of the village because no one had volunteered, simply asking the three of you to step away from the wagon so they could take a look for anything suspicious.

It seemed the man who had harassed you hadn’t been liked by many, the chief of the village only going ahead with protocol to appease his higher up in the capital so he himself wouldn’t be arrested.

They hadn’t even looked into any bags, their eyes skimming over what you were carrying, mindless hums passing through their lips as they prodded a bag or two, giving the three of you a curt nod and wishing you luck on your travels.

You’d thanked them, not missing the way their eyes had lingered at your chest as you climbed back into the back of the wagon; and it took all your will power not to kick them where the sun doesn’t shine. Namjoon seemed to share your anxiety, the way his shoulders had stayed tense until you were far enough from the village a clear sign, he had shared your sentiment. Only relaxing slightly once far enough to be considered safe.

You didn’t blame him. Felt a little sorry if anything.

It wasn’t every day that you have to travel with two complete strangers. One a four-armed demon who had arguably (definitely had) twisted morals, who was stubborn beyond belief sometimes and a foreigner who may still be wanted dead by the royal family because they believed you were a spy. (Something you will soon find out is a law that was demolished 6 years ago along with the fact there was a new king)

“Now you must think I’m stupid” you shake your head, “what other demon would have been in that small village?”

“Probably a lot” Jungkook argues, “I’m not the only demon and you know that”

You release a heavy sigh, fingers coming up to pinch the bridge of your nose, “No killing people, okay? It’s not right”

“I would never” Jungkook says, lie easily slipping through his cushiony lips. Anything to appease you.

You make eye contact with him, searching for something behind his onyx eyes, only to find nothing. He didn’t seem to be lying, Jungkook had no reason to lie to you. Maybe it was a little naïve of you to believe that Jungkook could do no wrong; maybe you were biased because he’d only ever shown you kindness. He treated you as an equal, not some house maid that had to cook and clean all day, nothing more than a tool for him to boss around to feed into some fucked up superiority complex. You’d liked to believe Jungkook was as honest with you as you are with him, and it felt easy to read him, like he wore his heart on his sleeve and if he were to ever lie, you’d know.

“Okay, I believe you” you whisper, heartrate picking up as he smiles down at you so brightly. How could someone so kind kill a man? Sure, he threatened Namjoon here and there but you saw where your demon friend was coming from, the world was a shitty place and not everyone can be trusted.

Namjoon clearing his throat catches your attention, “We’re almost at the capital” he informs.

You look up at the sky, full moon hanging high above the three of you, illuminating the path for Namjoon as he meanders down the dirt road towards the large gates of the capital.

You peek over the walls of the wagon, lips quirking into an excited smile as you catch the faint silhouette of a few high-rise buildings. It was hard to see in the silver glow of the moonlight, but you imagine it looked exactly how Taehyung had described it in his notebook. Tomorrow you’d have to take a look over his notes again and plan out how you’d spend the next three days here with Jungkook.

You turn your head to look at said demon as he snakes his arm over your shoulders, his eyes trained on the path ahead, his own smile quirking onto his lips.

“If it looks this beautiful in the moonlight it must be ethereal during the day” you tell him, smile widening when he turns his head to look at you.

Your eyes close briefly when he leans forwards, a gentle kiss being pressed between your eyebrows.

“Yes, but nothing will ever match your beauty” he murmurs against your skin, your eyebrows furrowing at the ticklish feeling.  

You let out an unattractive scoff, pushing his arm from your shoulder as you sit back down, view of the capital being obscured by the walls of the wagon. Jungkook sits back too, a knowing smile on his face as he starts packing up both of your things into his backpack.

He just adored how shy you could be something, and he didn’t mind playing your little games if it meant he could see the strawberry pink flush of your cheeks, illuminated by the silver moonlight.

Jungkook wishes he could engrave this moment into his mind. You always had looked like a fairy in the cool glow beneath the moon, so undeniably beautiful he wanted to keep you all to himself. No one in this world deserving enough to see you looking so delicate, no one but himself. He find it hard to keep his hands to himself, wanting to caress your soft skin, kiss every inch of your body until you understand its beauty, maybe leave a love bite or two so you’ll remember him even when not together. He wonders if you’d trace the sensitive skin, pressing on it just to feel the dull ache, or if you would leave them out in the open for anyone else to see; a sign that you’re taken.

The rest of the night went by in a blur, entering the capital was easier than you had initially assumed it to be, you believe because it was so late into the night the guards were laxer than they would be during the day. It didn’t seem to be common for visitors to arrive so late, the three of you the only ones waiting for the gate to be opened, what lay beyond the walls silent, everyone having gone to bed or closed their shops until sunrise.

A guard had recognised Namjoon, more than happy to hurry up the process of getting you into a decent inn so you wouldn’t have to camp out in the wagon until morning; understanding your backs must ache and eye weary from a long day of travel.

The woman at the front of the inn was more than happy to house the three of you for the next few days, a beautiful smile on her face as she handed Namjoon and Jungkook a key. She’d then turned to you, assuring you that you were more than welcome to come and sit in the bar area downstairs and embroider with her during the day, she was having trouble with a project and would be extremely happy if you were to help out at some point.

You’d eagerly nodded, smile so wide your cheeks had started to hurt. No one had ever wanted you to help them with their embroidery before!

She reminded you of the mother you’d never had, something so soft and warm about her that you couldn’t help but say yes to everything she was saying. You’d have to sit with her at breakfast and ask her what the capital was really like, and maybe she could even look through Taehyung’s diary with you and make a plan to make the most of your three days in the capital.

“Good night” you wave to Namjoon as he unlocks the door to his own room adjacent from yours and Jungkook’s.

Namjoon waves back, dimpled smile making a brief appearance before he scuttles back into his room, door being locked from the inside.

Jungkook pulls out a pair of pyjamas for you to wear, throwing them onto the bed as you flop onto the mattress.

“Get changed before you sleep, pretty” he reminds you, smiling when you reply, muffled by your head being stuffed into the layers of silky blankets on the bed. Though he assumes it must be something along the lines of ‘can’t be bothered’ to ‘in a minute, kook’

He rummages through his bag, trying to find his own sleep clothes (he liked to pretend to sleep beside you even if his body didn’t need it like yours did, something so blissfully domestic about laying beside you, your calm breath a beautiful symphony in the dead of night), however his focus is trained on you. The slow raise and fall of your body as you just lay there, unmoving, exhausted.

He tuts, abandoning his task as he pushes himself up from the floor, sauntering over towards you with purpose in his steps.

You let out a surprised squeak when his first pair of arms snakes around your waist, easily lifting you to sit up.

“Come on” he encourages, one of his arms stretching to grab your discarded clothes, placing them in your lap.

“But ‘m sleepy kookie” you whine, falling back onto the mattress with a dramatic sigh.

Jungkook, amused, lifts you up again, this time by pulling you up from under your arms, like one would a baby. And maybe you were his baby, the most precious little thing in his life. Truthfully, he doesn’t mind moment like this, adores them actually. Each time you rely on him, he can prove to you that he is good enough to provide for you, and he can only hope that with small moments like these you were slowly falling in love with him. He knows you’d never love him as much as he loved you, that was impossible! No one could love anything as much as he absolutely worships your very being, but he believes one day you’ll love him. He believes you already do, why else would you have stuck around for so long? He just knows you’re a little shy and being the considerate person that he is, he’ll wait a little longer before he tells you his master plan. Surely you’d be thrilled.

The perfect plan to keep the two of you together for the rest of time. Even thinking about it makes his cheeks burn, dusted a light pink, like the sunsets that you like to watch each evening while he reads you passages of his favourite books, maybe even feeding you a slice of fruit between pages just to make sure you’re not hungry before bed.

You don’t complain as he easily slips your shirt from your head, sighing in bliss as he kisses your bare shoulders before helping you put one of your sleep shirts on. He does the same with your pants, placing a feather light kiss to your ankle as he helps you change. Fingers skimming your pretty skin, he has to stop himself more than once from running his tongue along the expanse of it, wanting to relish the feeling of you in as many ways possible.

Once done, he leaves you to flop back on the bed, reminding him of a sleepy floppy bunny, as he lifts a few of the blankets, before lifting you to tuck you into bed; something had seemed to be a routine at this point. He wouldn’t be able to count on his four hands the number of times he’d been able to tuck you into his bed, safe from the world, if only for a night.

“Thank you” you whisper, voice laced with sleep.

Jungkook brushes your hair from your face, deftly tucking it behind your ears.

“Anything for you” he whispers back, a fond smile on his face.

He waits until you’re asleep, carefully slipping from the bed, trying his best not to wake you because he knew you were a light sleeper. Rummaging through his bag he bites his lip as he pulls a map from one of the pockets. Trying his best to stay silent, as unrolls the paper, humming to himself as he scans the map, finger tracing the library he needed to visit. He wondered if books were more expensive in the capital, Taehyung would usually collect the ones he wanted, and it was easier to give his friend a few coins each month and whatever was left, Taehyung could keep. Jungkook never had much care for money anyways.  

He nods in thought, turning towards the bag once more, praying to the devil down below that he had enough for the specific book he wanted, no… needed.

He rummages around until he finds the small pouch of money. Opening the drawer strings, he cringes at how much the two of you had left. Saving had started to get harder over the last few years. After the new king had risen to power and demons had become public enemy number one, the villagers hadn’t been as generous with putting their coins into shrines.

And Jungkook was now facing the consequences.

His whole life he had relied on the money humans would leave at his shrine, it was easy to live off, even after you’d started living with himself and Taehyung, the donations were generous enough he never had to worry about money for food, clothes or books, but looking now, money was starting to become an issue.

He wouldn’t tell you this of course. He couldn’t have you worrying, he couldn’t let your pretty little head come up with a stupid idea (like leaving him), just because the two of you had to be a little frugal with your money until he figured out a way to earn a decent living once again.

Maybe he could sell Taehyung’s art, it wouldn’t sell for a lot, Taehyung was by no means a well-respected painter, that is why he had struggled for years before he’d met Jungkook. But that didn’t mean his art was worthless, they would have to at least sell for a couple of pennies a piece.

Jungkook thinks you wouldn’t be happy if he were to sell Taehyung’s art. You adored it, having spent hours a day letting Taehyung teach you the basics of painting, and after finally getting a glimpse at his art, you’d stay hauled up in Taehyung’s room, connecting with him through his artwork even if he wasn’t physically with you anymore. You’d be crushed if any of the pieces were to disappear.

Maybe he could take a few of the smaller pieces? The ones you wouldn’t notice went missing, he just needed a way to earn a few extra coins. The last thing he needed was for you to starve. Or even worse, you to leave him because he can’t provide for the two of you. And if you were to find out, he could jut out his bottom lip, maybe even shed a tear or two until you forgave him, he’s sure you’d understand his struggle if he cried a little.

+++

Namjoon was suspicious.

He’d been thinking for a few days, ever since he’d spoken to you at the beach about the village in-front of the mountains and how you’d met Jungkook. It all seemed… off. Nothing was falling into place. Odd pieces of the puzzle that didn’t connect, or worse, that one puzzle piece that goes missing, impossible to find and so the picture will remain incomplete. Forever.

He had considered asking you a few more things about Jungkook but decided against it. Not only was Jungkook constantly glued to your side, the few times he strayed away from the two of you, he seemed to be lurking close by enough to be able to listen to your conversations. So, asking you was out of the question. For now.

And from what he had seen, you probably weren’t the best person to ask about the demon.

Sure, you lived with him, probably knew a lot more than you were letting on but either the demon was threatening you to not say anything, or you genuinely didn’t know all that much. Both seemed just as likely. Namjoon had been on the receiving end of Jungkook’s threats more than a few times during this trip and knew how scary he could be, but Jungkook was also extremely secretive. Like how he clearly didn’t want you know about what happened in the village 6 years ago.

Namjoon was also suspicious of the fact that you seemed to have forgotten a lot of what happened in your life over the last few months. By no means was he a doctor, he’d given up on that dream long ago, but nothing made sense. You seemed so confused, genuinely asking him for help, and no matter how hard he tried to think of ways your memories had disappeared, the conclusion always led back to Jungkook. Suspicious Jungkook who definitely had a few too many secrets.

And so, Namjoon had the bright idea to follow the demon to wherever he may be going instead of interrogating you back at the inn while you had breakfast with the nice front desk lady.

It wasn’t all that surprising when Jungkook walks into a library, the demon always had a book in his hands. And with how much he read, Namjoon wasn’t all that surprised he needed a new book so soon into the trip.

What alarmed Namjoon was the location of the library, hidden in the dark crevices of an alley way on the outskirts of the capital. A place you’d have to have known prior to the trip happening, either having visited this location before, or someone who knew of it telling him before the trip had begun. It was in too much of an obscure place to be any old library.

Namjoon waits for Jungkook to enter the building, his foot tapping against the cobblestone path for what felt like a minute before he decides that he should just go in.

It looked like any other library, shelves stacked up to the ceiling, books organised by category, clearly labelled with large wooden signs, hung on the end of each shelf. The young boy behind the front desk hadn’t bothered to look up at from his own book as Namjoon wanders inside. (If he had, Namjoon would have seen the third eye the boy had)

It’s fairly easy to spot Jungkook even among the tall bookshelves with his broad back and slightly suspicious looking navy cloak, Namjoon tries his best to stay a fair amount of distance between the two of them. He wondered how good Jungkook’s senses must be as a demon and the last thing he wanted right now was to get caught. That would be the end of him, and he promised his mother he would be home within a week.

The village boy slips to hide behind a nearby shelf once Jungkook stands down one of the isles, fingers lightly skimming over the spines of a few books. He peeks up at the wooden sign, checking what sort of book Jungkook could be looking for.

His eyebrows furrow. ‘Conversion theory’

In all his times spent at libraries he’d never seen that genre of book. And Namjoon, although his friends back at the village make fun of him, quite likes to read. He had taught himself how to, never having had gone and learnt from a scholar, but he liked to live the lives of other through the pages.

He himself was trapped in his mundane life on the farm, nothing more going for him. But he could adventure the globe through a book, learn the history of his land, picture what life beyond the vast sea must be like, and so much more, just from paper and ink.

He takes a look at another shelf, gulping when he reads the sign.

‘Demonic entities’

Namjoon has to slap a hand over his mouth as he looks around, finally taking a look at the library properly; completely forgetting he was here to see what Jungkook could be trying to find.

Mixed among the humans were other beings, just like Jungkook.

+++

You watch Jungkook shove an unfamiliar book into the backpack, “You bought a new book?” you ask absentmindedly, more focused on brushing the knots out of your wet hair. You felt like a brand-new person, freshly washed, smelling a little less like dried blood and sweat after the incident from the day before.

You’d washed your hands at the previous inn, but the stench of blood had lingered, even then you don’t know if that was your mind playing tricks on you. The wound still fresh as you think back on the good times with your pretty kitty.  

You wondered if you were okay, feeling so numb to the fact that another companion of yours had died. That was the third one in under two years. You thought you would have cried more, wanting to lock yourself away from everyone else a wallow in self-pity until your head hurts and your skin is dry from the salty tears. But you felt the opposite, wanting to finally go out and explore. Maybe you were a shitty person for moving on so fast, but maybe it was for the better. Or maybe that was a smaller part of you trying to convince yourself it was all okay when in reality it really wasn’t.

You could only hope that your cat would have a better life when reborn. That would be enough to let you sleep peacefully at night.

Jungkook hums, “Something about the history of this land”

You nod, never having been fond of history. It felt a little a little unconventional, why would you focus so much on what has already happened when you have the whole future to look forward to?

“I was thinking we could go out for lunch; I saw a nice place on my walk this morning” Jungkook turns towards you, happy with how far down he’d been able to stuff his book into the bag.

He doubted you’d ever rummage through his stuff, seeming more content with him riffling through the bag to get clean clothes or a snack. But better to safe than sorry. Especially since it was becoming evident you could read now; he would hate for his plans to be ruined because he was kind enough to share his knowledge with you.

“Sure” you reply, handing him the hairbrush to be put back neatly into the bag.

Jungkook was right, the small building the two of you had entered was more than nice. It even had two floors! (The owner explaining it had been inspired by building from the countries overseas who had places to eat with more than the ground floor like the hanoks) The outside was lined with small flowers, vines clinging to the walls, climbing their way up to the balconies above the ground floor.

You don’t ask when Jungkook requests the private balcony area on the second floor, assuming it was so the two of you could eat comfortably without worrying someone would try and hand you into the royal family or freaking out because Jungkook had four arms.

You watch the bustling streets, watching some kids play a game you weren’t familiar with, a few stealing loose fruits from crates, giggling as a few elderly people chase after them.

You wonder if that is what a real childhood looked like. All the children in the capital seemed so happy, happy with their parents and siblings, happy with their lives. The perfect life you could only ever have dreamt of becoming a reality.

You wouldn’t say you were jealous. If you hadn’t left the home you’d grown up in, your life would have been completely different. Your friend would still be alive, maybe you would have married by now. His father wouldn’t have approved, but you supposed you could have run away together. If you’d run away would the outcome, be the same? Would he have died because he had married a spy? You suppose he wouldn’t have been safe either way.

Regret is a fickle thing. There have been so many moments in your recent life where you wish you could just go back and change what has happened. You wouldn’t care if the future was different, that is something the you of then would have figure out. Because the you of now wanted to go back and change all the times something had led to the death of someone you loved so dearly.

You would convince your friend to stay home, he wouldn’t have died a brutal death. You would tell Taehyung he shouldn’t go down to the village, you’d go alone because if you could survive the disease once you could do it again and then he would still be by your side. You’d have taken lil meow down with you to breakfast the other morning, that way you’d still have your furry companion.

You regret not knowing, which in hindsight sounds stupid because how were you meant to know all of these bad bad things would happen? And it was easy to feel sorry for yourself, and the small, selfish part of you thinks that you feeling sorry for yourself if justified. Because why were you still alive and they weren’t?

Maybe you regret being born, you didn’t really have much say in the matter, but maybe it would have been better if you hadn’t tried so hard all your life to stay alive. Fighting tooth and nail to survive in a world that clearly didn’t want or need you.

If you hadn’t been born you wouldn’t be a bad omen to those around you, and everyone you’ve ever loved wouldn’t be dead. Jungkook may have been a special case, born blessed as a being that is unable to die. And maybe that’s why you stayed, because no matter how unlucky you may be, Jungkook would never fall into the hands of death because of you.

If you hadn’t been selfish, childish, then the poor cat would still be alive. Roaming the mountains free of burden. If you hadn’t been selfish and wanted to spend just a few more moments with your friend you’re your childhood, he wouldn’t have suffered an unjustified death. If you hadn’t agreed to stay in the hanbok, then maybe Taehyung could have waited out the winter with what food you’d eaten, and neither of you would have contracted a disease. He would still be alive and happy, carefree as he carries on the same routine he had for years without you coming and interrupting his peaceful life with his friend.

“Y/n?” Jungkook calls you, tugging at the sleeves of your cloak to catch your attention.

Your eyes flit up to meet his own.

“Are you okay?”

You hum, waving him off with a quick smile. It was easy to smile while looking at Jungkook’s face. Maybe it was because you didn’t want him to worry, so a smile was easy, or maybe Jungkook just had that affect. Such a nice face that you have no other choice but to smile too brightly at him. Or maybe you smile because you don’t want him to ask too many questions that you yourself don’t know the answer to.

He watches you for a moment longer, trying to gauge if you were lying or not. But then he sees your eyes light up at the array of food laid out on the table before the two of you.

“You bought so much” you mutter in awe.

“Well, aren’t you going to eat?” he asks, nudging a pair of chopsticks into your hands.

You nod slowly, “I’m trying to engrave what it looks like into my mind”

Jungkook laughs, a fond smile on his face as he just watches you, “No need, we’ll just come back in a few months and eat here again” he tells you, easy smile on his face.

“Okay” you grin.

Jungkook’s eyebrows furrow when you push yourself from the cushion on the floor, feet light as you skip your way over to his side of the table.

You lean down, pressing a kiss to his cheek, “Thank you for the food, Jungkookie” you smile.

Jungkook feels his heart stop, his fingers moving on their own as they wrap around your wrist.

Your head tilts in question, your breath hitching when he pulls on your wrist, so you’ve leant down once again.

You bite your lip to stop the big smile that threatened to pull onto your face when he presses a kiss onto the apple of your right cheek.

“You’re welcome, my lovely” he replies, motioning for you to go and sit down, “Now hurry and eat before the food gets cold”

“Yes sir” you mock salute, giggling when Jungkook rolls his eyes, tone teasing as he tells you to hurry up and sit down.

+++

You grip onto the sleeve of Jungkook’s cloak when a large group of people move in a clump down the narrow street.

You look up at Jungkook in confusion, ready to ask if he knew why so many people were moving in tandem, but your mouth clamps shut when you see the annoyed crease in his brows.

“Burn the demons!” a burly looking man shouts, the posse of people following him repeating his words with just as much enthusiasm.

Jungkook pulls you back into his chest when a new wave of civilians shove their way down the street, although their movements lack the mesmerising movements like the sea’s waves crashing against the shore, more shoulders bumping shoulders, the delicate crash of the waves replaced with grunts as they all bounce off one another.

“What’s going on?” you ask, voice raising in hopes that Jungkook would be able to hear you.

Either he does, or choses to ignore you as his fingers take a hold of your hand, dragging you into a narrow alley way beside the building the two of you had just had lunch in. You try and pull your hand from Jungkook’s fingers feeling as though they were going to snap with how tightly he was holding your hand.

“Jungkook what’s going on?” you ask, voice a little breathy as you try and catch up with Jungkook’s long strides.

The demon slows down a little, apologetic furrow of his brows as he watches you try and catch your breath, “They must be protesting” he mutters, and you simply nod.

“Against demons?” you ask, watching Jungkook release a long sigh.

“I should have told you” he turns towards you, “Not all demons are kind, my love. Some do bad things, and so they get punished” he explains, hoping the worry evident in his tone is enough to convince you of this white lie. It was technically half the truth, but you didn’t need to know the full problem, you losing your memories of what happened the night years back had already helped him move forwards in his plan.

As long as you believed it was the same year, where you were a wanted spy, and he was a harmless demon that was worshiped by all then everything would be okay. His plan would continue to run smoothly and then he could hold you in his arms without worrying about trivial human matters like death.

“Was there a bad demon here then?” you ask, worried you’d get caught in-between the conflict.

Jungkook nods, hand coming to rest on his chin as if in thought, “It seems so, we should head back to the inn for the rest of the day, just in case”  

“That’s probably a good idea” you agree.

Jungkook takes a step before stopping. You make a noise in the back of your throat in question, watching as he releases your hand, turning to face you as he rummages through the pockets of his cloak.

Your head tilts up to look into his eyes when he pulls what looks to be a small pocketknife from the confines of his cloak.

“What?” you ask when he thrusts it in your direction.

“Just in case something happens and I’m not there, you’ll be able to protect yourself” he leans down to take a hold of your right hand, placing the pocketknife into your palm.

Your left hand traces the intricate design of the handle, wood having been carved out into small delicate flowers, painted with so much care there were no smudges or random pieces of colour bleeding into one another. It truly was pretty, like nothing you’d ever seen before.

“Jungkook I—I can’t” you shake your head, not daring to sheath the actual blade.

“You know I’ll always be by your side to protect you, but just in case” he pushes your hand away when you try to give it back, “Please, I’ll be able to rest easy knowing that if anything were to happen to me, you’d at least be able to put up a fight”

You swallow, eyes flitting back down to the pocketknife before you look back at Jungkook. Even with the warm afternoon sun being obscured by the roofs of buildings, in the dingy alleyway that was nothing more than grey cobblestone, greened with moss and small weeds, Jungkook looked so pretty. He looked so calm, unlike how he had been moment ago in the street. You sometimes wonder if he had lied about being a demon, he looked nothing like the scary beings that old wives’ tales made them out to be. Maybe he truly fell from the sky, an angel sent to help guide you in life.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” he scoffs, finger pushing at your forehead.

You sigh, “I was imagining what I could do with this thing” you dangle the offending weapon between your thumb and forefinger

Jungkook laughs at that, “You can’t kill a demon with a measly knife” he waves you off, easily slipping his fingers between your own as he pulls you out the alleyway.

“Then how am I meant to defend myself”

“That’s what I’m here for”

“But you just—”

Jungkook presses a finger against your lips, “I’ll always be there for you, but it never hurts to have a back-up plan”

+++

You’d been thinking for a few days about the conversation you’d had with Namjoon about the part of your life that you felt, had gone missing. Maybe you were paranoid, or just plain stupid. Or maybe you imagined the incident that happened in the village. Or you were overthinking everything. All seemed like possible answers but no matter how hard you try to remember, you can only ever think back to the moments before the rocks had been thrown at you, enamoured by how intricately made the wooden bunny was.

And then blank. You couldn’t recall anything after that. Like it never happened. Seeming swallowed into a blackhole, making no sign of ever returning.

You faintly remember a dream, but after the first day of waking up it had been pushed to the furthest corner of your mind, Taehyung’s death taking up most of your thoughts. And whenever you try and think back to it now, you can only seem to remember how fresh the air had felt, and the soft scratching of golden grass on the backs of your hands as you wandered into the horizon. The sky a bright blue that otherwise hurt your eyes, a dull pain in the back of your head that would return when you would think too hard about what may have happened in your dream.

Nothing adds up.

It had been winter the day you’d gone down to the village with Taehyung, you were sure of that, you remembered how soft the scarf was Taehyung had gifted you, a gift for your first winter spent with himself and Jungkook. And if what Jungkook had said was correct; that you’d been passed out for only a few weeks, then there was no way it should have been that far into the spring once you’d woken up. Flowers in full bloom, sun not shying behind the clouds throughout the day.

But why would Jungkook lie?

Your fingers gently brush over your cheek, contemplating whether it was possible for such a deep gash to heal in such a short amount of time, with no evidence left behind. No scar, no tender tissue or discoloration. You’d woken up like nothing had happened. Maybe that was common? But as a child such a deep wound would take months to fully heal.

He wouldn’t lie, would he?

You fall onto your back, mattress cushioning your fall. Your head turns towards the door of the inn room, Jungkook’s large backpack coming into view.

Maybe he kept a diary like Taehyung did?

Jungkook had gone out for a walk that morning, whispering to you while you battled between staying asleep or finally waking up, sun peeking in through the windows, encouraging you to peel your eyes open. You’d hummed and waved him off when he asked if you wanted to join him. And that was less than an hour ago.

He did say he would be gone for a few hours… that would leave you with more than enough time to quickly snoop through his bag and see if he was hiding anything.

You felt a little bad because you knew that looking through people’s stuff was wrong. Really wrong. And you think Jungkook would be disappointed if he ever found out you’d gone and peeped into the bag while he was gone. But, if you wanted to figure out the anomalies in your life, Jungkook may be the perfect place to start.

You don’t know what you would do if you ever found out he was actually lying to you, and that’s why you pause when your fingers make contact with the bag.

What would you do?

Maybe it’s better you never know.

Or maybe Jungkook had done nothing wrong, and you were being paranoid. What if he found out you’d gone through his stuff, and kicked you out of his home? Left you stranded, leaving you to fend for yourself. You both knew that was impossible, your best bet would be to hide in the forests, no one usually ventured into the woodland. Although, you doubted you’d be able to survive of wild berries alone, the thought of having to kill an animal making you feel squeamish.

Then what? You’re back to square one where you die alone, unwanted by another person?

You swallow.

But what if he never found out?  

What if he never found out and you got the answers you were looking for? It would be easy to put everything back in the backpack the way you’d taken it out, and it’s not like he would notice miniscule changes in the packing.

You look at the door, waiting to see if he would walk in. When he doesn’t, you turn back to the backpack, fingers deftly pulling the strings open.

You carefully remove the layer of folded clothes, placing them neatly beside you. Soap, hairbrush, sack of apples, more clothes, a map. (What you fail to notice is his ‘history’ book wasn’t in the confines of his bag, because who would need a book on history when you plan to buy supplies?)

Your shoulders slump forwards when you find nothing. No notebooks, no pieces of paper with anything written on them, nothing. You even look into the pockets, nothing.

With a defeated sigh, you start to pile everything back into the bag, only praying that you were putting them all back in the correct order and hadn’t messed up.

You tie the top of the bag, pushing yourself up off of the floor.

Deciding you’d take a break in your investigation, breakfast sounded really good right around now. So, you skip downstairs with Taehyung’s notebook secured under your arm.

“Morning!” the inn owner calls out to you, smiling as you plop yourself down at one of the bar stools.

“Good morning, do you have some ink and a quill?” you ask, thanking the woman when she tells you she’ll be right back.

Your legs swing back and forth as you wait, peering around the room.

“Do you know where Namjoon is?” you ask when she places the ink in-front of you.

“Said he was going to check on the horses, he already ate so I imagine he wouldn’t be back until lunch time” she replies.

You nod, opening a new page in Taehyung’s notebook.

You flip back one page, checking the latest date, making sure you had the year correct.

Taehyung’s latest entry had been November 1859, written the day before the two of you planned to visit the village. You didn’t read too much of what was written, respecting that it was Taehyung’s private thoughts, although from what you caught a glimpse of, it spoke of the things you both needed to buy in the village.

You supposed if it was already spring then it must be 1860, which further confuses you. Deciding to brush off the suffocating feeling that consumed your body, your tongue pokes out as you figure out exactly what you want to write.

 “1860? That was a while ago wasn’t it… I hadn’t even opened the inn yet. Do you plan to write a novel?” the inn owner asks you.

You look at her with wide eyes, “A while ago?” you ask, confusion heavy in your voice.

She nods, “Yes, I heard novels of recent history are popular these days, with the new king rising to power”

“What year is it now?”

“This year it would be 1865”  

“Right now? It’s 1865?”

She nods, eyebrows furrowing in confusion as you start to flick through the pages of Taehyung’s diary.

“Are you okay dear?” she asks.

Your head shoots up to look into her eyes, “Yes!” you slam the notebook shut, “I’ll be back in a minute”

“But my—your breakfast!”

“I’ll come back for it” you call out to her as you sprint up the stairs, lungs squeezing for air as you push open the door to yours and Jungkook’s room.

You fall onto the bed, careful as you pull open Taehyung’s notebook once more.

When you said you had never lied to Jungkook, that was a lie in itself. You learning how to read and write so well was meant to be a surprise. You wanted to show Jungkook how quickly you’d progressed in both skills, how you’d practiced with Taehyung while doing chores, and sometimes you’d dream of studying certain characters that you found difficult.

You did plan to surprise him when you got back to the hanok, maybe by asking if you could read to him before bed, not the other way round.

You flick to Taehyung’s most recent entry once more.

[November 1859;

Tomorrow me and y/n]

Your eyes zero on your own name. That was definitely your name.

If you’d been with them in 1859, how was it currently 1865?

You knew you hadn’t had the best gauge of how much time you’d spent with them but basing it off the seasons it shouldn’t have been more than a year. It definitely hadn’t been a year since Taehyung died. If you’d woken up weeks after the incident, then Taehyung shouldn’t have been dead for more than a month.

Taehyung wouldn’t have written the date wring so many times, would he?

From the few times you’d been in his room it seemed he kept more than one notebook. When you’d first met him and asked what he would write down every other day or so, he had told you about his habit of writing. How he liked to document special moments in his life so he could go back and read about his past in years to come.

How likely was it that he had gotten the years wrong all this time?

Taehyung was quite a meticulous person, not the type of person to guess a date and go with it. He was particular about small details like that.

You chew on the nail of your thumb, but why would Jungkook lie?

Say it hadn’t been weeks, and it had actually been years.

How were you alive? Without food or water surely, you would have died. If it had been 6 years, then how come you hadn’t aged at all?

That would explain how the wounds you had gotten from the village boys would have fully healed, but nothing else made sense.

You slam Taehyung’s notebook shut when the room door opens. Your heartrate speeding up as Jungkook saunters into the room. You look at him with wide eyes, swallowing thickly as he roves his eyes over your body.

You see his eyes slightly narrow, as if trying to gauge what you were doing before he came into the room.

“What were you going?” he finally asks, eyes trained on the notebook tightly clasped by your fingers, his own tightening on the woven bag in his hands.

You stay silent for a moment, mind racing a mile a minute as you try to find a decent lie. Something believable enough that he wouldn’t ask any more questions, because your heart felt seconds away from beating right through your chest with how hard it was pounding against your ribcage.

“Jungkookie?” you eventually say, tone a little sweeter than usual.

He looks up at your face, head cocking to the side in question.

“I have a request”

“Only if you answer my question” he prods, clearly unsatisfied with turn of conversation.

“It is about that actually” you look down at your lap, fingers fiddling with the hem of your shirt, “I was looking through Tae’s list, and he says the royal palace is really beautiful”

Jungkook is silent for a moment, and you keep your eyes trained in your lap, scared that if you were to look into his eyes, you would spill everything you had discovered within the last hour.

“Is that all?” he eventually asks, easy smile on his face; because you were just too adorable. Of course he would take you sight-seeing if that’s what you really wanted, nothing to be embarrassed about.

You nod, breathing a sigh of relief when he agrees.

“Let me just put this stuff away” he says, “Then we can leave”

You watch him pull the book he had purchased the day prior from a woven bag, your eyes narrowing when there is nothing written on the cover of it.

“Jungkook?” you ask, he hums, not turning towards you as he tries to shove it further inside the bag, “Is that history book interesting? I think I want to try reading harder books now, not just children’s poems.”  

Jungkook pauses, eyes meeting yours briefly before he turns to the backpack once more.

“I don’t think you’d like this one, love. The vocabulary is hard, even for me” he explains.

You hum in understanding, deciding it was best not to prod any further.

“Ready to go?” Jungkook stands up, hand stretching out to help pull you up from the bed.

“Yeah, I still have to eat breakfast before we go”

Jungkook sniggers at that, nudging your shoulder as he tells you how breakfast is the most important meal of the day and that it was closer to lunch time now than it was breakfast.

You shrug, explaining that even breakfast can be eaten at lunch sometimes.

+++

How well did you truly know Jeon Jungkook? Why had it taken you so long to ask this question?

You knew it was because he was the closest person you would get in this life that would always be a constant. He liked you, he couldn’t die, so why would he leave you? Just like yourself he had no one else in this world. And maybe you were cowardice, projecting your own insecurities and fears onto him, but it was true was it not?

Loneliness was simultaneously the best and worst thing that could happen to a human. It was a valid fear, as humans were social creatures that overall worked better as a team than in solitude. Two pairs of hands are always going to be better than one and being able to confide in another person should be second nature, because no one should have to deal with their pain alone when they had so many that cared for them.

Loneliness however can force you to learn to love your own company. If there is no one else around, you can only rely on yourself. And at the end of the day, you are the only constant in your life. Forced to fend for yourself, live for you, and you only.

But that scared you, what was living if it wasn’t for other people? Forced to marinate in your own thoughts, figure out your own feelings and live just because you want to or feel obligated to because you were given life so maybe you should live it out for a while.

Unless you’re Jeon Jungkook. He never seemed alone.

You believed that you would stay with him for a long time, because he had nowhere else to go just like yourself. And wherever he went, you think you would follow, because you were scared of being alone. Scared of the solitude that some found comfort in.

But why would you blindly follow him? Because he was kind enough to house you? Feed you? Put a roof over your head and help you develop skills that otherwise you would have no resources to do so? Even if he had been lying to you, deceiving you even.

If Jeon Jungkook was a colour, he would be grey. Muted, his character unimposing until you peel back the layers upon layers that he shields his being with only to find black. Onyx. A dark plain that can only be described as Jeon Jungkook, the ghost of a hand pulling you into his warm embrace until you settle down and thin sticky vines trap you beside him with no escape, remaining by his side for the rest of his eternal life.

Even with a small crack in what is Jeon Jungkook, a lie exposed to you, you chose not to say anything.

Why?

Because he’s familiar, and you’re scared of being alone.

Why would you willingly fall headfirst into a spiral of solitude when you could remain by his side, acting oblivious as he plays you like a puppet. Chipping away at your very being until you’re too warn down, leaning on him for support like he had planned from the start. He’s never hurt you, his caress gentle, and words sweeter than fresh honey or sugar cane. Blindly guiding you further into his abyss, steps away from the point of no return.

But you’re okay with that. Willingly holding onto him like he holds onto you, like the two of you are the only two left in the world, needing nothing more than each other to survive.

Now you find yourself at a crossroad. Why walk down the path of loneliness when you could walk down the path towards Jungkook, who happily waits for you at the end of the road with his arms wide open? It seemed obvious which path you would choose. And maybe you were spineless, allowing someone you barely knew to swing you around like a doll on some strings instead of facing your fears.

Maybe Jungkook was scared of being alone too. You’d never considered living an eternal life, simply living day to day hoping you’ll wake up tomorrow. But you worry how lonely he would feel if you were to ever leave him, a twinge of empathy flaring up at just the thought of it. Left to live alone for the rest of time. If you could live together, without the fear of desolation… walking the ways of life hand in hand with no one but each other.

And that’s why as you shut the book stuffed away inside the lower depth of Jungkook’s bag, you say nothing. Washing away what you had read from your mind, smiling happily when the demon re-enters the room, freshly washed, looking like the epitome of ethereal as he flops onto the bed, beckoning you to come over with a kiss to your cheeks, his own flushed the prettiest shade of dusty rosy, pink.

You knew which path you would be taking.

#bts #jungkook x reader #jungkook #jungkook fanfic #jeon jungkook fanfic #bts smut #bts fluff #reincarnation #bts jungkook #bts fic #bts jungguk #jungguk x reader #bts angst #bts fanfic #jungkook fluff #jungkook smut #jungkook jeon #jungkook imagine #jungkook x you #taehyung #jimin x reader #taehyung x reader #taehyung fluff #ot7 imagine #namjoon fanfic #seokjin #seokjin fic #yoongi fanfic #hoseok imagine #yandere jungkook

[sansloii]

Rules, tag 10 followers  you want to get to know better!

Tagged by: @fanaticist​​ Tagging: @skxrbrand @celestialspitfire @dcviated @hhemeraa @nezumivc103221 @soulsxng @feraecor @soraeia @fatestouch @desiderium-eden + and anyone else that wants to share deep dark personal lore

Name: marshy, morsh, mushy, marshabelle, whatever mispelling you want of "marshy" because i will respond to it all

Star Sign: gemini (sun) + scorpio (moon) + aquarius (rising)

Height: 5'6/5'7-ish

Middle name: that's between me and the fbi agent in my laptop

Put your itunes/spotify/youtube on shuffle. What are the first 6 songs that popped up? ( my youtube playlist is a fucking mess do not judge me )

hated by life itself by Iori Kanzaki

blessed messiah and the tower of ai by Hitoshizuku-P × Yama△

Ressurections by lena raine

don't threaten a bitch! ( mashup of panic at the disco & marina and the diamonds )

last remote piano arrange by nana takahashi

use me by diplo ( feat. dove cameron + johnny blue skies

Ever had a poem or song written about you: nnnnope!

When was the last time you played air guitar: god i don't even know when the last time i did that was djfsdfs

i'm more the type that will dance in my seat or in place when i'm feeling a song

Who is your celebrity crush?: don't have one. i'm boring sorryyy and if i do, i don't remember it right now

What’s a sound you hate; sound you love?: you know those obnoxious pricks that refuse to get a muffler or whatever for their car? so when they're driving really really fast in their super nice "fuck you" car, the exhaust or engine pops just as obnoxiously loud?? that. i hate that. I personally think that i should get to kick you down the stairs if your car does that.

as for a sound that i love, i like rain noises and ambiance. often times, i use it to write or do coding tasks at work. it lets me block things out and really focus on what i need to do, because i'm prone to getting distracted.

Do you believe in ghosts?: not really? all the spooky shit is already happening and this world is scary enough without the addition of spectres from the beyond

How about aliens: kinda? but more in the sense that there is no way in hell this planet is the only planet with sentient life because there is so much of space that we haven't even touched. that said, can they pop up after i exit this mortal coil because i will not have my life be derailed by an alien invasion. no ma'am

Do you drive?: nnnnope. but i live in a city where i don't have to yet

if so have you ever crashed: n/a

What was the last book you read?: i literally never read anymore so i couldn't even tell you.

Do you like the smell of gasoline: no. it fucking stinks

What was the last movie you saw?: uuuuhhhh by the time this posts, i'll have watched the super mario bros movie. but if not, I watched lights out ( thank you @hhemeraa )

What’s the worst injury you’ve ever had?:  when i was in middle school, i ran face first into a glass door at home and it shattered. a large chunk of glass landed on my shoulder and i had to get stitches for it at like... 11pm on a school night. mom was a nurse tho so she got me in and out of the emergency room relatively quickly because she took me to the hospital she worked at. i was Not a happy camper, regardless, tho and after i got back home, i avoided that part of the house for a solid month. i also only got to stay home for like. a day or two before i was told to go back to school

it didn't help that i kept hearing that with the way it landed ( the scar is just shy of the junction of my neck and shoulder ), it could've been potentially fatal. and i was really lucky. so that was nice.

Do you have any obsessions right now?: tears of the kingdom!!!! i got it day one and have been OBSESSED with it. i haven't been able to play it as much as i would like but!!! i'm having fun with it--especially when the game lets me make a large ass bridge of logs so i can scale something i don't have enough stamina to climb.

#ツ ┊ ⧼ catwalk talk ⧽ ⇹ ( ooc. ) #ツ ┊ ( mun memes & stuff. ) #.here u go #.more marshy lore #.i took the sickest nap after i got back from work uwu #.and now i'm gonna #.go play zelda

[shenanigans-and-imagines]

Hi, I hope you’re having a really great day. I need to vent and also need some advice, but I feel I have no one to turn to. Especially no one who isn’t incredibly biased. I moved to NYC for the first time last year with my bf (I turned 21 this year). Our lease is almost up and I’m realizing how debilitating this city has been for me financially. I have no money and especially no money to not only renew my lease that went up by $300, but find another apartment in the city. Another big con is I’m spending so much money to live in a box which would be fine if I had amenities or something. I hate to complain because I truly love it here, but the greed of money hurts so bad. I am mentally ill and there are weeks, even months, where I have a hard time getting out of bed let alone leaving my apartment. This can be hard when you don’t have laundry in unit or building, or a dishwasher and to have those things here it’s even more money. And all I can afford are pre-war buildings like the one I have now that have no ventilation, get mold easy, and get cockroaches. I’m just at a loss because I feel this is the first place I’ve lived in where I’ve connected with people so easily the way I do and I have access as someone who can’t drive due to anxiety. I told my dad about everything and he’s offered to give me a bunch of money every month to support me BUT only if I move somewhere that I’d have similar amount of rent but get more. It’s another big-ish city that I’m familiar with, but I feel like if I go I won’t be happy and I’ll feel shame. Like I’ll be disappointed in myself that I gave up and didn’t try harder with NYC, you know? I just don’t know what decision is best for myself and I have no one to ask who isn’t biased as hell, they all want me to do what benefits them mainly. I feel so torn. All I want is to live comfortably somewhere I feel accepted- and to make younger me proud. :( Anyways, thank you for taking the time to read this. Appreciate you so much ❤️

First off, while I understand why you feel like you have nobody else to go to, I’m not sure asking a random person on the internet is the best course. I’ll give my best advice but since I can’t have the full picture, please take it with a grain of salt.

With that out of the way, financial stability is genuinely more important than people give it credit for. Yes, friends are important and feeling like you finally have independence is freeing, but if you don’t know if you’re even going to eat this week than none of that can be enjoyed.

Speaking from my own experience, the worst year of my life was spend in LA because rather than enjoy the city and spend time with friends, I was working 60 hrs a week just trying to stay afloat. It will make your anxiety and depression even worse.

I would advise finding a place you can be stable first and figure out the rest as it comes.

There is no shame in having to quit the city. You’re still really young. You can always come back later. You’re not the first and you won’t be the last. Most major cities are designed to kick the asses of anyone remotely working class.

If you do end up moving, I would recommend to hit the ground running finding a place to go regularly. Join a book club, take a class, find a choir, really anything that strikes your interests. It’s hard to make friends as an adult and so requires more effort.

I’m not sure if this is what you wanted to hear or if it’s useful. Wish you the best all the same.

#advice

[sirthisisa-wendys]

The General (part 9.5): Geto Suguru x Fem!Reader

synopsis: it’s over. the ruse is up.

wc: 2.1k

tw: none

masterlist

“Have you ever considered just not going to meet the Prince and remaining in your rooms?” Kaori wonders as you sharpen a blade with a rock. “I mean, I’m sure he wouldn't bother you if you assumed the appearance of an invalid. How about getting out of town for a week?” 

She’s tried everything to get you to reconsider your stance on killing Prince Naoya. Any theory, any loophole, any cop-out; Kaori’s said it. But you have no choice. Geto has to be avenged, and the only way you can manage vengeance is killing the man who sent your lover to his death. 

“Listen, we have only a couple of days left. We can use poison, strangulation, accidental drowning, and straight-up murder - which I think is the messier of the bunch.” Toji ticks off methods as he watches you work away at the blade with determination. “I vote we poison his food, and if that doesn’t work, smothering can go a long way.” Megumi peers into the little pond in front of him as his father discusses treason, entirely uninterested in anything but finding another frog to play with. You envy the child and wish that you could take his place, forgetting everything else except the current pursuit of a frog. But your frog is much more elusive, slippery, and well-guarded.

“We have to drug the guards first,” you note, and Toji grunts affirmatively, biting his lip as he stares past you, deep in thought. You look at the scar on his mouth and squint, wondering if you’re just now noticing the pink-ish raised mark or if you’d seen it before, but never noted the way it looks against his tanned skin in the sunlight. You look away before anyone can accuse you of staring, but make a note to ask about the injury later. 

“How can you be assured that none of this will affect your parents?” Kaori wonders, and you look at her with a pensive stare. 

“I’m sure it wouldn’t affect them. They know nothing of the plot and I--”

“If you’re dead, you can’t defend them,” she reminds you, and for a moment, you reconsider the plan altogether. 

“Toji, do you think you could get my parents out of here safely?” 

“I can’t guarantee shit,” he replies, resting his chin on his palm as his green eyes focus in on you again. “But I can sure as hell try.” He adds when you give him a defeated look. You respond to his addition with a half-smile, and he rolls his eyes at the sight, huffing out a short breath. 

_______________________________________________________________________

“Try and hit me,” Toji encourages you, and you reach a hand out to slap him across the face. But you miss entirely and stumble forward, almost face-planting into the ground. “You can’t put all of your force in your upper body like that.” He chastises, stepping in front of you again. 

“Give me a rake and we’ll see about that,” you counter, earning you a loud laugh. Toji takes his stance again, hands prepared for a fight. 

“Come on, little girl, put up a serious fight. You don’t need a rake.” You inhale deeply, centering yourself with one foot placed behind you at an angle and one foot in front, planted firmly into the dirt. “Hit me.” 

The roundhouse kick narrowly misses Toji’s tan face, and his eyes widen as your heel barely scrapes his nose. 

“I said hit me, not kill me!” The bodyguard gripes, and you laugh at his overly-surprised expression and step back, holding your stomach as you bend over in a fit of giggles. When you stop and straighten back up, you catch Toji staring at you in wonder. 

“What?” 

“Your laugh… I’ve never heard you laugh like that before.” At the mention of your enjoyment, you hum thoughtfully, realizing, yes - you hadn’t laughed so heartily in a long time. But in his moment of unguardedness, you shoot your hand out - the fist making contact with his gut immediately. He grunts, holding his abs and wincing a little. “You… fucking... bi--” Before he can finish his sentence and grab you, you take off for the hill behind the house, laughing as you run with all of your might.

But Toji catches up to you easily, grabbing your elbow and making you tumble to the grass, then roll back down the hill in his arms. As you roll - and scream - grass and dirt and wildflowers are kicked up and tossed into your hair and clothes, dirtying your face as well. When you stop though, you’re on top of Toji, and his arms are crushing you against his chest protectively. 

“You can let go now,” you groan, and he opens his emerald eyes, staring right into yours with an intensity you’ve only seen on one other person’s face. “Toji…” you whisper, and his face changes again, now softer and much more… relaxed, if that was even possible. He blinks, and you pause, recognizing the meaning behind his looks. “Fushiguro, I--” He lets you go immediately, clearing his throat and standing. 

“We should get back before dinner. I’m fucking starving.” He saunters off with his hands in his pockets, not even offering to help you up off of the ground.  

_______________________________________________________________________

The moon hovers precariously in the night sky, illuminating the garden directly below it and bathing you in moonlight. You’re only a few hours away from meeting Prince Naoya, and it’s the thought of seeing him face-to-face that keeps you up tonight. What would he look like? Would he know who you are? Would he ask you any questions about Geto? 

Your eyes rest on the reflection of the moon in the fountain, Toji’s old dagger resting in your lap. 

“It ain’t much,” he mumbled when he handed it to you. “But if something happens, whether it’s with the food or the smothering... You’ve got this dagger.” Then he showed you how to murder someone quickly by using a pillow and your dagger, aiming precisely for the open space between his ribcage. “Stab once, pull it out, and run like hell if you want.” 

You inhale deeply, filling your lungs with fresh air. 

“Cold out here,” Toji mumbles, rubbing his arms as he walks out of the house barefoot. “Can’t sleep, y/n?” 

“No,” you admit, then jerk your chin at him. “You?” 

“I don’t get much rest these days,” he replies, sitting beside you at the fountain. “Worried about tomorrow?” You look over at the green-eyed man and blink, your blank expression telling all. “Well, I’m not. You’re going to be fine.” 

“And what will you do when you have to watch me be executed?” you tease, but Toji’s eyes fall to the fountain, eyeing the moon’s reflection. 

“It’ll be sad. But I understand why you have to do what you’re doing.” 

“Toji Fushiguro? Sad?” You laugh, but he gives you a withering look instead of laughing along with you. 

“Listen, I’ve made a lot of off-color remarks, but I meant what I said. You’re a great person, and I would hate to see your life go to waste over some petty vendetta.” His mumbling catches you off guard, but you say nothing in response, opting to look down at the dagger instead. “But, you’re determined to pursue your lover into the afterlife; I get it. You must really be in love with him.”

“I am,” you reply, still not looking at Toji.

“Well, since you’re going to die tomorrow, I might as well be transparent with you,” Toji whispers. “You know, looking after you was a pain in the ass at first.” You frown at him, wondering what kind of comment that is, but he continues anyways. “But you grew on me. Shit, watching you for these months has become enjoyable, more exciting than the idiocy I used to do before. Y/n… I’m--” Toji swallows hard, then raises his eyes to meet yours. “I’m... going to miss you.” Toji leans in slowly, placing a rough hand on your right cheek before kissing the other cheek with a tenderness you always knew he held deep inside. Once he pulls away, he stands, raking his hands through his short hair and sighing before walking back into the house. But you’re left outside, wondering what could’ve been if you weren’t so hell-bent on bringing your dead lover justice. 

_______________________________________________________________________

The sounds of horses, bells, cheering, chants, cacophony… too much noise.

You can hear it all from your position in the kitchen. The village is louder than it’s ever been before, and all the noise provides the perfect background noise to you and your mother’s preparing food for the six of you already living in the house and about thirteen guests- the seven guards, the four servants, a royal advisor, and finally, Prince Naoya. The resulting feast will outshine any feast your mother has cooked before, and you know that the village will speak of the honor bestowed upon your house and the cooking from it for at least a day. 

The next day, they will be lamenting the loss of the eldest son of the Imperial Court, and rejoicing upon your execution. Just like they celebrated Geto’s death. 

Wherever you are, I hope you’re happy, Su, you pray as you peel a leek with precision. Only a few more hours and Naoya would be within your reach. 

First, you’d drug him with a powder Toji had acquired in exchange for… something unmentionable that he wouldn’t divulge. Second, you would help the prince off to his bed as the drug took hold of him and tuck him in. Then, you’d smother him to death. If that didn’t work - “and there’s a chance that it might not”, Toji warned - you would stab him in the heart. Death would reach the Prince’s soul before the morning light. And you would be ready to die the next day, all to meet Geto in whatever world he had passed on to.

An icy hand grips your heart as the hours pass.

The thought of rejoining your lover - feeling his arms around you, touching his hair, looking into his black eyes - is more than enough for you to pretend everything is alright. All you’re doing is making the most of the last few hours you have with your family, Kaori, Toji, and Megumi. The small child is parading about in his newest outfit, displaying his hakama and haori for all to see and coo over. Toji wears a matching outfit, the clouds and animals drifting about his black haori reminding you of a zoo display and of the days you wish you could have. 

You’re wearing your best kimono - the peach one Kaori dressed you in the day you left the camp; Suguru’s mother’s kimono. It’s all too beautiful, really. Everyone is dressed up like royalty, but you’re the only one who came dangerously close to that life and escaped by the grace of a certain General who had your heart. Now, you would murder royalty and die as much of an outcast that Suguru was. 

After you wash your hands in the fountain, you place the dagger inside your kimono and look at yourself in the mirror for the last time. Color had returned to your cheeks over the past few days, and a certain look in your eye had become commonplace. You had something to live for, and these days would remain in your memory as the best days you’ve had since Geto died. 

“They’re coming up the path,” Kaori hisses as she walks past you, ushering Megumi and Toji to the door behind your mother and father. “Come on.” You follow them obediently, standing behind your father and mother as the procession winds its way down the road. While soldiers, musicians, villagers, everyone is parading in front of the carriage carrying the murderer of your lover, you look to the ground and clench your fists. Your resolve steels itself in your spine as you hear the procession get even closer, the clanging making your jaw tighten and your knees tremble. Too much noise, too much noise, too much noise for a man who slaughtered innocents.

The music dies down when the carriage comes to a halt, but the sound of children excitedly squealing nearby. You keep your eyes downcast, not daring to look the spiteful man in the face or attract attention to yourself. The echo of children’s excited chatter stabs you in the heart even deeper - how could children be excited by this killer? - and you try to block out the memories of Itadori, Junpei, and Nobara, but to no avail. 

You’re trying so hard that tears are streaming down your face, and mucus gathers in your nose as you begin to cry quietly. Megumi reaches up to grab your hand tenderly, holding it in his five little fingers as you hear the door to the carriage swing open slowly. You avoid looking, and sniff so hard you almost miss the first words out of a certain blue-eyed bastard’s mouth: 

“Whoa; watch your step, Yuji! You don’t want to fall in front of Lady y/n, do you?”

_______________________________________________________________________

TAGLIST: @kamisamaundercover​ @jotazinha​ @just4readingfics​ @mxhi​ @sammytamaki​ @brownskinnedgirll​ @keelyshayee​ @leanne-tamashi​ @vabybizzle​ @amaris9​ @fuegy-fuegy​ @ambiguous-something​ 

#geto x reader #jjk geto #jjk #jjk megumi #megumi fushiguro #jjk toji #toji fushiguro #jujutsu kaisen getou #geto suguru #getou x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen imagines

[spider6oy]

Just One Look | JJ Maybank

summary: jj has a serious problem; he can’t seem to stop staring at you. everyone notices, even you, but he doesn’t seem to want to do anything about it - or maybe he just can’t. but at a kegger on the beach, maybe this time his staring won’t go to waste?

warnings: self-loathing, self-depreciation, sickly sweet loved up teens

word count: 2030-ish

masterlist

JJ couldn't help but stare.

He really couldn't - no, like, seriously he couldn't. He had tried everything to practically stop gawking at you like some sort of fish out of water; with his eyes wide and lips parted ever so slightly. He had tried using a rubber band on his wrist, snapping it every time he would catch himself staring. He had tried pinching his arm, squeezing his skin every time he would so much as glance your way. He had even tried slapping himself across the face one time - although it did raise a few eyebrows and brought more questions than JJ cared to answer.

But none of those techniques had worked.

JJ had remembered hearing from someone before, that if you punish yourself enough times whilst doing something you didn't want to do (in this case it was staring at you like you were a pot of gold at the end of a goddamn rainbow), then your mind would soon learn to see that action as undesirable and bad, and eventually you would stop.

Well, JJ thought whoever had said that was definitely talking out of their ass - his money was on Pope.

But in the end it didn't matter what JJ tried to do to stop himself from staring at you, nothing would ever seem to work, and he was completely done with it.

"Dude, you're doing it again." John B commented as he took a swig from the red solo cup in his hand; smirking slightly as he noticed his blonde friend gawping at you from across the beach.

"Doing what?" JJ asked innocently, bringing his own red cup up to his lips and taking a long sip. He continued to watch you dance amongst your friends and the other people who had turned up to the kegger. His eyes traced over your body slowly; completely entranced by the way you moved your hips and swayed your body to the beat of the music.

"Making yourself look like a creep, as per usual JJ." Kiara stated, pulling the colourful sunglasses down the bridge of her nose and staring over the brim of them at the not-so-subtle teen. "I mean, is it so hard to actually go over and talk to her?" she questioned, accepting the cup of beer Pope had just brought back from the keg.

"Oh a thousand percent. Listen, in JJ's mind, talking to Y/N is the equivalent to going to The Crain House and getting caught by Mrs Crain herself - he would no doubt shit his pants." Pope joked, quickly dodging JJ's fist as he tried to land a punch to his chest.

JJ shook his head as he gave Pope a weak shove (not actually wanting to hurt his friend), rolling his eyes as his friends continued to joke and laugh about his unfortunate situation. He had become used to the banter and quips that came with his major crush on you, but never letting the jokes get to his head because most of the time they were true - to a certain extent.

JJ would like to think he wouldn't shit his pants if he actually went to talk to you. . . well. . . he could only pray he wouldn't.

But, his friends were right in saying that he was scared to talk to you. He was absolutely terrified. Even the thought of sending you a simple 'Hello' made his heartbeat quicken and his palms start to clam up.

About two years ago he had tried to talk to you. His friends had challenged him, tired of the way he would trail after you like some love-sick puppy, to go up to you and just start a conversation. JJ thought for a moment as he looked at you, sitting at a table in The Wreck at the opposite side of the room to him and the Pogues. He thought why not? He wasn't going to get to know you if he didn't make the first move - up until this point he was pretty sure you didn't even know he existed. So, he stood up from his seat (much to the surprise of his friends) and walked towards your table. He set his eyes on you; watching as your smile widened and your eyes crinkled as you laughed at something your friend had said to you – not noticing the waiter that was walking towards him on his right-hand side.

All JJ could remember was ending up on the floor; covered from head to toe in fish-stew and attracting the attention of every single customer in the restaurant. After that he swore that he would never try and speak to you again; knowing that if he did, something bad would inevitably end up happening.

Because when did anything ever go right for JJ, huh?

“JJ, I doubt anything bad would actually happen, just go over there and talk to her!” John B said, slightly flailing his arms around as he grew fed up of his friends’ cowardice.

JJ looked at all three of his friends; Kie and Pope nodding their heads in agreement with what John B had just said – but to JJ, that didn’t matter. He just shook his head, swirling the beer in his cup around as he lightly kicked at the sand under his feet.

“JJ, I bet she doesn’t even remember what happened at the restaurant two years ago, if that’s what you’re worried about.” Kiara added, swatting at Pope’s hand as he tried to steal the sunglasses perched on her nose.

“But you remember!” JJ pointed out, looking up from the sand.

“Yes, but that’s only because I know how much you hate that memory, and I enjoy watching you suffer.” Kiara countered, finally taking her sunglasses off and placing them on Pope’s head, receiving a wide grin from the boy.

“Listen JJ, I know you’re scared to go and talk to Y/N, I get it. It didn’t go to plan last time, and I get that it affected you, but that was still only your first time trying! You don’t even know what could’ve happened if you’d tried again, and you won’t know what will happen if you don’t try now!” Kiara laced her hand with Pope’s, mumbling about wanting to go and grab another beer, before turning back towards JJ. “Just. . . don’t waste your time staring at a girl, when you’re not even going to do anything about it, JJ. It’s really not worth it.”

-

“Your secret admirer is staring at you, again.” Heather commented, her eyes motioning to the blonde boy that was stood across the beach.

You glanced towards your left; smiling lightly as you noticed JJ looking over in your direction, giggling at the sight of him quickly averting his eyes and awkwardly scratching the back of his neck – trying to act as if he hadn’t just been caught.

You had always sort of been aware of the stares and glances from JJ Maybank. At first, when your friends had pointed out that they had seen JJ staring at you, you were quick to play it off. Always saying how he couldn’t have been staring at you; it must have been someone else, or that he was probably just staring at your friends, because there was no way he could have been staring at you.

Right?

But after a few months, you had started to notice yourself that JJ was staring at you (with this look of just complete and utter adoration and warmth that made you feel instantly weak at the knees and want nothing more than to run into his arms and just never let go).

What struck you the most from the action was simply confusion; confusion as to why he would choose to stare at you? Out of everyone in The Outer Banks; out of all the Kook’s, and the Touron’s, and the Pogue’s (especially the Pogues, considering you had always thought that JJ and Kiara had something going on); he chose you.

You.

Plain and simple you.

Nothing special. Nothing exciting. Nothing out-of-this-world amazing.

Just. . . you – Y/F/N Y/L/N.

And somehow that had been one of the hardest things you had ever had to come to terms with; the fact that someone liked you, the fact that someone found you attractive, the fact that someone would go out of their way just to look at you, and only you.

You had never been the most confident of people; quite often struggling to find the positives in yourself when all you could see was the flaws. Your friends would tell you countless times that you were stunning and hot and gorgeous; but those comments didn’t even make a scratch on the hatred and disgust that surrounded you like a shield of armour – attacking you instead of protecting you.

But when you caught JJ gazing at you with that look - it felt like something inside of you had finally broken free from your prison of self-deprecation; some sort of self-worth, or self-love, or whatever you wanted to call it. It really didn’t matter. Because for the first time in your life, you could finally look at yourself and see the beauty that everyone else could see.

The beauty that JJ could see.

“Why don’t you go over and talk to him?”

“What?” You questioned, completely caught off guard by Heathers proposal.

Heather rolled her eyes lightly, still swaying to the beat of the music playing from some speaker situated on the beach. “Y/N, that boy has been staring at you for the last. . . I don’t even know how many years – a lot, probably, and during this entire time he has not once come up to speak to you – which is pretty stupid in my opinion, but I’m not gonna get into that,” Heather rambles, making you laugh and shake your head at her words.

“The point is Y/N, is that I can tell JJ is nervous and just doesn’t have the confidence to come up and talk to you himself. . . which is quite surprising because he’s always come off as pretty cocky and confident to me – but anyways, so-“.

“Heather, what’s the point?” You ask; trying to stop Heather from falling down a rabbit hole of her own thoughts.

“I’m getting to that. . . the point is Y/N; is that you have to go up and talk to him. He just. . . can’t come to you.” Heather stated, shrugging her shoulders lightly as she looked over in JJ’s direction. “I don’t know why really. Maybe something happened to him before? Maybe something has just put him off from coming to speak to you?” Heather turned back towards you; grabbing your shoulders and turning you towards JJ, slightly pushing you forward. “But we will never know unless you go and talk to him! So, go!”. Heather gave you one final push; sending you out of the crowd of dancers and towards the drinking bystanders.

You quickly turn back around, hoping to find Heather to try and talk her out of this crazy idea, but she was gone – already swallowed by the large crowd of dancing teenagers. You sigh lightly, feeling your heartbeat start to pick up as you slowly turned back around.

You eyes instantly spot JJ; standing next to his friend (who you think is called John B), drinking from a red solo cup, and talking about god-knows-what.

You take one step across the sand, feeling your hands start to shake as adrenaline seeps into your bloodstream. You take another, feeling your breaths start to quicken as anticipation begins to build in your chest. You take another, feeling a slight sweat begin to settle on your forehead as the anxiety starts to set in.

You take another, and another, and another; until you’re practically almost beside him.

You go to take another, and you suddenly stop.

Your eyes widen slightly. Your breath catches in your throat. Your heart feels as though it’s stopped beating.

Because he’s looking at you and you’re looking at him.

Because he’s caught your eye and you’ve caught his.

Because you’re both looking at each-other now.

This wasn’t some stolen glance, or a sneaky look anymore.

This was a real and true two-way-connection; one that made your heart burst with excitement and your mind spin with wonder – you never wanted that feeling to end.

You took another step forward now, no longer feeling dread and anxiety swell inside of you but instead it was a feeling of anticipation and fascination. The feeling only continued to grow as you neared JJ – nothing could stop you now or slow your pace.

You had to get to JJ.

Out of the corner of your eyes you noticed John B leave JJ’s side, a knowing smirk plastered on his lips as he tried to hide it with a swig of his plastic cup.

You finally do stop, arms-length away from the blonde boy stood in front of you; equally as awestruck and dumbfounded as you currently felt.

You both hold the look.

You both stared at each other.

You both smiled.

“I’m Y/N.” You said, holding out your hand for him to shake.

“I’m JJ.” He retorted, slipping his hand into yours.

#jj maybank #jj maybank fanfiction #jj maybank fic #jj maybank one shot #jj maybank x fem!reader #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank x y/n #outer banks #outer banks fic #jj x reader

[bastillia]

Rough Landing

Part 2 of First Lesson

Summary: Commander Ren has a few more things to teach you.

Rating: Explicit

Words: 8.4k

Warnings: cockwarming, overstimulation, threats during intimacy, inappropriate use of the Force, oral sex (ROUGH, m receiving), unsanitary sex location, public(ish) sex, kinda exhibition kink, no aftercare, uhh bit of cumplay

A/N: Whew alright I know it’s been 3 months, but we’re picking up pretty much right where we left off. Thank you all SO much for the love on part 1. And huge thanks to my incredible friends who have supported me, beta read, and helped me conquer my stuck points. I couldn’t have pulled this through without y’all. Enjoy!

***

There was plenty to like about being in space. For one, it was absolutely quiet. 

Perfectly soundless. Unfathomably endless. In a way, the void between the stars had always been your perfect aegis; a blank slate to nurture everything you’d hoped to become. It held power in its silence, and possibility. It was calm, dark, vast-- it was home, for as much or little as you knew about the word. 

If you thought about it, living aboard the roving flagship of the First Order had always given your life more or less a perfect structure. Most of the time, you didn’t even mind the predictability of it. Your days were purposeful and productive. If, sometimes, just a little boring. But, that was okay--you liked the quiet.

And you were never ever taking it for granted again.

“Stop moving.” Kylo Ren’s voice broke through the growing rumble of the hull. It was only the sensation of gloved fingers tightening down into your hip bones that finally alerted you to the fact that you were squirming. Again. You grimaced.

"I'm trying." 

Friction from the gathering atmosphere punched the craft into a sharp rattle, and your heart struck your sternum as the controls lurched underneath your palms. Your fingers cinched down tight, the lack of circulation in your knuckles settling into a dull throb as you continued to wring the contoured grips, as if you could strangle some desperately needed assistance out of them that way.

Fuck.

Breathe.

You could do this, you just had to stay calm--think about home, about the tedium of whatever meeting was probably going on right now. About how all eyes would be on you if you were there, about the dumbstruck look on General Quinn’s face when you presented that fucking perfect dossier you’d compiled on some key New Republic official he’d been trying to track down for months.

Yes, think about that.

Not about the sweat beginning to break out across your skin, the unnerving rattling around you growing louder and louder. Not about what was still sheathed inside your twitching cunt, stretching you, demanding that your body yield to its presence.

Warm echoes of your last orgasm flared up with another clattering vibration of the atmosphere. It felt almost trapped within you, an electric refrain to the adrenaline melody that pounded your veins now. Your floor muscles quivered tight with it, eliciting an approving twitch from within your walls as Ren’s fingers flexed into the bruises on your hips. 

It was incredible, really. How time had begun to feel almost obsolete until now. It had passed abstractly in the quiet serenity of space as you’d sat filled to your limit, feeling nothing but the commander, his breathing, the omnipresent ache of his cock. Your world nothing but an aroused haze-- stirred every so often by a subtle buck of his hips, a kiss to your neck, hot breath in the hollow of your ear whispering don’t move, don’t you fucking move. Good girl. 

Your thoughts snapped back to the present with a vaguely wistful pang as the hull gave another violent shake. 

Atmospheric entry. What was that, week five? Six? Of the TIE pilot training program? It was on the phase-3 test, you were certain. And you’d put credits down that none of the novice pilots had ever experienced the added curriculum of a cock shoved inside of them.

A warning squeeze stilled another involuntary shift of your hips.

You gritted your teeth against your discomfort, instead trying to let the adrenaline form a whetstone to sharpen your senses.

Breathe.

You could do this. You were way beyond just some novice trooper, you were a fucking lieutenant general of the First Order.  And what did you do to earn that rank? You adapted. So, fucking adapt.

A jolt slammed the craft, and your muscles locked up as the head of Ren’s cock speared something tender and abused deep inside you. The ship squirreled under your grip, leaving you paralyzed as the movement of it set off every panic alarm in this new and untested region of your brain. Without missing a beat, two huge, leather-encased palms came up to wrap over your shaking hands, steadying you with remarkable certainty as they coaxed the vessel back under control. 

“Focus, lieutenant." There was almost an amused purr in Ren’s throat, his voice low and close, utterly lacking in any kind of concern. Your pulse gradually came back down, and with it, your fear curled into a flicker of annoyance. If he was going to mock you, he could at least use your proper title.

You know.

The one you’d worked your ass off for.

The drag of fingertips across the bare skin of your upper thighs jolted you. Your body felt hyper-sensitized, like the sudden touch ignited a cascade of fission that couldn’t seem to find equilibrium anywhere. It fractured your brittle composure in two, just as the roaring blaze around the viewport flared again with a powerful tremor that kicked your heart back up in a sudden panic. 

Sweat lined your palms, adrenaline congealing and turning to acid in your veins. You felt your nerve slip.

"Com-commander, s-sir, I--" 

A hum. “Control yourself.”

It was only two words, but each one cut through your rising panic like a blaster shot to the sternum, rattling you to a realization. 

Control. 

That was the test all along. He’d laid it right out in front of you, challenged you to a game with incredibly fucked up stakes, and he was drawing his hand. Taking a seat at a proverbial Sabacc table, stretching out his chest and waiting for you to either bet up, or lose your nerve. The ante was rising, piece by piece as he silently tested the parameters of your breaking point. 

But he wouldn’t find it. Not like this.

Fresh determination fixed your grip around the shaking controls. It was even enough to keep you from reacting this time when a dull pain lanced under your skin, his teeth catching a tender spot where he had marked your neck some time before. He growled. You tucked that card up your sleeve. 

“Decelerate.”

His tone had shifted quieter in a way that made your ears prick, snapping your attention away from the dull ache of your insides. It sort of stunned you, actually, into something of a quiet curiosity. 

His hand reached around you to swipe at a holopad on the console. An altimeter blinked to life, just before the soft heat of his lips returned to your ear.

“Drop to this zone.” He pointed to a region on the display. “Remain there until we get closer." 

Remnants of panic still swam somewhere in your blood, but you managed to draw a careful breath and nod your understanding. Your ante was still on the table, you told yourself. But perhaps he’d decided that challenging you could wait. For now.

Refocusing, you caressed the controls. The ship banked beautifully, intuitively at your will, before lurching a final time as the thrusters hit a stable layer of atmosphere. 

Beneath you, clouds floated in gossamer ribbons over the calm air, as tattered and thankful for its mercy as you felt. Farther down, the dim moonlight breathed monochrome shapes into being, half-swallowed by the murky vapor of shadow between them. Droplets condensed on the viewport as you dropped through the thin cloudbank, skittering shyly outwards and allowing the shapes to solidify into the oppressive grid of a cityscape.

Slowly, you could begin to make out vague details. Industrial sectors, shipyards, scrappy comms towers. The occasional twinkle of speeder headlights creeping between dilapidated buildings, and--

Your gaze snapped back to the holopad on the nav console, a deft swipe of your finger bringing up your coordinates. The planetary code blinked neutrally back at you, but the unmistakable string of numbers harpooned you with a bolt of clarity that had your ribs tightening down around your lungs. A question resurfaced from the bottom of your memory, curling up to slither coldly along the back of your neck. 

“Commander?”

“Hm.”

“Why, um--” You faltered. 

In truth, there was no reason for you to ask. The answer was already swimming around in your gut, acquainting itself with the sour feeling of dread that settled there. Waiting for your brain to analyze it while at the same time sitting in an insidious state of knowing that didn’t need to reach your head at all for you to feel its weight. 

You swallowed, and adjusted your grip. “Why a TIE fighter? Why didn’t we bring the command shuttle?” 

A pause. He reached around you, flicking a switch on the main console, and the Silencer’s headlights shuttered off with a resounding click. “We may need to leave quickly.”

For the first time since leaving the Supremacy, you felt something familiar settle inside of you. Deep and quiet, like the way sound doesn’t travel in space. It was the same, utterly instinctive feeling that took over every time you managed to get yourself in over your head-- when a negotiation turned volatile, when an unforeseen flaw surfaced in a mission strategy mid-execution. Those moments where the fixed parameters of your training ended, and the only thing left to take the pilot’s seat was your own intuition. 

But this time, there was something else there with it. It glowed within the powerful shroud of calm, thrumming quietly, filling you with something potent and restless and--exciting, that you couldn’t quite place.

Real, physical danger was not something you had much direct experience with. The various moral complexities associated with putting others up against it at your command, you had come to know well. But you were here now. Facing it in the flesh, not protected by the reinforced hull and ion cannons of a Star Destroyer. 

You were here, looking down on the dark streets of Corellia, a planet so lawless and foul and flat out fucking dangerous that the First Order had all but given up establishing a presence here long ago. Even the New Republic’s ties here were thin.

A tightness struck through your chest as you very suddenly realized that it was only a matter of time, now, before you were going to have to--

“Drop lower.” The commander shifted to tap something into the nav console. A flight course lit up the holopad, leading to a destination marker just a few klicks ahead. “Land here.”

The sector you entered seemed somehow even darker than the rest as you brought the Silencer down over the shadowed streets, hints of crumbling walls and rusted vents just barely illuminated by the occasional weak street lamp. No headlights, hardly any ground lighting--you were no ace pilot, obviously, and it took your full concentration just to maneuver the ship between the vague silhouettes of broken antenna towers, avoiding them where their spindly shadows jutted up from the rooftops. You jumped when Ren’s hands enveloped yours again.

“Right here.” He guided your hands, expertly swinging the craft around and into a hover above a dim alleyway, empty and lined on both sides with large, abandoned-looking industrial structures. Your pulse jumped. He released your hands, a finger drawing your attention to a switch on your right, then flicking it casually. “Landing gear.” 

The hull rumbled and thumped. An array of green lights flashed to life in what you could only assume was an indication of the ship’s readiness for landing. If only you felt the same. Your hands were frozen on the controls, your mind simultaneously racing and completely blank. You waited dumbly for guidance, heart hammering, shallow little breaths trapping themselves high in your throat. 

“Relax.” Ren’s voice permeated to your bones as both arms slid around your stomach, liquefying your fear into a trembling plea. 

“P-please, Commander, I d-don--” You cut off with a shiver when his lips met your neck, his hips beginning to rock in a slow, enunciated rhythm that had your cunt immediately bearing down with need as you felt him harden. “Fuck, p-please, I don’t know how t--... h-how to--”

Your eyes rolled back as a hand slid down between your legs, the leather pad of his finger finding your clit stiff and sensitive, its touch featherlight. A hum rumbled under your shoulders. “Your intuition, lieutenant. Feel it, don’t think.” 

Maker help you, there were a lot of things you could fucking feel right now. Namely, your commander’s cock slowly massaging your walls, lazy in its rhythm. Your grip on the controls banishing the circulation entirely from your knuckles. His fingers sliding down your slit, spreading as he reached the root of himself, shamelessly feeling the obscene way your body yielded to the thickness at his base. The lust that erupted low in your belly in response. The panic that was rising as you remembered your task, its sharp tendrils threatening to reach your head and overwhelm you. 

Control yourself.

A turbulent breath shook some air back into your lungs as your tiny inner voice of reason managed to surface again. Collecting yourself, you let it expand, pushing each distraction away one by one as it went. Focus, it reminded you. Remember the card up your sleeve, get through this round. 

You tethered your awareness to the ship, to the curve of the controls against your palms, to the way they extended like a continuation of your own neural circuits to command the sleek metal beast encircling you. A steady, downward press of your hands, and it purred its obedient response, settling slowly towards the ground below.

“Good girl,” Ren said. “Just like that.” 

There was something--a tiny flicker of mischief in the shadows of his voice. Maybe you would have caught it quicker, but your tunneled focus left you one fatal step behind him, too slow to anticipate his move. His hand shifted, easily finding your raw clit against his fingertip, and pressed down--hard.

Electric. Everything was electric. Your vision doubled, the shredded remnants of your nerves shorting out and screaming against the paralyzing flood of sensation, ripping a ragged gasp from the bottom of your lungs. Maker, don’t scream, don’t fucking-- 

A shift of his finger and your hips jerked, an involuntary movement of sheer desperation for escape that carried right through your whole body and into the ship.

One wing dipped to the side, and it was only the sharp trill of a proximity alarm that managed to blast through to what was left of your reflexes just in time. A curse cut the air through your lips, your shaking hands grappling the controls into a clumsy counter-correction that swayed the craft wildly as you wrestled it back to center. The rocking slowly stilled, the ringing in your ears no longer from the alarm, but your own pulse bludgeoning your temples. Ren simply chuckled, and released your clit.

“Commander.” A few rapid blinks cleared the blur from your vision, but oxygen was still painful through the panic in your chest, leaving you frustratingly breathless. “With all due respect, sir, do you want me to crash your ship?”

“You won’t.” The smirk was audible in his voice. “Or is my confidence in your aptitude misguided, lieutenant?” 

A slew of unkind words lashed themselves to your tongue, fighting for freedom with the fuel of indignation that scalded your throat like bile, but you swallowed both, smothering your thoughts into silence. Stay calm. Maintain control. You drew a tight breath. “No, sir.”

“Mm. Good.” He rocked his hips firmly up into you, and a pitiful little noise clutched in your throat. “Then land my ship, and perhaps your proficiency will be rewarded.”

Desire shot up your spine like a flare, igniting at the base of your brain and rocketing your thoughts clear past apprehension and ahead to the promise of relief. It was enough to allow bravery to wriggle back into your fingers, your hands finding the wherewithal to resume their task even as your lungs stalled in anticipation of another distraction. 

But none came. 

The relief that flooded you was immediate and powerful the second you felt solid ground settle under the landing gear. The hull groaned around you as the craft came to a full rest, wheezing like a fathier after a hard gallop, and you, its master, just thankful to have survived the race. But there was one more hurdle for you.

“You know this part.” Ren gestured vaguely to the console, still alive with various lights and indicators, many of which, no, you certainly did not know anything about.

Your eyes darted back and forth a few times before it hit you. Of course. The ignition sequence.

Presumably, to shut the fighter down, you would just need to… to do it backwards? That seemed like the logical course of action, at least. Stars, how long ago had you even taken off? The Supremacy already felt like a faint memory, the edges of its shape scattered through a hazed prism, each facet reflecting nothing but incandescent pleasure and the blinding heat of Kylo Ren. 

But you had to remember. This was--you hoped--the final test, and there was no way you were going to fail. Maker, what was wrong with you, you were better than this, just think. The last thing he turned on had been…

Thrusters.

Right console, three switches. Bring all of those down. The roar of the ion engines quieted, taking the vibration of the hull down to a faint rumble. Okay, good, next was--

Ignition. Yes, ignition: off. Much quieter now, and stars, when was the last time you breathed? Fucking breathe. Okay, next. 

Compressor: disengaged. Auxiliary last.

Everything went black as you killed the main power. Your breathing seemed to echo around in the stillness of the cockpit, your cunt twitching to life in acknowledgment of what was now pressing harder than beskar steel against your guts, amplified by the darkness. It was almost as if the power from the ship had never really shut down, but simply transferred into your own body instead, flicking your ignition switch and bringing your arousal roaring back to life with a vengeance.

Every line of the commander’s body against you was lighting up your awareness, filling the sensory void with his presence, the unbearable stillness of him. What had he meant when he said he’d reward you? You’d learned his lesson, yes, and passed every fucked up test he’d thrown at you to prove it. For that, you could commend yourself. 

But if there was one lesson more poignant than the rest, one that now stuck like thermal sludge to every crevice of your understanding, it was that his next move could come at any moment--and not always in a way you could anticipate. 

This seemed like one of those moments.

A shift of his chest under your shoulders made you jump, one arm reaching up somewhere you couldn’t see to flick a control, and the hatch cracked open with a hiss. The night air flooded the cockpit, all but drowning your racing thoughts as it drew in like a cool sigh to kiss the heat in your cheeks. Your head fell back, lungs gratefully accepting the damp and oddly foreign relief of atmospheric oxygen, even as the scent of it stuck in your mouth. It was thick, leaden with rain and crude fuel, but you hardly cared. It felt divine.

Beneath you, an impatient grunt and a single squeeze to your thighs brought you back to the present with a tiny flicker of alarm. 

“Out.” 

Your muscles froze. 

“But, I--” Whatever you might have expected out of this moment, that was possibly the last thing you could have prepared for, and your brain was fumbling spectacularly in an attempt to process the one word. 

Did he actually mean that? Was this another test? You didn’t even feel like you could move right now, let alone clamber out of the ship with your whole body aching and clenching as it was. And you were so full, and he was so hard, and now you were nearly trembling with need and--

And you took too long to act. 

Wide hands locked around your waist, and then everything shifted--he was picking you up. Holy shit he was strong, he hoisted you upwards in one effortless motion, throwing your world into a blur. The only thing you distinctly registered through your disorientation was the feeling of his hard cock pulling along your tired walls, finally popping free for you to flutter and clench around nothing for a moment before your bare ass came down on the lip of the cockpit. 

Cold metal bit your flesh, a harsh and unforgiving contrast to the warm lap you’d grown accustomed to. Fuck, everything was dark. But hearing him shift underneath you had you hurriedly swinging your legs around to jump down.

And... the ground was a lot farther down than you thought. 

You landed hard. Hard enough for your knees to buckle, and you stumbled against the hobble around your thighs in a clumsy attempt to keep yourself upright. But before you could lose your balance you were moving again, being yanked by the arm and slammed back hard against the ship.

A huge, black mass crowded in on you, looming and pressing you back against creaking durasteel, the metal still warm under your shoulders as the ship settled from flight. Your heart slammed against the commander’s advance, eyes darting through shadow. 

In the span of a shared breath, his mouth crashed down on yours, open and wanting and hungry in the darkness, and everything inside of you detonated.

The heat of his mouth was dizzying. You mewled into it, the feeling of him so strong and warm and everywhere, tugging at your hips, tongue sliding past your teeth. Your hands gravitated upwards for any leverage they could find just to pull him closer, to taste him deeper. A low, rumbling sound scraped the bottom of his chest and two huge hands encircled your wandering wrists, easily plucking them off of their feverish course and slamming them up beside your shoulders instead. 

His exploration of your mouth grew brazen as he pinned you open, crushing you against unyielding steel, even taking a moment to suck at your bottom lip before his hot tongue was licking deep into you again, stealing your breath and coaxing soft sounds from your chest in its wake. 

An immobilizing sensation locked your arms in place, keeping them tight against the ship even as his touch slid along your arms and around to the front of your torso. The extra sensations hardly even registered through the feeling of his mouth on yours until you realized you still couldn’t move while he was cupping your face with one hand, the other leather-encased palm flattening over the confines of your uniform, squeezing at the soft swell of your breasts hidden beneath. 

A low growl into your mouth, a shift of pressure up your sternum, and then his fingers found and curled over your pressed collar. With one purposeful tug, the material popped open, and you gasped.

"Commander," you broke the kiss, your head spinning as his breath immediately blazed against your neck instead. His movements were impatient, uncharacteristically clumsy in their urgency as you felt the material of your top continue to separate all the way down to your cleavage. “Commander, w-we--”

Fuck, it was impossible to think, everything in your brain felt thick with a vibrating fog. You could feel tiny points of rational thought trying to take form, trying to remind you of where you were, of why this was risky. But they were like infant stars peeking through a hungry nebula, unable to solidify before being swallowed again. 

"Fuck, w--” His tongue slowly rode the curve of your jaw, and stars, what were you even going to say? “W-we sho-shouldn’t-" 

“Shouldn’t what?” he purred, smooth fingertips trailing slowly down the bare plane of your sternum and sliding under the open edge of your coat.

A soft whine was all you could muster, broken thoughts dissolving on your tongue the moment he cupped the curve of your breast and scooped it free of your neckline, pushing the fabric aside to let your nipple peak up against the open air. 

The empty street was quiet enough that your breaths seemed to ricochet as they tripped softly over each other, sliding along the walls of the alley and joining the soft buzz of a flickering street lamp farther down. Stars, anyone could be listening-- watching, for all you knew. In a city like this, it was impossible to anticipate the stakes. Rife with the sorts of creatures who took refuge in shadow, even the darkness seemed to betray you, leaving every inch of exposed skin glowing as if the dim moonlight had suddenly adopted all the strength of a Tatooine sun. 

Your heart raced. You scrambled to clutch at the caution left within yourself, for any remaining instinct that would tell you that this was wrong, that you shouldn’t be going along with this. 

But you found no purchase. Your inhibitions were dissolving through your fingers-- dwarfed in Kylo Ren’s shadow, smothered under his hands, the power of his presence atomizing any need for your guarded reluctance and casting it into obsolescence. 

And as you surrendered, suddenly every eye that might be watching, every ear that could be tuned to your pleasure just around a shadowed corner, was like a hit of fucking spice. The thrill of it arched your back, coaxed bolder sounds from your chest that bounced daringly off of the bullet-scuffed duracrete to fade into the darkness of the alley.

Ren gave voice to it first, a growl breaking through the roar between your ears. 

“You’re enjoying this, lieutenant.” A swift yank of your undershirt revealed both of your tits to the damp air, and the chill of it settled wonderfully on the thin sheen of sweat that had gathered under your stiff uniform. The sigh that melted through your lips was as much confirmation as you could provide him. 

“Filthy thing.” His voice was a darkened hiss as he roughly took both of your breasts in his hands. “You’d let me do anything, wouldn’t you? Right here in the fucking street.” 

There was no doubt that he could sense the pleasure soaking your thoughts with every passing second, the heat coiling up through your body, breaking you into soft trembles against the solid seams of durasteel.

Stars, this was wrong. 

But there was something about it--about being pinned up, shameless, tits bared and groped in the middle of a dirty Corellian backstreet like some cheap outer rim whore, that had you feeling freer and fucking hotter than you ever had in your life.

Yes.

He could do anything. Take anything. And right now, you’d fucking give it to him. 

Your teeth sank into your bottom lip, head nodding in desperate submission as your fingers wiggled against their invisible bonds. It was like your body was coming alive for the first time, finally catalyzed to its transition state, now burning and shifting and begging silently for him not to fucking stop touching you. 

“I want to know, little whore--” His hand spread over your bare collarbones, the wide junction of a thumb and forefinger pressing the base of your windpipe. A gasping little moan left you as his lips brushed your jugular, heat striking up through your belly and all the way into your neck when his other hand urged your thighs apart to tease your slit. "I want to know just how far you can take me down this pretty throat."

Everything in you shuddered, and your unrelenting bonds were probably all that held you up against the sudden lack of support that your knees offered. Kylo Ren pressed the tip of one thick finger inside you, barely curling at your soaked entrance. 

“Do you think you can swallow my cock, lieutenant?”

“Fuck. Yes, yes sir, please.” The breathless response left you before you even registered what you were saying, so thick was the need enshrouding your brain. It muddled your hearing, put everything else on a sensory delay to the pulsing heat that slid down and coiled up in your core.

And that’s why you almost didn’t catch the gritted command before the strong presence of his body suddenly drew away from you, leaving your head spinning. 

“Get on your knees.”

The Force evaporated from around your forearms. The loss of physical support nearly made you buckle, your body sagging against the fighter and leaving you to clutch at a ridge of metal for balance. You’d heard him, vaguely, but your brain still felt spectacularly slow. You were having trouble remembering which way was up, blinking against the low light, and the small hesitation was enough. 

In a flash of movement, his saber cleared the clip on his belt, cracking the air in two as it ignited in his hand and leveled to heat your neck. 

"Now.”

For a second, everything was extraordinarily still. Your lungs, your mind, even the faint drizzle of mist seemed to suspend in the air, vaporize around the searing plasma, and equilibrate into a deathly quiet.

The red aura vibrated in your immediate periphery, engulfing your retinas and casting everything around it in near-total blackness, unwavering in its proximity as the cold street pressed your knees. 

A very marked shift took place in the state of your awareness as you knelt, waiting-- feeling. Everything was hazy and warm before, but now. Oh, now, everything was hot, and sharp. 

The snap of plasma echoing through the empty street sounded somehow both hushed and magnified. The gravelly bite of duracrete into your knees was both painful and electrifying. And all you could do was sit here and accept the way Kylo Ren drank you in, just hold absolutely still and let the tip of the saber rotate to your front, the light of it illuminating your bare chest.

And, fuck. Oh, fucking Maker-- 

You were wet. 

Every beat of your heart was an enunciated hit to your core, giving your arousal a wicked edge that cut into every last molecule of your body. Your cunt ached more with every pulse, and yet Ren just held there, his breaths shaking the damp air between you as he gazed at your naked tits under the light of a weapon that could kill you in half an instant.

You were possessed, the danger and thrill of it flooding your skin with intoxicating fire, and in a moment of what might have been either immense bravery or unfathomable stupidity, your hand began to move. 

Very, very slowly, it pulled along your belly, fingers twitching to splay downwards. The saber heated your knuckles, following as you guided it all the way to the apex of your thighs, where you paused. And then you sat back on your heels, spread your knees as far as they would go, and curled your hips forward, letting the crimson light gleam off of the wet shine of your cunt. 

“Fuck,” Ren rasped from the shadows, something delirious and urgent unearthing itself from the gravel of his voice. Somewhere beyond the snapping hum of the blade, you heard the slick sound of leather moving over flesh. “Fuck- touch yourself. Sh-show me--”

But you were already moving. Your fingers slid into the wet heat of your folds, tender with arousal, the flesh plumped up from abuse. You dragged your slick all over yourself, spreading for him, pulling up to circle your neglected clit and letting out a soft sigh at the relief that saturated you in a deluge. 

The cool air did little now to temper the exquisite heat that flooded your body as you pleasured yourself openly for him, whimpering when you felt a familiar swell prime itself deep within you. It brightened with every practiced curl of your fingers, blooming outwards to rival the lightsaber that illuminated you steadily, and it wasn’t long before your thighs began to clench, your hips rocking against the movement of your hand while heady gasps punched your chest, that luminous heat coming closer and closer to a blinding apex.

You began to flutter, tightening with closeness, but the blade shot up under your chin, freezing you in the one movement. 

“Don’t cum.” 

Your heart slammed in your throat, every muscle locking into place where it was. You could feel errant sparks biting your skin, daring you not to move or speak.

And then darkness swallowed you, a hiss of steam resounding as the saber abruptly disengaged. The lingering imprint of it marred your sight, and you gasped when the whirl of movement in front of you turned into a large hand snaking into your hair, hips crowding your face, and the warm, solid length of Kylo Ren’s cock pressing against your cheek. 

You whined, stiff muscles liquefying as you turned your mouth towards it, moisture already welling under your tongue. But his fingers tightened at your scalp, stopping you.

“See what you do to me, little thing?” 

His other hand gripped around his base, letting the weight of his cock thump against your cheek once, twice. Fuck, he was so hard, and if you thought he was big before, it was even more obvious now that he was pressed right up against your face, so close to the soft heat of your mouth.

You nodded and whimpered, letting your cheek brush against his erection, still damp with your own slick. He rocked his hips forward, and the sheer breadth of his stature dwarfed you as he pressed in closer, until your face tilted and your jaw rested up against the hard plane of his adonis belt. Heat seeped into your cheekbone, radiating from the saber hilt strapped deftly back to his hip, like a warm sun to the earth and smoke of his body. 

An absolutely crippling wave of desperation crashed through you then, pulling an audaciously loud moan up tight through your chest that morphed into a pitifully sobbed out, “Please.” 

The hand in your hair gave a firm tug until you were looking straight up his torso, the glint of his eyes just visible to your adjusting sight. He held you there, his strength commanding, voice slipping like dark matter through his vocal cords when he spoke. 

“Are you going to let this whole filthy fucking city hear what a little whore you are?” He rocked your head back and forth by your hair, turning your neck muscles to liquid. “Begging for my cock?” 

You bit your lip, too far gone to deny or assent. Perhaps caution would still be the smart thing, but stars--you didn’t fucking care any more. You’d let every wretched street rat on Corellia hear you beg for him, if it came down to it right now. 

Not trusting yourself to answer verbally, you simply let your mouth fall open so that your wet tongue could drag over the tiny slip of exposed skin above his groin, never once taking your eyes off of his shadowed face. Your reward was a thick groan and a twitch of his cock by your cheek, shooting a hot spasm into your core. Ren huffed out a tense breath. 

“Keep that fucking mouth open.”

He drew back and pumped himself, long and slow right in front of your obediently waiting tongue, black glove squeezing almost too roughly along his shaft until a thick bead of pre cum wept from his slit. Your brow pinched upwards as saliva pooled behind your bottom lip, threatening to drip down onto the duracrete, seep into a blaster hole and add to the memory that this roughened street would keep of you, so soft and wanting, incongruous next to its grit.

Ren stepped forward, obliterating your thoughts as finally, finally, he rested his thick head on your tongue, removing his own hand and letting you test the full weight of him in your mouth. Your moan was almost a sob when you closed your lips and dragged your tongue across his frenulum, letting him feel you, swirling the pre cum from his tip before sliding him deeper into the hot depths of your mouth. 

“Fuck, good girl,” he hissed, resting both hands in your hair, but not controlling. You took him another inch, tongue working to lubricate your path, satisfaction unfurling when his chest heaved at the feeling. The taste of him shot a primal fire through you, equal parts sharp and masculine, the remnants of your own cum leaving a tang on your taste buds. 

Arousal careened through your belly, and you couldn’t help but dip your hand between your thighs, fingers finding your clit stiff and sensitive as your tongue passed over a thick vein.

But he caught your movement, and your hands were immediately wrenched upwards by an invisible strength, both wrists flying up and into the waiting grip of Ren’s palms. You squeaked.

“Impudent thing,” he growled, and wrapped your smaller hands around the base of his cock, securing your grip with a warning squeeze before carding his fingers into your hair again. “Keep them there.” 

You gave a tiny nod and a shallow whimper, briefly mourning for your aching clit yet almost instantly distracted again by a twitch of his shaft on your tongue. Relaxing your jaw, you took him further, letting him begin to feel the tight silk of your throat.

“Fuck--” every muscle in Ren’s body seemed to go rigid enough to rival the durasteel frame of his ship, and his fingers clenched tighter into your hair. “Yes, take it--” he hissed as you slipped back an inch and enveloped him again, relaxing to take him deeper.

You found a steady rhythm like this, gradually acclimating to the feeling of intrusion. It became a little easier with each appreciative sound you drew from the commander, arousal permeating your body’s natural defenses and slackening them, even as your throat began to protest the moment you got about halfway down his cock.

But as hard as you tried to ignore the sensation of breathlessness, your lungs still screamed for air. You got maybe eight or nine good strokes in before your lips drew off of him with an obscene pop, slick hands taking over to work his length while you gasped a few starved breaths. 

It would have been easy to stay like this, jaw slack, lips plump and wet, simply marveling at the hard and beautifully flushed appendage in your palms. But then a finger tapped twice under your chin, breaking your daze with a wordless command that struck an immediate response--your eyes flicked up. 

“Are you determined to test my doubts in your capabilities, lieutenant?” He laid a flat palm under your jaw and ran his thumb over your blushed lips, leather slipping lewdly over saliva. “Or must I teach you everything?”

Your heart struck your pelvic floor, dread and excitement charging up like a shot from a plasma cannon. “N-no. I--” Heat surged into your face. “I me-mean, I, uh--” Fuck, it was stupid to think you were somehow out of hot water. He expected more. Always, always, expected more, and now you were going to have to play your cards carefully. You swallowed against the thundering of your pulse. “I c-can take it, Commander, ple-please--”

“Can you?” He wiggled your jaw slightly in his palm, face tilting until a sliver of moonlight slanted across it like a translucent scar. You tensed, resisting the urge to shrink. “Or should I have selected someone more adequate?”

The plasma charge inside you flared, fusing atoms of dread into something deadlier with the affront. Your teeth gnashed, tension breaking your body into trembles under the strain of caution. “N-no, sir.” A muscle in his face twitched. “Please, I was... I w-was just--”

“Perhaps I should return you to General Quinn,” he said. “I’m sure he would be more than accepting of such inferior talents--”

You lunged, and in a single, smooth stroke, you swallowed his cock straight to the base, your body heaving its protest with a soundless convulsion.

A noise strangled in Ren’s throat, and a firm hand slid around the nape of your neck to hold you there, gagging and completely stripped of any capacity for breath. 

It probably would have been too much for you to handle, were it not for the hot sparks of indignation that quickly soldered each fissure in your resolve. Each one forced you to soften, to accept the agonizing incursion, if nothing else just to prove that you could. 

Relax.

Tears welled as you glanced up, funneling all of your willpower into sacrificing your need for breath. Movement was impossible with him holding you there, but the huge hand on the back of your neck spasmed, and your opportunity struck.

Doe-eyed, you gazed up and swallowed, letting your pharynx flex and ripple around the thick head of him just as hot tears spilled over to soak your cheeks, and one hand curled around to cup him by the balls.

You could almost hear something in him snap with the choked roar he let out, and it made your chest swell even as both of his hands coiled roughly into your hair and locked your head back. You met his stare, fire in your own, and gave him a challenging squeeze. In less than a second, your hands were no longer your own, seized by the Force and shackled down to your thighs, just before his hips drew back and oxygen smacked your lungs with a less than pretty sound. 

He gave you no time to recover before his cock was gagging you again, his rhythm punctuated and slow, each thrust forcing submission from your body. Gravel shifted under your knees as you trembled with all of the muscular tension that you redirected away from your jaw, the coarse pain of it serving as a welcome diversion from the intense sensation of having your throat fucked.

Relax. Control yourself.

Wetness began to streak your face, tears and saliva converging on your chin, and the vague thought shimmered in the back of your mind as to what you must look like right now: a slutty mess completely at your commander’s mercy, drawing choked breaths only when he allowed it, tongue fluttering soft and wet under his thick shaft while your clit fucking throbbed between your legs. But from the broken sound that Ren let out as he watched another violent gag roll through you, you’d have thought it was the hottest thing he’d ever witnessed. 

His grunt bottomed out into a snarl as one hand slid out of your hair, his palm turning outwards while two of his fingers began to curl in a salacious motion.

The fluid sensation of the Force coiled and rippled across your clit at his command, its motions just like your own fingers but even better, making your eyes nearly roll back in your skull. Ren gave a knowing hum as your moan was choked down into your throat by another thrust of his cock, and a bend of his fingers sent a toe-curling rumble over your swollen bundle of nerves. 

“That’s it, lieutenant.”

The sound of his voice slid down your body, settling low in your belly where your orgasm was starting to simmer again. Even the ache in your jaw began to meld into your pleasure, making your head swim and buzz with the renewed promise of climax.

Ren’s breathing started to crack and falter, coming in half-formed curses through his ribs as he continued to steadily fuck your mouth, and it was clear that he must have been leaning on the edge of closeness for some time as well. You could feel it in the way his cock pulsed on your tongue, the way his stomach began to tense and flex.

Fuck, the thought of it--Kylo Ren, this grand enigma steeped in poise and brutality, a man who could obliterate life with a flex of his hand, was about to pull you apart by the threads, shatter you into pleasure with that same power and cum down your fucking throat. 

The wave of arousal that slammed you was almost maddening, and it was all you could do to flatten your tongue over your teeth and swallow thickly around his cock once more before everything was coiling up tight and fast inside you. 

His voice shot you to the precipice with a gritted out, “Fucking whore, let me f-feel you cum--”

There was a moment before it hit, like the way a seismic charge pulls in all of the sound around it into a single devastating point, and then with a choked sob you shattered, pulses of ecstasy ripping through your body while your cunt spasmed and wept its bliss onto the street with each unrelenting surge of the Force at your clit, wringing convulsions from you until you began to shake from the intensity of your orgasm.

You blinked the fresh tears from your eyes just in time to see Ren snarl above you, jaw tight and hips stuttering as the tension in his body threatened to snap, echoing in a rough pull of your hair. Pain seared your scalp as he pulled you off of his cock just in time for the first jets of his release to coat your tongue.

He groaned, a harsh sound that rivaled your surroundings in its sheer impurity, and he wrenched your head back further, working his length while thick ropes hit your open, gasping mouth, splattering your lips and chin with his bitter taste. He was grunting, swearing, panting through clenched teeth, and then--

Your name. Not your title, not a mocking belittlement of your rank, but your name, cracked through his lips, a desperate sound half-buried in the delirious stream of filth.

Before you could even process what you just heard, he sharply released your hair and stepped back, your invisible restraints dissipating and leaving you to crumple over on yourself, gasping and trembling and painted in cum. 

Slowly, through the ring of pleasure and shock in your ears, you rubbed your sore jaw, before using your fingers to gather the warm mess around your lips. But just when you were about to slip them into your mouth, his voice stopped you, a graveled whisper from the shadows.

“Look at me.”

Breathless, you looked up, suddenly conscious of how plump and stained your face felt as the cool air began to dry the tears on your cheeks. Ren had already adjusted himself to decency, but your walls still fluttered with aftershocks of pleasure at the sight of his huge stature, swelling with deep breaths like a sated, black tide under the moon. You gazed at him in the dim light, holding his stare while you dipped your slippery fingers into your mouth and dutifully sucked the cum off of them, admittedly letting your tongue lick out along your knuckles just a little more than you probably needed to. 

Ren’s nostrils flared, and he took a few strides in your direction. When his hand came out towards your face you flinched, but he simply curled his fingers under your chin and slowly passed his thumb over a spot on your cheek that you had missed, expressionless as he pushed it through your parted lips. He watched you like this for the smallest moment before he drew away again.

Your mind felt blank; wiped and recalibrated by the staggering intensity of whatever your life had become over the past few hours. Exhaustion settled on you with the weight of a freighter. The one thing still tethering you to reality was the sensation of oxygen drawing in and out of your lungs, sweeter now than it had ever felt in your life despite the taste of grease and rust in the air. 

Stiffly, you began to readjust your clothing, pulling your undershirt and coat back over your breasts before beginning the painful process of climbing to your feet. As shaky and sore as they were, your legs somehow supported you, and you managed to wrestle your pants back up over the curve of your ass, only fumbling a little to secure them around your waist. 

For some reason it was only after you were covered again that you even thought to look around the alley, a brief pang of fear seizing your ribs, but it was just as still as when you’d landed. Just as empty, just as quiet. Maybe even moreso.

You glanced back around to Ren where he stood by the connecting beam of the ship’s wing, still and ruminative, a sleek device raised in his hand. After a moment, he pressed a button and spoke into it.

"Report."

A crackle of static peeled through.

“Have eyes, dropping in,” you could faintly hear the voice on the other end say, and a spear of alarm jabbed you back to sudden alertness. Ren's eyes flicked to you, his face stone. 

“Clear to land,” the commander returned through the commlink, before tucking it back into his pocket. 

Your heart pumped uneasily against your ribs, your face surely a canvas of confusion. Ren cast you a blank look before grabbing a metal ridge on the ship and smoothly disappearing into the cockpit again. 

Okay, this was getting unnerving. But the whine of an engine snapped your attention to the sky, where a standard-issue TIE fighter was descending with predatory swiftness upon the alley, its headlights killed, swooping into a hover just behind Ren’s Silencer. Half-shielded by the wing already, you recoiled instinctively into the shadow of it, as if you could find safety in the way it jutted forward like a protective talon.

You jumped when heavy boots hit the ground next to you again, looking up to see a masked Kylo Ren. He watched the other fighter land, standing silently as its cockpit popped open with a whisper of hydraulics. A shadowed figure leapt out, and you took a few steps backwards as it strode in your direction, vaulting the wing-support beam of the Silencer in a smooth motion before coming to a halt in front of the commander.

“Ren,” a dusky voice rasped through the tinny filter of a vocoder. He was masked as well, similar yet altogether different from the commander he addressed; rougher-looking, shrouded in strange black armor. As you stared, his head quirked, the mask tilting to settle on you. “Who’s this?”

#kylo ren x reader #kylo ren #kylo ren imagine #kylo ren smut #kylo x reader #star wars fanfiction #smut #first lesson series #rough landing #my works #masterlist

[gurenscumrag]

Summary: Xiao see’s that you’re hurt and takes the time to reassure you and tease you.

Word count: 1,285

Xiao Lemon

You breathed in, a large smile gracing your lips, fingers gripping the ceramic plate that held almond tofu. You were just outside the entrance to the top level of the Wangshuu Inn, excited to see the adepti that guarded the premises. The two of you had grown very close in a short amount of time, you would come bearing food and would sit down together, Xiao would happily eat, listening to you ramble on about your adventures and the things you had done while in Liyue. Although he would never say it outloud, your visits to him was one of the many happiness he indulged in the mortal world, but you’d never know this. Instead, he would listen quietly, making comments here and there, watching the sun set in and the stars start to make their appearance. It was utter bliss between you two.

“Xiaoooo,” you sang out, walking towards the slender man who turned to face you at the sound of your voice. You offered him the simple dish, taking your usual spot beside him, your legs swinging off the ledge, “Goddness, the hilichurls were awful today. They kept kicking my ass…”

Xiao hummed, the sound coming out soft and apologetic. Chopsticks bringing the firm tofu to his mouth, greedily gulping it down. You laid back, eyes focused on the dimming sky above you both, “It’s kinda been a good day, I haven’t done much, just a lot of running around and gathering materials for my sword. Damn thing needs so many lustrous stone.”

“You have the Serpent Spine, don’t you?” 

You nodded at the comment, “Mmm, yeah, but I was able to ascend it to tier three.”

“That’s becoming a good weapon, treat it kindly.”

You smiled, Xiao had a sweet habit of personifying objects, “Of course, I’m giving her a break for the day. She needs a good cleaning too, I’ll do that before I sleep.”

Xiao, who had just finished his food set his plate aside, leaning back on his hands and studying your face. 

Your eyes met and you gave the mermaid-ish man a bright smile, “Hey you.”

“Hello.”

“Anyone come to visit you?”

He let out a puff go air through his nostrils, “You know nobody does. Only a few even know I exist.”

“It never hurts to ask, ya know? Maybe someone will, I don’t wanna miss out on hearing about that” You countered, reaching a hand out to lightly trace your fingers over the green iridescent tattoos that decorated the beautiful man. He shivered slightly under your feathery touch, but didn’t move further from you. He trusted you, something that hadn’t come easy and had taken you both months to come to an understanding, but he was grateful for the trust and patience you had given him.

“I know,” Xiao almost whispered, “I wouldn’t keep it from you. I can assure you.”

You hummed in delight, turning your head a little to the side, the last of evening sun slowly disappearing. You were content, these were your moments of happiness. You honestly couldn’t remember what you use to do before Xiao appeared in your life, perhaps you just would trudge into some inn or tent and pass out from pure exhaustion. Sometimes you would walk all night, your legs burning and your lungs gasping for air after scaling mountains and almost dyi-

“What’s that?”

Xiao’s voice brought you out of your thoughts, you turned to gaze at him, expecting to meet a soft expression, but what you got was a cold stare. Xiao was starring at you as if you were a stranger to him and it sent a chill down your spine.

“W-What? What’s what?”

His eyes narrowed, reaching out with a hand and cupping your cheek. It kept you still despite how nervous you felt. This went way beyond the bounds Xiao was comfortable with, and you didn’t understand what was going on with him. His gaze was cold, his thumb stroking a small patch of your skin before he carefully pressed down, causing you to hiss out in pain.

“You’re hurt. What happened?” His voice was growing colder and more demanding.

“It’s nothing, Xiao.”

He clicked his tongue, scolding you firmly with the simple sound, “If it was nothing, then why does it go further down?” To prove his point Xiao trailed two fingers along the bruise, tracing the pulse point on your throat down to your visible collarbone. You thought he’d stop, spare you some dignity, but he didn’t. He pulled the top of your shirt downwards, almost exposing your nipples to him, nevertheless he exposed the large and dark bruise. 

“Xiao,” you breathed softly, unsure what to say or even do, you’d be lying if you didn’t have countless nights dreaming about Xiao caressing and fucking you. He was attractive and a refreshing pleasure in your exhausting life, it manifested into feelings of admiration and almost love. To have his hands on you now, so close to your nipples that ached for his touch was overwhelming to say the least, “There’s this one hilichurl… Kinda looks like a giant rock creature… Someone needed help, they kept asking for me to save them, but I couldn’t beat him… I couldn’t save someone, they were stuck and I couldn’t kill the hilichurl. He got me too many times so I had to retreat.”

Xiao let go of your shirt, letting it fall haphazardly back on your skin. One of his hands coming to rest just above your head, he rested his weight on that hand and leaned forward. Your noses almost touching, his cold amber eyes bore into yours, “I told you to call me if you needed help.”

“I… I thought you were just saying that.”

“I meant it. I’m here to protect you. All of you.”

“But how can I call for you?”

“Say my name.”

Eyes widening, your cheeks flushing a bright red, “W-What?”

“Say my name, (y/n).”

“Xiao…” your voice came out breathy, shaky, and in a desperate whimper.

His golden eyes flickered down to watch your lips momentarily, a teasing smirk gracing his own brims at the sheer neediness in your voice, “I meant just generally. Say my name and I’ll hear it. I always do. Always.”

You stared flabbergasted and embarrassed. You wanted to run, to scream, to hide, but you were still trapped beneath Xiao, and then it dawned on you… He can hear his name anywhere?

“Oh…”

He hummed, smiling widely, showing off the sharp fangs in his mouth, “Yeah… Oh.”

“Why didn’t you tell me beforehand that you can hear that?!”

“I didn’t expect you to need my help, let alone moan it.”

“Xiao!?” You screeched, your cheeks an unearthly shade of red, bringing your hands to your face to hide your blush but you were stopped when Xiao grasped your wrists in his free hand

“I’m always here to help, (y/n).”

“…okay…”

“Now, about that hilichurl, don’t worry. If you remember where you left him, I’ll handle it.” You nodded quietly, still stuck under Xiao’s gaze and grip, so he continued, “Let’s get you to QiQi, okay? I’m sure the zombie can heal you up.”

Xiao pulled back, dropping your wrist from his grip. He stood easily and offered a hand to you which you graciously took. As you helped yourself up, mumbling, “I’m sorry, Xiao.”

“Whatever for?”

“Doing... that....”

He hummed, tapped a finger to his chin in an fake thought, “I’m not sorry for listening and watching you. Let’s go now.”

“What?! What do you mean watching me?! XIAO?!”

But Xiao had already sprinted inside, heading down the stairs and motioning you to follow him, all while you stared, mortified.

#genshin impact #xiao genshin impact #xiao #female reader #male reader #genderneutral reader #lemon #fluff #angst #smut #teasing #playfullyness

[tired0artist]

not enough (part one)

>part two<

paring: female!V x Johnny Silverhand

warnings: angst, coma, alcoholism, drug use, amnesia (there will be a happy-ish ending so don’t worry too much)

summary: after the whole shit show in mikoshi, V got out with her body and mind. but also an engram of the one and only Johnny fucking Silverhand and some good information. after months of planning she finally did what she promised to do.

note: okay so. I will be describing V as how my V looks like. but I will try to keep it to a minimum and you can just switch things up in your head as you read <3

————<•>————

Music was blasting just few rooms away and V could even feel the floor vibrating a bit. But it didn’t matter to her, as she held a warm hand in hers.

V looked up and smiled at the face of the man who only months ago was a parasite in her brain. A parasite turned friend. And later...

Her mind continued to replay their last conversation over and over again, during all this time without him.

“You will have to leave now, if you want to go back to your body” said Alt. Or rather what was left of her.

“But what about Johnny?! Can you get him back on the chip?” V asked, feeling desperate to know.

“V no. You leave this shit hole and live your fucking life. Don’t you even dare to try to put me into some fuckers head” Johnny said, arms crossed as he for a millionth time tried to tell V to just go on. But of course. When did the young nomad ever listen to him.

“Shut up Johnny! I was talking to Alt!” she yelled not even glancing at him as her eyes stayed trained on the woman.

“I can do it. During your useless banter I got inside Arasaka’s network. It seems they still have the body of Robert Johnathan Linden”

V was confused for a second why the guy mattered, when suddenly she got a flash of an very old memory from Johnny. Along with some embarrassment and anger.

Before she could question him, he pointed his finger at her saying “Don’t you even dare. Not a word, got it?”

She smirked but turned back to Alt “Okay where is it?”

“Outside the city. Nomad’s territory. It’s an old, private lab” Alt said.

“Okay I’ll find it”

“V—“

She turned towards Johnny saying “Not a fucking word got it? You promised to save my life and I said that I would take a bullet for you. This is the bullet Johnny”

He simply stared at her, before nodding “Alright, you fucking stubborn nomad. Just don’t kill yourself in the process, or we’ll be having words here. Got it?”

“Yeah, yeah I know. Now Alt, do I simply put the chip in his body?”

“Yes. But I have to warn you. During his time on your head, the chip got damaged. I fixed what I could but there are still some cracks”

“The fuck does that mean?” Johnny asked.

“Nothing too important. Slight memory loss or complete memory whipe of the time inside V”

“What...?” V asked, her heart dropping quite a bit. She wanted him to remember her. Remember them.

“Shit... okay I can live with that” Johnny said and walked over to V.

“But—“

“Shut up for a hot minute, kid. Now. I want to remember this time with you as well, no matter how boring it really was in the beginning. But if I won’t, then you’ll just have to tell me. And charm my pants off, again”

She laughed “Did I really charm your pants off? I don’t recall seeing you without them”

Johnny didn’t laugh, instead he leaned in and kissed her. It felt weird as they were technically data, but still it was perfect to them.

When he finally pulled away he just whispered “You sure did, sweetheart...”

“Johnny... I—“

“Shh... I know. Tell me up there in the world”

V nodded and said “I’ll help you remember. I promise, Johnny”

He smirked and touched her hand with his “I know, you stubborn nomad. Just know that... I’m sorry for how I might be when I wake up. Don’t be afraid to slap me if I really go overboard okay?”

“I handled a dick version of you who was trying to kill me once. I think that I’ll manage”

He laughed and nodded “You sure did... just V... I don’t want to be like that anymore. I don’t want to be in a room full of my friends who can’t stand me. I don’t want to be in a room with you and see you hate me...”

“I’ll never hate you Johnny. I’ll be there for you at all times no matter how much of a dick you’ll be okay?”

“Yeah. Yeah, okay. I trust you, sweetheart”

“Your time is up. You need to leave, take the chip with you” said Alt and before V could react she was back in her body.

V was staring at his hand again, her thumb drawing circles on it just as the door opened.

“Alright. That’s enough kid, you’re going out”

With a deep sigh V turned to see both Rouge and Kerry standing in the door.

“No. I’m waiting for him to wake up”

Kerry took a few steps towards the merc and put his hand on her shoulder “Rouge is right, V. You need to get out a bit, you’ve been here for two weeks”

She was silent as her grip over Johnny’s hand tightened.

“Please, honey. Let’s go for a walk at least. Or a ride to get something to eat” Kerry tried again, the worry on his face clearly visible.

“You won’t help Johnny if he wakes up to you looking like a corpse, at his bedside. So get your shit together, V” Rouge said. Even through her words here cutting, there was clear worry in her eyes.

V finally nodded and put Johnny’s hand back on the bed, as she stood up. Well tried to stand up. Because as soon as she moved, her head spun and Kerry had to catch her, before she smashed her head.

“Are you alright?” Kerry asked in pure worry as the nomad’s violet eyes almost rolled into her head.

“No she’s not. Come on, you we need to get her something to eat. I’m driving” Rouge said as she walked out the door, with Kerry picking up V and following her.

After that incident, both Kerry and Rouge were taking V out to eat and sleep out side the room in Afterlife where Johnny was.

Kerry basically moved V into his villa, along with her’s and Johnny’s cat. And Rouge was constantly getting V to sit beside her for at least few hours at Afterlife, as she was dealing with some mercs. Just to get her out of that room.

Judy and Panam also were constantly calling and messaging V, after Kerry and Rouge contacted them and told them what’s going on with the merc.

Panam came to sit around with V in the Afterlife. The bad blood between her and Rouge was quickly forgotten after the older woman saw how Panam was caring for the other nomad.

Judy preferred to visit V at Kerry’s villa whenever he was leaving. She didn’t even let the merc go to the bathroom alone, instead staying out side the door and getting V to keep the conversation going through the door.

One evening V and Kerry were sitting on one of his couches, with him playing and humming the same relaxing song that he did on the yacht.

“Hey, Kerry?” V asked as she stared at the way his fingers moved on the guitar.

“Yes, honey?” he asked immediately his eyes were on her.

She looked up and asked “Can you... uh... teach me how to play? I was thinking that maybe... Johnny would enjoy some music aside from the muffled banging at the Afterlife”

He smiled and his eyes got brighter as he nodded and moved closer to the young woman, saying “Of course! Okay so for now you’ll watch, then we’ll get you to try”

A week later, the nomad was already playing the one song that she learned on the guitar that she got from Kerry. She was even humming along as she sat in Johnny’s room, her long black nails now short and her fingers covered by bandaids from how hard she was learning.

She grinned and said to him, while playing “I know that I’m shitty. But you told me that it was all about the feeling or whatever”

V looked down at the guitar and started playing once again, when suddenly she saw Johnny’s fingers twitch. She immediately stopped and put the guitar aside, rushing to his side and taking his organic hand in hers.

“Johnny? Can you hear me? Squeeze my hand”

There was nothing for a while, but then she saw him frown a bit.

Immediately she called Victor and told him to come, the same thing with Rogue and Kerry. She stayed by Johnny’s side, telling him to squeeze her hand and that he’s safe, that his friends will be there soon. That she’s with him.

Rouge was the first one to arrive, as she was already in Afterlife. She walked over to V asking.

“Did anything happen?”

“His fingers are twitching every now and then, he’s also frowning whenever I tell him to squeeze my hand” V explained as she moved to caress Johnny’s hair, that she kept trimmed the same way it was when he was in her head. Same goes for the beard.

As her hand moved to to tuck a stray hair behind his ear, he let out a sigh and stopped frowning, his whole body relaxing.

“Well damn... it’s like he’s responding to your touch, kid” Rouge said, while sitting on the couch in the room observing the still unconscious man.

V’s eyes went wide as Rouge smirked, the nomad looked back to the rocker boy and whispered “I’m here Johnny, just come back to me. I still need to kick your ass for making me wait so goddamn long, and for that time when you smashed my head against the window. And no. Just because you were nice later, doesn’t mean that you’re off the hook old man”

Victor arrived soon with Kerry following. As the ripperdoc worked, the others waited. V and Kerry were both pacing, being the “impatient assholes” as Rouge called them. But the Queen of the Afterlife was also getting a bit impatient, which caused her to lit up a cigarette.

“The fuck is this...?”

Everyone in the room stopped and looked at the blinking and confused rocker-boy in the room. He raised a bit to take in his surroundings.

“Johnny...” V said and came forward with Kerry following.

For a moment Johnny stared at V in silence, then he looked down at him organic hand and back at her saying.

“I know you... you’re V”

Just as V was ready to let out a breath of relief, Johnny added.

“You’re the chick who was here with me the whole time. The one who played that shitty music today... or was it yesterday? I don’t fucking know... so what you’re a fan or some shit? Or did we fuck once?”

Everyone went still in the room, even Kerry stopped smiling as he looked at V with worry. The merc’s face was neutral as she just turned towards Kerry saying to Johnny.

“How about Kerry and Rouge ease you into most of it. I need to go out for a bit” with that she stepped away and glanced at Victor “Check him and the chip, once more okay? Call me if anything will be wrong, or need to buy anything”

V then smiled shakily at the confused Johnny and left the room, ignoring Rouge and Kerry who moved to follow or stop her.

Around two hours passed with V drinking in the bar with Claire keeping her company. She didn’t call Panam or Judy cause she knew that they would freak out and act as if V couldn’t handle shit.

Of course it fucking hurt to see Johnny like that. And to just not recognise her. Of course it’s not like she didn’t know that it would happen, but that stupid ass brain of hers was hoping that Alt was wrong.

“Maybe I’ll get you some water?” Claire asked, the angel she was.

V looked up and said “Another Jackie Wells”

Claire smiled tightly and made the drink, sliding it towards V.

Looking down at the glass V smiled bitterly. The only way she could be around her best friend was to drink his stupid drink, that he made her so many times and the way he fucking knew that she didn’t like it.

She felt a hand on her shoulder and she turned to see Victor standing beside her stool.

“Is he alright? His arm working? I have another model ordered for him, but—“

“He’s fine physically. His arm will need replacing but for now it should be fine” Victor said, while sitting beside her on a stool.

“And how is he handling being in the future?” V asked, her mind clearing immediately from all the alcohol.

Victor sighed “Not well... but it seems like Rouge and Kerry know how to talk to him. But I want to know how are you? We know that there’s a small chance that he would remember but still. How are you holding kid?”

V laughed bitterly saying “You’re all acting as if he was my husband and not ex parasite turned friend...”

“V...”

“What do you want me to say Victor? Yeah it’s shitty, but I’m still gonna help him out and he beside him. I don’t care what he has to say about that. But I’m fucking staying!” she said and finished her drink, standing up “I promised him that I wouldn’t leave him. I promised him that I wouldn’t hate him...”

With that she patted Victor on the back and walked back to the back room where Johnny was. She walked in and everyone was looking at her immediately.

“Honey—“

“Kid—“

Both Kerry and Rogue started, but V spoke over them.

“How the star of the show?”

Johnny snorted and looked at her in interest “My fucking head hurts and I’m staring at the chick who was my incubator for weeks”

“Johnny” Kerry scolded, not being pleased with the choice of words.

“Basically. Here, have one” V said as she handed Johnny a cigarette. He looked up at her with a frown, as she shrugged “Near the end, when were connected my head hurt without a cigarette. You told me that it’s because of the lack of nicotine, that you had the same thing”

Johnny took the cigarette and lit it up, sighing in relief “Fuck... maybe there is some truth to what these two are saying”

“We told the truth, Johnny. Now it’s up to you to live up to where you were inside her head” Rouge said.

Johnny snorted and glanced at V saying “Please. Some nomad kid couldn’t change me that much. I was probably playing nice so that she wouldn’t off me”

“Fuck, Johnny” Kerry sighned.

“What Kerry? That’s what I would do!”

V sighed and counted to 10 inside her head, already knowing that dealing with Johnny is going to be tough.

And she was right.

For weeks V was helping Johnny get accustomed to the year 2078. She got him a job, while he was living in the room back in the Afterlife. He refused to live with Kerry and V in the huge mansion, instead preferred to be close to the party. She got him a new arm and gave him his clothes, weapon and car back, while sticking around trying to get through to him.

Even after V told him everything. Johnny only claimed that it was bullshit and continued on being an asshole.

Of course the merc left out all about the kiss and the nights they spend cuddled in her apartment, after learning that they could touch.

Johnny went through many stages with V.

First he was aggressive and pushed her around, telling her to fuck off and find a life. She annoyed him with the way she would fight back but never left him alone. Never hated him.

Second was ignoring. He would treat her as if she wasn’t there and even fucked another girl with her not far away in the bar. Still she kept being around. Didn’t hate him.

Third was trying to annoying and trying to fuck her constantly. He would filirt and be a sarcastic dick at the same time. He would touch her and tell her all about his impressive dick. Once against she was still around, without any reaction to his actions. Not hating him.

The fourth and current stage was using her. He would call her in the middle of the night for her to came and get his drugged or drunk ass from some chicks apartment, street or bar. Every call. Every time. Every hour. She was there and got him home safely. Without hating him.

Until now.

It was 3AM and V was looking around the alleyway where Johnny said he was in. And there he was. With a girl keeling between his legs, smirking at her.

Even when V thought that her heart didn’t shatter anymore. It was broken beyond repair during all these times with Johnny. She felt it shatter once again as she flinched in pain. Still she simply turned and went to the car to wait for him.

Few minutes later he was in her car, grinning. Some time into the drive he said something that triggered her for the first time.

“Sorry sweetheart. You were getting late and she was so so lovely. Blonde all that, exactly my type”

V flinched as she stared down at her dark skinned hands, and the thick black hair that reached her breasts. The exact opposite of the blonde woman.

Also the word he called her for the first time since...

I trust you, sweetheart...

Sweetheart.

She stopped the car near Afterlife, saying “Go. Afterlife is near maybe you’ll sober up a bit after a walk”

“Ahhh getting tired of me sweetheart?”

She doesn’t know how she even did it, but in a second she turned and slapped him harshly. Screaming at him for the first time since he came back.

“Fuck you Johnny! I know what you’re doing! You’re pissed that I don’t hate you like your friends did back in the day! How I’m not leaving like Alt did, when you got too difficult to fix up! Do you know how I fucking know?! Because you were inside my mind. I saw all that pain and loneliness you felt! I know it! You even told me about it although you knew that I knew!”

“You don’t know shit!” he yelled, only to get slapped again.

“Quite the opposite, Johnny! I know all of your shit! And I’m not leaving! Or hating you!”

“Why?! Why?! Why won’t you leave?!”

“Because I love you!” she screamed tears escaping her violet eyes “And you just keep on hurting me... I throught that I can handle it... but maybe I was wrong...” she added quietly, looking away from him.

Then she raised her hand and took off his glasses, to look into his dark eyes as she whispered “I’m sorry Johnny... I tried so hard... I’m sorry that I failed you... sorry that I wasn’t enough... I hope that maybe you will remember some day and stop being what you’re now... I love you, always”

Johnny was so stunned by what happened that he didn’t react to V kissing him gently behind the ear, where the chip was and whispering.

“I’m so sorry, my love...”

Then she pulled away and got out of the car, walking away with stunned Johnny still inside her car.

•there will be part two so follow me or just check the tag “Johnny Silverhand x V”

•also English isn’t my first language so sorry for any errors.

#johnny silverhand x v #johnny silverhand #night city #cyberpunk kerry #cyberpunk 2077 #cp2077 #cyberpunk rogue #female v #angst with a happy ending

[ayellowcurtain]

I can be your lover

Part 5

6 months later

Robbe bites the corner of his bottom lip while staring down, pulling the skin of his thumb until it hurts, ripping it off, brushing the dead skin to the ground carelessly. He grew used to just sitting here and being watched, it doesn’t bother him anymore, not too much at least.

He doesn’t know what to say. He’s been coming to therapy every week in hopes it would help him figure himself out but he feels the worst he’s ever felt.

“I feel useless.” Robbe answers the question that he didn’t get today yet. It’s always the first one so he decided to spare them the trouble. He looks through his eyelashes, finding his therapist staring at him in disapproval of using words such as useless to describe himself.

“I feel like everything is out of my control so there’s no point in trying, really.”

There’s a long silence, a slow breath out and Robbe sighs, relaxing on his chair, meeting his doctor’s eyes, finally even if he doesn’t feel completely comfortable doing so. He feels uneasy, exposed and it bothers him to have to deal with it.

“What happened?” Robbe looks at the notepad on her lap, all his stupid insecurities and mental problems probably written down for anyone to read if given the chance.

“Me and Sander had a fight.” It was the worst fight ever, with them talking over each other and loudly. Robbe loves Sander the same but it feels like it’s really the end this time. They can’t go on like this anymore, Robbe is really at the edge. “I don’t want to do this anymore but I still love him so it’s just...fucked up.”

He does some of the breathing exercises he grew used to doing in the past few months like she suggests he to do often when he’s feeling like this but he knows it won’t help this time, he’s too deep inside his head to let the anger and frustration go every time he breathes out, pretending he’s also letting go of the negative thoughts about himself. He should have cancelled this session because it’s not working, not even talking about it makes him change his mind, see things differently.

He should have stayed home and studied for his finals, it would be a better use of his time. She gives him a notepad and a pencil to do whatever he wants with it: write, draw, scribble. She doesn’t say that but it’s obviously her way to keep him from pulling more skin off his fingers. It’s already a little too late, most of his fingers are burning already but he tries to keep his hands busy anyway, drawing random shapes and lines.

Robbe puts his pencil down when there’s no more room in the page to draw.

“I need to walk away. It’s for the best for both of us. I’ll block him everywhere so I can’t see things and I’ll just let him be while he’s away. And if he ever comes back, maybe we’ll talk if he also feels like it.”

“I think you should calm down, think about it for a few days and not make a one way decision when there are two people involved.” Robbe looks at her and gives back the notepad, “I think he would like you to hear what he has to say about your decision. You two have been in an intimate relationship for a while. Not just romantically but as very close friends.”

Robbe shakes his head, putting his hands inside his pockets, closing his fingers around his thumb until it hurts, “I can’t talk to him or I’ll change my mind.”

-

12 months later

Robbe drops his keys on the little bench he bought to put right next to his door, the exact same layout as it was when he lived with Zoe and Milan (and then Senne. And Sander.). It was another long day of college and work, the last one of an endless week. He turns the lights on and takes his shoes off, kicking them under the bench. Tomorrow he will clean and organize properly. For now, he’ll leave everything as it is. The good side of living alone. The rest sucks but Robbe will never tell anyone about feeling like that. He never thought he was the type to need people around him every day, all day until he had to come home to an empty apartment every night.

It doesn’t happen that often, especially on the weekends, considering his friends are all over the city these days but it happens too often for Robbe’s liking. Zoe and Milan are out of town together, Senne offered to keep him company but they would be two grumpy and tired men so it would be useless. Jens is out of town too, Aaron and Amber are not an option - Robbe can’t have a disgustingly in love couple around anymore - and Moyo is with Britt and Noor. It’s good to be alone sometimes, he tries to convince himself as he reaches the kitchen, opening the fridge. Nothing other than the beers at the bottom excites him so ordering something for dinner it is. Robbe is starving so he makes a very quick search of his phone and decides for the italian restaurant that promises to deliver his food in less than half an hour.

Robbe opens his first beer of the night and throws himself on his couch, looking around, feeling like it’s a new place all of a sudden. Sometimes it hits him that he has his own place now. And that he’s alone. Therapy has been helpful and he can tell the difference when he’s about to have some pretty bad days in the worst possible mood and when his reality is just underwhelming in his eyes and he’ll get over it soon enough. He never thought this would be his life. It’s not a bad one but it’s not what he had planned.

He forces himself to get up once he manages to change his mindset and he takes his clothes off, leaving it on the living room so it’s closer to the laundry machine once he’s clean. He turns some music on and puts it to play all over the apartment, putting his phone down, singing along to Bowie as he shaves the scruff that was starting to get out of hand on his face, he takes a quick shower and while he’s putting his clothes to wash, his food gets home.

Robbe rushes down to grab it and thanks the delivery boy, rushing back inside, lighting some candles just because they’re there, getting dusty and old. He never bothered to buy a dinning table because there’s a small island right there. He sits on the stool and eats, staring at his food and the candle in front of them. His instagram isn’t as updated as it used to.

A long time ago Robbe decided to give himself more time offline, focusing on college and his internship and he’s been good at keeping that mindset most of the time, afraid to spend too many hours per day online, looking for what he’s still having to choose, day in and day out, to keep his distance from so he doesn’t hurt Sander even more.

But he doesn’t care as much tonight, so he takes a picture of his dinner for one and the sad candle in front of him and posts it to his stories, locking his phone instantly, putting it down to eat in peace.

He keeps glancing at it, careful like it could burn if he dared to grab his phone and check. It would be a lie if he said he doesn’t miss Sander but he has learned to live with it. Long distance wasn’t going to work. Robbe is happy for the ones that can jump out of their comfort zone but he can’t and he’s okay with it by now, after months and months of therapy. The only thing he can do is not drag other people into living life this way too if they don’t feel like it.

Sander is happy somewhere else and Robbe is happy that he’s happy. Easy as that.

He eats his food and washes the dishes he left this morning right after or else he would get too tired to do it before going to bed and he doesn’t feel like waking up to a sink full of dirty dishes. He washes his clothes and folds them once they’re dry and warm out of the drier. Plays some video games, and finally crashes into his bed, searching for some comfort movie to watch as he falls asleep. He doesn’t last half an hour watching it, he’ll have to start again if he really wants to watch this movie some other time, but thankfully he had already scheduled his tv to turn off after one hour and a half.

He miraculously wakes up only once in the middle of the night and almost as an afterthought, like he would do so often when he was younger, Robbe grabs his phone to check for any new notifications. Robbe read a lot about algorithms when he had nothing better to do one day because it felt like it’s a theme lately so he knows it doesn’t mean shit but he can’t help but stare at the first name on the list of people who watched his sad dinner stories.

earthlinggoddity

There’s the red-ish circle around his name but Robbe puts his phone down, the screen still bright staring at his mattress as he rolls to the other side, pulling the heavy comforter to wrap around him like a tight burrito, and he closes his eyes again. If he’s still thinking about it tomorrow, with an awake and fully functioning brain, he’ll watch whatever Sander posted if it’s still there. He shouldn’t do it now, half asleep or Robbe won’t be able to go back to sleep thinking about how badly he misses Sander.

He can’t remember his dreams when he wakes up, it’s like he blinked and it was morning already. He feels rested but still mentally tired or empty, one of the two.

His phone is still right next to him, under the pillow he never uses and so he grabs it, checking the notification that just popped on his screen a few minutes ago from Moyo.

What are you doing today, my friend? Felt like we could go skate, smoke a little bit, for old time’s sake.

Robbe sighs, clicking on it, opening his conversation with Moyo.

That sounds like a perfect Saturday to me, my friend. Meet in one hour? I’m still in bed…

While he waits for the answer, the three dots already dancing on his screen, Robbe shakes his head. It’s still somewhat early, just now past eleven so he wonders if Moyo had any sleep. He does sound in a great mood though, Robbe is happy for him but also envying his enthusiasm about life, so early on a Saturday morning.

Jesus Christ, bro. You used to be an early bird. Working your ass off isn’t paying off, huh? One hour and don’t be fucking LATE!

Robbe knows what changed that he’s not an early, happy-chappy human anymore but he won’t bother anyone else with that conversation again. He pushes himself up to put some clothes on and go meet Moyo, making a pitstop for a quick breakfast on his way there.

#wtfock #robbe ijzermans #sander driesen #sobbe #robbe x sander #sobbe fic #a little shorter and a little sadder

[fandom-blackhole]

I'm back from my mandatory two day socialization recovery period required for all socialization even if I enjoy it. It's time for some Mermaid!Din au thoughts (No thots unfortunately but we'll live)

First off I love the isolation that the reader faces because of the lighthouse they live in. And I love how the townspeople being nice to the reader help give them a reason to stick around when weird things start happening.

I love how it took months before anything strange starts happening, like were Din and Grogu just not around or were they observing the reader. Did Din ever try to stop Grogu from damaging the lighthouse or did he let the little rascal do as he pleased.

· And gosh I love the idea of reader dressing in old worn clothing, a knit sweater with fraying sleeves, sweat pants covered in paint from repairs, an old windbreaker to help keep the cold out. It makes me heart all warm and fuzzy.

Edna, who i've head cannoned as this series Miss Chatham (H2O: just add water charter) is honestly life goals. Like live near ocean - check(ish), have rare knowledge that can be used to help new person - check, being just slightly spooky -amazing. And is that a little matchmaker I see her playing? I love it.

Then Grogu being injured :( I bet that Din is absolutely being eaten alive by guilt even though we all know it’s not his fault and he does literally anything he can to keep Grogu safe and happy.

And In love how Din is venerable enough to ask for help, like he recognizes that this is something out of his area of expertise so he goes to the person he knows is “safe” to get help. He’s humble enough to admit that he needs help and is not capable of doing everything for Grogu. And being able to admit that is an important life skill that not enough people have.

· But even after he ask the reader for help he is still hesitant which shows that even though hes trusting reader he will still kick (is it still a kick if its with a tail) the readers ass if he hurts him.

“But you can help him” Oh my heart the trust in that sentence. Like Din just heard, “so yeah I can help your son but I have to take him somewhere it will be hard for you to follow. And he needs to stay there for at least a week, and even if you manage to come its going to be so far from your natural element.” But he was still on board with the plan. And then he goes to climb on the rock so he can drag himself all the way to the light house because he can’t let his little boy go alone even if it means hurting himself to do it.

Reader was smart af for doing the old blanket slipperaroo trick

Reader immediately knowing something was up when she walked into town is so realistic. She literally is hiding a massive secret at her lighthouse of course anyone would be on edge walking back into society. Especially a society that already knows a little something about the secret. But them to amplify it. Miss Chatham to the rescue. She knows that reader is up to something and she uses her powers as an old lady with lungs and karen potential to scare off the problem for a little bit. The reader just placed so much trust on Edna by straight up telling her that she's housing Din and Grogu.

· Also that fool browsing the menstrual hygiene rack, like dumbass. Is this your way of making him miss every shot? Because we know that storm troopers are well known for their ability to miss every shot so making him automatically turn to tampons? Genius

Cashier for the win, like beep beep bitch now pay up

The "cyare" omg and then the reader warning Din about the cookies and him being so curious about them. The way Din is so perceptive of the readers mood that he is already able to tell that something is wrong. It was such a smart idea to have the reader lead with asking him to give her a small chance to calm down about what happened in the town.

Din and the reader low-key flirting and teasing each other at the end is so adorable. Grogu with the cookie absolutely melts my heart like of course that boy is hungry.

So this is a slightly polished layout of my stream of consciousness while reading this. Does it make sense? Probably not. But I love this idea and you have done it justice.

Ahhhhhhz thank you for all of the lovely thoughts and compliments, im glad you like my story and I hope it continuesto meet your expectations!!!! And you made perfect sense darling!

To reply to some things:

Honestly, I chose the isolation for two reasons, 1- it made sense, especially for how the plot is going to play out, privacy and isolation is needed, and 2- im introverted and I like being alone, so I just projected

The town's people are great! They are used to having lighthouse keepers just up and leave because of all the weird stuff, so the second that one sticks around they were all overjoyed, because like I said, a lot of the people work on boats fishing so the lighthouse is super important to them

Din did wait and observe the reader, wanting to know what to do when to attempt to scare them off. But also like no, he tried keeping Grogu away from the lighthouse as much as possible, not knowing what the reader might do to him, and just being a protective father, but we all know Grogu is a little shit and he snuck out before Din could stop him

Reader dresses in the COMFIEST clothes, and honestly, I am very much a sweater and comfy leggings kind of person, so again, something I am projecting

I love that you and everyone is loving Edna, she is definitely one of those cool old ladies that sneak you treats and shenanigans when no one is looking!

Also because idk if anyone has pointed it out.... in the last chapter I thought I was heavily hinting at it, but maybe it was more subtle than I thought, Edna and her MERMAID were alot more than friends *wink wink* she's gay as fuck and thats why she made the joke about not liking NUTS

Din loves Grogu, in and out of this AU, and it was 1000% not his fault that Grogu got hurt, in fact he was trying to protect him! Din definitely panicked and the first person that came to mind was the reader, and while he didn't know them, he knew for some reason they were safe to go to for help (as well as knowing the lighthouse would be a good place to hide while some things cooled down 👀), but Din will always be cautious because he is scared for his son

Din is just *chef's kiss* 👌, an amazing father who will do ANYTHING for his son, no matter what it takes

The whole blanket thing literally came from my childhood, thinking about how my sisters and I would drag eachother around on blankets, and I just thought it would be great for this scenario

Like the reader is gonna get real paranoid during this series, im not going to lie to you, things are gonna get rough, but Edna is the MVP she's one of those people that could pull your darkest secrets from you just by glancing at you, and the reader pretty much assumed she was safe to talk to after she had informed her about the food offerings

Ok ok, as for the dudes, I was too lazy to look up their names and stuff but they were these dudes from season 1 that gave Din Grogu's bounty: the first dude is the one 'hiding' in the women's hygiene section

Din is just obsessed for human food at this point, and he feels things for the reader even of he doesn't want to admit it quite yet

Din also may be oblivious as fuck, but he's also observant, hes a bounty hunter for fucks sake, he needs to be able to pick up on these things, so yes in my stories Din is really good at picking up on emotions, even if he doesn't fully know how to react to them

Im aiming for a slow burn foc, but to be honest with you all, chances are it is going to be a regularly paced romance, which for my writing is slow paced, so yeah the idiots are flirting and teasing eachother, but also like they will not be talking about or admitting feelings for at least a few more chapters

Grpgu deserves all the cookies!!! He's a growing tadpole, who has been magically healing himself while in a coma like state, so he hasnt eaten in days, and if he wanted he'd probably be able to devour 2x his body weight and then some, so a few cookies recieved in some kind of mysterious way are well achieved

Merman!Din Tags: @writeforfandoms @ahopelessromanticwritersworld @honey-goth  @mando-abs @lux-cream-67 @rachelle-on-the-run @katcharm   @ladamari68 @bluegalaxyprime @my-life-as-a-bird @altarsw @zarakem @stargazingthenightaway

(Added the taglist in case any of you guys wanted to read over my thoughts and things bc I have some hcs and cleared somethings up ypu may be wondering about)

#merman!din djarin #merman au #merman!din x lighthouse keeper!reader #and tadpole!grogu

[acabecca]

Daisy Milton + Bucky Barnes // Bittersweet

“Buck, do you have eyes on her?”

“No yet,” Bucky muttered in reply, knowing Steve could hear him through comms no matter how loud the gunfire and fighting was outside. “Can you hold ‘em back a little longer?”

“Long as you need, man,” Steve confirmed, and Bucky heard the distinct sound of bullets hitting his shield. “Just find her and get her out of there.”

Bucky didn’t say anything back, just nodded even though Steve couldn’t see him, and he pressed himself closer to the wall as he made his way down the darkened corridor, his gun held firmly in his grip. He knew she was down this way somewhere; Sam had sent that godforsaken robot bird in to scout the place so they weren’t going in blind, so Bucky wouldn’t be surprised this time, so nothing would distract him.

So he wouldn’t have the death of another of his teammates on his conscience.

He saw the room further up, the only one with the door closed, and he made his way towards it as carefully and quietly as he could before he nudged it open with his shoulder, his gun immediately aimed in front of him, his finger ready on the trigger.

It was empty, save for the person he was looking for.

She was on the ground, slumped against the wall, her eyes closed. Bucky spared one last, cautious look around the room before he tucked his gun back into the waistband of his tac pants and quickly walked over to her, crouching down in front of her and quickly untying her wrists.

“Daisy?” he murmured, his fingers brushing against her cheek where a bruise was already beginning to form. “Daisy, can you hear me? I- I need you to open your eyes for me, can you do that?”

“Bucky?” she croaked, rubbing at her wrists as she opened her eyes and tried to focus on him. “What are- when did you get here? You comin’ to rescue me?” she attempted to tease, groaning and clutching at her side.

He let out a breath of relief, his whole body relaxing as he sat back on his heels. “Steve, I got her. She’s a little beat up, but she’s okay. She’s conscious and being a pain in my ass already.”

“Nat’s bringing the jet round,” Steve told him. “Get her out of there, Buck.”

“We’re coming,” he said, but he reached up to his ear and turned his comms off as he turned his attention to Daisy. “Are you hurt? Can you walk?”

“I can walk,” Daisy winced, shifting up into a sitting position. “My legs are fine. It’s my ribs and- my head.”

Bucky reached out, his fingertips gently pressing against the blood at her hairline. “You hit your head?”

“He hit my head,” she grumbled. “It’s okay. I’m okay. You don’t have to act like you don’t wanna kick my ass for getting taken. You were right, I was wrong.”

He pulled his hand back and cleared his throat. “Can I get that in writing?” he cocked an eyebrow, and Daisy rolled her eyes. “Okay, listen, we don’t have much time before Steve realises I’ve intentionally turned him off,” he gestured to his ear. “Do you want me to save you, or do you want to save yourself?”

Daisy frowned, her hands shaking as she pressed her palm to her forehead and tried to work out if it was the bump to her head that made Bucky’s question confusing. “What?”

“Do you want to kill him, or do you want me to do it.”

It wasn’t a question; he was letting her know that one way or another, the man responsible for taking her, the man who had killed Sophia, wasn’t going to live past today, and Bucky’s voice was remarkably soft for the words he had spoken.

Daisy thought about the past twelve hours - how she had been grabbed from behind, knocked out, tied up, beaten. She thought about the man - Marcus - and how he had gloated about killing her best friend. He had asked Daisy if she would scream the same way Sophia had when he eventually killed her.

Daisy knew it was bullshit. She knew he hadn’t been anywhere near Sophia when he’d killed her, choosing instead to take a shot at her from a safe distance because he was too much of a coward to face the Avengers, which he had proven again when he had fled the second he’d heard they were here for Daisy and that the Winter Soldier was inside the building.

She wanted him dead, but that wasn’t the mission. The mission was to capture him, to bring him in alive and bring him to justice for all the deaths he was responsible for, not just Sophia’s. A thought flashed in the back of her mind that Steve would be angry with them, disappointed in her for even considering taking a man’s life when they could bring him in quietly.

But then she thought of Sophia. Her wonderful, beautiful Sophia. Her best friend and the one person Daisy knew she could always count on. She thought of the last six months without her. She thought of the looks on her parents' faces at her funeral.

She thought of how Marcus had grinned, gleeful as he’d bragged about pulling the trigger.

One look at Bucky’s face, and she knew what he was trying to say; Steve would never have to know the truth.

Her jaw set and her eyes hardened as she held her now steady hand out in front of her.

“Give me the gun.”

He didn’t hesitate as he did what she’d told him to and placed the gun in her hand before unsheathing his knife. When he caught the look Daisy was giving him, he raised his eyebrows.

“If you think I’m letting you do this alone, you’re insane.”

“I can handle it fine, Barnes,” she grumbled, wincing slightly as she climbed to her feet, pushing him away when he reached out to steady her.

“Oh, yeah, you’re the picture of health right now,” Bucky rolled his eyes. “Don’t argue with me. I’m coming with. Sophia was- I loved her. This is my fight, too.”

“Okay, fine,” she cocked the gun and pointed towards the door beside them. “He ran out of here maybe five minutes before you got here.”

“Then what are we waiting for?” Bucky gripped his knife. “Let’s go.”

taglist: @sgtbuckyybarnes @foxesandmagic @mer-writes@starcrossedjedis @jewelswrites-ish @marveloc-hq @ocappreciationtag (let me know if you want to be added/removed!)

#ocappreciation #marvel oc #bucky barnes oc #bucky x oc #bucky barnes x oc #idk what i’m tagging u know #this is my enemies to friends to lovers fic!!!! #idk what this is or what i'm doing lol i just have a lot of feelings for these two today #daisy x bucky #daisy milton #fic: bittersweet #anyway yes #let me know what u think!!!!! bye

[rainydayhogwartsimagines]

Fred x Y/N request: could you do one where they have been like friends w/ benefits or like together but not together where the reader really thinks he doesn’t like them but then they get sick/injured and have to go to the medical wing and is confused when Fred shows up? Like a little angst a little fluff!

P.s. love your work!!!!

THIS. IS. PERFECT.

Warnings: because of the fact that I cannot write about a penis to save my life and only been able to like once, there will only be implications that you have had sex. I apologize for being a pansexual disaster.

You and Fred. My God you were complex. Fred was your best friend. You loved spending time with the boy and hanging out with him. But you weren't just his best friend though. You were a friend with... Benefits. You two had some... Fun ways to pass the time and before you ask: Yes, George was WELL aware of the situation. However there was a slight hitch in this wonderful little set up. One of you formed feelings. That was you.

You never said anything because... Well there's a reason why you're friends with benefits right? Not his girlfriend. Although, you are the only girl in his life when it comes to... That. You'd never say a word though. To be honest right now you were trying to weasel your way out of the predicament you were in. You were absolutely positive that if you remained friends with benefits with Fred while you had feelings you'd be wrecked.

You were walking down the hall, books in arms when you felt an arm around you. "Hi Fred." You said walking. "I will never be able to figure out how you are able to tell me apart from my brother." Fred chuckled. "to be fair: you're the goofier one." You said making him laugh. "what are you doing this afternoon? " Fred asked. "quidditch? remember today is the big game?" You said. "Right! Right! Are you... Ready?" He asked. "To kick Slytherin into the dirt? Yes Fred I am." You chuckled. "Well after the game maybe we can... Find some ways to celebrate." He suggested. You chuckled. "If that includes studying for exams, then sure." You said. "Oh come on Y/n, we haven't hung out in a while." He said. "Hang out as in... That. I know." You sighed. "No, we actually haven't hung out in general and it's like you've been avoiding me lately." Fred said. "I'm not avoiding you, my dad has been riding my ass about my grades." You lied. "Well maybe I can help you study." He suggested. You looked at him with a brow raised. "promise no distractions?" You said. "...I promise. Ish." He said. "Fred." You sighed. "I promise!" He said. You held out your pinkie and he groaned before making a pinkie promise.

Three hours later you were in the changing rooms. Quidditch. Your favorite sport. For some reason Harry was unable to participate today so you were the seeker. You cracked your knuckles grabbing your broom and walking out. "Ready to do this Love?" Fred asked in your ear making you jump. "Wait what did you just--" "MATCH. START!" the announcer yelled and Fred flew off. You were watching the others play for a while, waiting to see that gold glint when your broom shifted forward. "Uh... What the--" your broom tilted and you screamed, catching Fred's attention. Someone was hexing your broom. "SHIT!" you gasped as you narrowly missed the crowd. That's when you noticed Pansy. That bitch. You gripped the broom trying to gain more control to get it away from the stands when it launched straight up. Well at least now you were away from the crowd. You growled, gritting your teeth when your broom went ballistic. You screamed, holding on for dear life before you saw the gold glint beneath you. You had to come up with a plan and fast. So you did the most logical thing you possibly could.

You let go. You fell down, releasing a loud thud in response. Fred's heart dropped seeing this as the game came to screeching halt. He sprinted to you lifting you into his arms before you spit something out of your mouth. Grass mostly... And the golden snitch. Fred let out a relieved laugh and you chuckled before wincing. "Ow. Ow ow ow." You whined. "Where does it hurt dear?" Madame Pomfrey asked. "is everywhere a conclusive answer?" You asked. "Oh dear, we should get her to the medical wing." Mcgonagall said.

Just like that you were hauled off the team all cheering as you left. "That was one hell of a way to win a match!" George laughed. "Yeah... I suppose.. but she shouldn't have been so reckless, what the hell was she thinking!?" Fred asked. "Careful there. I'm beginning to think you've got feelings for Y/n." George teased. "....." Fred's silence made George raise a brow. "...You actually do have feelings for Y/n--" "KEEP IT DOWN GEORGE!" Fred said. "sorry! But seriously? I thought you two were just.... Uhm... Not involved. Romantically?" George said. "We're not....." Fred said. "I'm sorry how does this arrangement of yours work?" George asked. "....We sleep together platonically and then spend time together as friends." Fred explained. "....And by sleep together you mean--" "Sex George. I mean sex." He sighed. "Okay. And you have feelings for her?" George said. "For the 100th time, yes." Fred groaned. "when did you start feeling this way?" George asked. "Last month. After she..." He shook his head with a laugh. "She smacked me with a book after I made a joke and I just looked at her... And I knew I wanted to be with her." Fred said. ".... Well tell her then!" George said. "What?" Fred asked. "Tell her! Come on Fred we're always saying to live like we're dying! You're going to regret not saying anything later, so just tell her." George encouraged. "I don't think you know how absolutely terrifying that is." Fred said. "Sure I do. How do you think I felt when I asked Angelina out?" George said making Fred's eyes wide. "You crazy bastard-- you finally did it!?" He asked. "Yeah. Just tell her Fred." George said. He sighed and looked in the direction of the medical wing. "I can do this!"

"I can't do this." He whined to George in front of the medical wing. "Yes you can." George said. "No I can't George, my legs won't move!" Fred said. "Oh! Alright then." George said. Thank god. This was over-- George kicked Fred forward into your view and you rose a brow. "Fred?" You asked. "Uhhhhhh.... Hi." He waved making George snort. "Sorry for worrying you out there. I think Pansy Parkinson hexed my broom." You shrugged. "Did you find anything wrong?" He asked. "Broke my arm. From the fall. Ironically my arm was what broke my fall." You said. "Here you go dear." Madame Pomfrey said handing you a glass of Skelegrow. You drank it and coughed, wheezing as you did. "Christ that is disgusting!" You whined. "It's not butterbeer Y/n, it's medicine." Pomfrey sighed walking away. Fred pulled up a seat and you rose a brow. "You're staying?" You asked. "My best friend is hurt, yes I'm staying." Fred said. You smiled and sighed looking out the window. "Something wrong?" Fred asked. "....This is really cutting into my study time." You groaned. "....Wow." Fred laughed. "I swear Hermione is really beginning to rub off on me." You sighed. You looked at Fred. "uh I did have a question though." You said. "Hmm?" Fred asked. "Before the game... Did you call me 'love'?" You asked. Oh fuck. "uhm... Maybe, it probably just slipped out." Fred said. George facepalmed. "Fred you fucking idiot." George muttered to himself. "Alright. Just threw me off guard you've never really called me... Anything like that" You shrugged. "Sure I do. Gorgeous, darling, sweetheart." Fred listed. "No, I mean those are usually used sarcastically or when we're...." You cleared your throat. "I'm reading too much into this." You said. Oh. Oh! OH. SHE'S LAYING DOWN THE GROUND WORK! "Maybe... You're not reading too much into it?" Fred suggested. "...What are you saying Fred?" You asked. "Maybe... During all of the.. fun, someone started liking the other one?" He said. "You knew!?" You gaped. Fred rose a brow. "What!?" He asked. "You've known this entire time!? Christ how obvious was I being here!?" You said. "Wait you like me!?" He asked. "Wait-- I thought you were-- YOU LIKE ME!?" You said surprised. "Yes!" Fred said. George snorted and you blinked. "I don't believe this-- You and I like each other." Fred said. "I guess we do!" You laughed. "So... Does that mean we're... A thing?" He asked. "Only if you want to be." You said. "Of course I do Y/n." Fred said. You smiled and George finally popped out scaring the both of you. "FINALLY." He said. Wood emerged from behind him. "You made me lose a bet." He said sighing. "What bet?" You asked. "we thought Fred wouldn't say anything until next year!" Wood groaned handing George some galleons. Fred rose a brow. "You were betting on my love life?" Fred asked. Uh oh. "....George you are so dead--" "RUN"

#fred weasley #fred weasley x reader

[salvejoon]

Life is Beautifully Ugly (At Times) - pjm | 01

⇒ Warnings for this chapter: Death of minor characters, mentions of a car accident, losing a loved one, a child being orphaned, cursing, Jimin being an ass, reader being a bitch.

⇒ A/N: Hey lovelies! I’m back-ish! I’ve been working on this project for months now and I’ve finally found my muse again and so I got to writing more and more chapters for this. Please enjoy the first chapter of hopefully my first series (but not my last). xoxo

“Imo!” Your head shot up at the happy squeal and you bent down to one knee, opening your arms, almost toppling over at the force your niece ran into you.

“Oof!” Your arms closed around her and she buried her nose in your hair as her arms went around your neck, “Hello my pretty little flower.” You drew back and nuzzled her nose with yours to which she frowned. 

“I’ve grown 1 inch so I’m not little anymore.” 

“You’ll always be my pretty little flower, Hyejin. No matter how tall you get.” You picked her up as you stood, groaning briefly as you adjusted her on your hip, “But you are getting a little bit heavy.”

Hyejin giggled, “Appa also says I’m getting heavy. Says his back hurts.” 

“That’s because your Appa is getting old.” 

A hum came from the doorway and you saw Han, your brother-in-law, standing there, looking dapper in a black and white tux, his natural black hair swept back from his face, “You’re the one to talk, Y/N. You’re closer to 30 than I am.” 

You rolled your eyes, “No need to remind me, Han.” You said just as your younger sister, Charlotte gently pushed Han out of the doorframe, looking a little bit frantic, “Missing something?” You asked her as she walked over to the vanity, opening several drawers.

“My watch.”

“The one laying right in front of you?” 

Charlotte sighed heavily as her eyes landed upon her watch, “Thanks.” 

“What would you do without me?” You smirked as she walked over to you and took Hyejin from your arms and her daughter protested with a small whine.

“Can’t I go with you, Eomma?” She asked and glanced longingly at you and her father, “I also want to go to the ball and look pretty.” 

Charlotte chuckled and kissed her forehead, “Another time, baby. This is for grown-ups only.” 

“Why is it always only for adults? I want to go too!” She protested loudly, crossing her arms and pouted.

You ruffled her hair, “How about you and I play dress-up tomorrow, hm? How does that sound? I’ve bought new shoes you can try.” You winked at her and Hyejin’s pout slowly vanished. 

“Can I put make-up on you, Imo?” 

“Sure.” 

Charlotte put her down and bent down just as the doorbell rang, gently wiping her daughter’s hair back from her face, “You be good to Mrs. Shin, okay? We’ll be back before you know it.”

“Yes, Eomma.” 

You absentmindedly stared out the window as the limousine drove through one of the high-end districts of Seoul. Closed off ground containing High-Rise buildings towered the streets and in between, they were grand mansions. 

You felt out of place here, in this part of town.

You preferred Han and Charlotte’s apartment in the more affordable part of Seoul. 

“Y/N.”

You hummed at the sound of your sister’s voice.

“Promise me you’ll be nice.” 

You shifted your gaze to her and raised a brow, “When am I not nice?” You asked and shook your head when Charlotte sent you a knowing look, “Oh please. Just because he’s going to be there doesn’t mean I won’t be nice.”

Han snorted, “The last time you saw each other, it ended up in the tabloids.” 

You glared at him and tch’ed, “Your brother called me - me - a prude, and I simply wanted him to teach him some manners.”

“You don’t teach someone manners by threatening them, Y/N.” Came the rational voice of Charlotte. 

This time you snorted and rolled your eyes, “Wow, you two really take his side.” 

“We are not but you two should bury that hatchet, whatever it is. He is actually nice once you get to know him.” 

“He’s a conceited asshole that needs to be beaten down a peg or ten. There is nothing nice about him.”

“Y/N…”

“Yeah, yeah.”

There was once a time where you would have taken in the beautiful surroundings of the ballroom with all it’s marble and gold, tall doors, and crystal chandeliers and would have felt like a princess. 

But this wasn’t your first rodeo at a gathering such as this nor would it be your last. 

You hated them now. Well, not hated but found them so superficial because all it was was rich people prancing around with their noses in the air while they had a pissing contest of who had the most money, the fastest car, the grandest of mansions, or the youngest wife.

“Smile.” Charlotte noted as she sat down next to you, followed by Han who had finally managed to break free of one of the old ladies' claws, no doubt talking about finances.

You plastered on a fake smile but said smile quickly vanished when you spotted a familiar face approaching the table. 

You tried to hide your scowl as the man came up to the table, dressed in a burgundy-colored suit that cost more than what you earned in a year, his ears adorned with silver dangling earrings with matching diamond rings on his fingers. The last time you had seen him, he’d donned blonde hair but now it was gray and it was swept back neatly, showing off his face. 

And he had a new chick on his arm.

No surprise there.

Park Jimin was one of the biggest fuckboys you knew, if not the biggest. 

He dragged his eyes from his date to you and a knowing smirk spread on his lips when he saw your scowl. No doubt he was already planning various ways to piss you off. 

“Jimin. Nice of you to show up…” Charlotte glanced at her wristwatch, “20 minutes later than we agreed upon but it’s better than an hour like last time.” 

Jimin removed his eyes from you and looked at your sister with an innocent smile, “I apologize, Charlotte. Things dragged out at the board meeting.” The woman on his arm tugged at it, “And may I introduce Jisoo. My date.” 

Han bowed his head and your sister smiled sweetly at her and you… Well, you ignored them. 

That was until Charlotte jabbed you in the ribs, “Ow! Hi, whatever.” You grumbled, glaring at her before meeting Jisoo’s smiling face and forced your lips upwards. 

“As formal as ever, Y/N.” Jimin drawled before sitting down across from you, his smirk back on his lips, “Where is your date?” 

“I came alone.” You answered stiffly. 

He scoffed and leaned back in his chair, “As usual.” 

Arrogant asshole. 

“At least I’m not fucking my way through the female population of Seoul.” 

Jisoo opened her mouth to object but a tap on the mic shut all of you up and you just aimed a glare at him. He met you with one of his own. The tension rose at the table and you heard your brother-in-law sigh softly. 

“It’s going to be a long evening.” You heard him murmur. 

The hours dragged on and so far you’d listened to four long speeches, three performances by some musicians you had never heard of, and had Charlotte remind you of your promise ten times.

You found yourself sitting alone at the table, date-less while your sister was out dancing with Han and Jimin had vanished. 

Probably aiming the money-shot between his date’s breasts.

The image of that left a bad taste in your mouth, so you focused on the dancing people on the floor.

You could easily find a willing dance partner. There were loads of young bachelors at such an event like this but they were so boring to you. You didn’t care about numbers, board meetings, or future merges. Charlotte had given up trying to set you up long ago since you scared most of them away. 

You deemed your independence a part of your charm. Charlotte didn’t agree. 

The ironic part was that the only man here, that could keep up with you, was an arrogant dickwad with a stick so far up his ass, he could pick his teeth with it. 

And he was probably fucking his date at the toilet. There you go again with those thoughts. 

“Ugh.” You shuddered and willed the images away as you picked up your wine glass and took a sip. The best thing about these events was the free booze. 

Too bad you weren’t allowed to get hammered because the last time you got shitfaced, you had dragged Jimin by his collar, trying to get him outside so you could ‘rearrange that stick’. The tabloids had a field day with that instance. It hadn’t been the first time you had threatened to kick his ass and you doubted it would be the last. 

Jimin just knew how to push the right buttons. 

“No one has asked you for a dance yet?” 

Your left eye twitched in annoyance, “No. Not yet. Are you offering?” You asked as you looked at Jimin with a raised brow. 

“No. I prefer my dance partners to be more… graceful. I don’t like getting stepped on.” 

“But I can be graceful, Jimin.” 

“Oh? When?” He asked as he sat down in the chair and crossed his legs. 

“When I step on your throat, choking the life out of you.” 

“Kinky, Y/N. I didn’t know you had it in you.” 

You scoffed and leaned back in your chair, “Where’s your date? Recovering from having your filthy hands on her body?”

“And if she is?” 

“Then tell her I know a therapist.” 

Jimin threw you a glare, one you returned with an unimpressed, bored look, “She’s in the restroom.” 

“Trying to wash away her sins, no doubt.”

“Are you jealous, Y/N? You seem oddly fixated on my sexual interactions.” 

You picked up your wine glass and shrugged, “For me to be jealous, Jimin, it would require I had some sort of feelings for you, which I do not other than absolute disgust.” You downed the rest of the wine that was in the glass, deciding you were done entertaining him, “And I’d undoubtedly get more satisfaction by watching old men dance with their young wives than having sex with you.” With that you rose from the table. You flicked a strand of hair over your shoulder as you put your bag on the table, “Now be a good boy and look after my belongings.” 

“Where are you going?” He asked stiffly. 

“To dance, of course. Might step on a toe or two but what the hell.” 

Your escape from the table hadn’t gone as smoothly as you had hoped because Charlotte and Han were nowhere to be found, the men that had approached you were either 60 and above and the bartender hadn’t seemed particularly keen on entertaining you with small talk. So you opted to venture outside instead. 

The air was chilly and you shivered a little, rubbing your arms to regain some heat as you looked up. The sky was clear and the stars twinkled while the moon showered the ground in it’s white glow. It was a pretty evening, really. You had the sudden urge to just lay down on the grass and stargaze. 

You felt something heavy being draped over your shoulders and you turned around to see a pair of dimples and a bright smile. 

You knew those dimples.

And that smile.

Those kind, warm, honeyed eyes. 

Your heart sped up. 

Before you could open your mouth to greet him, Namjoon booped your nose, “Thought I saw you dash outside. Are you avoiding me?” 

You shoved his shoulder, albeit gently with a smile on your lips, “Duh. Of course, I am avoiding you.” 

He frowned, “The sex can’t have been that bad.” He pouted.

You rolled your eyes, “It was terrible. Absolutely terrible.” 

“You really know how to hurt a man's pride, Y/N.” He chuckled and enveloped you in a tight hug, “I’ve missed you.” 

“I’ve missed you too, Joonie. I haven’t seen you in, what, 3 months?” You drew back, “I didn’t know you were attending the fundraiser.”

Namjoon kept his arms around your waist as he sheepishly smiled down at you, “I wasn’t planning on attending since I am so busy lately but when Han told me you’d be here, I had to come.” 

“Aw, my little Joonie bug.” 

He let go of you and you stepped back, “So how is the partnership coming along?” You asked, standing next to him, “Charlotte told me you’ve been super duper uber busy.” 

He sighed, “I have been so fucking busy and work has just been taking up all of my time and I am so tired of it.”

“Oh, Joonie.”

“But I can now call myself partner and a board member of Kim & Co Lawyers.” 

You squealed, your arms finding purchase around his neck as you jumped up and down of excitement, “OH MY GOD! CONGRATULATIONS!” 

Big hand engulfed your face and squished, “Thank you but calm down, sprout. No reason to entertain the whole neighborhood.”

“Buf u gos te parfership.”

“Yes.”

“lso yo ar ruinf te makuf.”

“I am fully aware of that, sprout.” 

“Le gof.”

He chuckled and let go of your face, placing his hands on your shoulders instead, “Thank you. But how are you? Charlotte told me you’d be expanding the brand soon.”

You grinned and nodded, “Yes! I am so excited but at the same time also a little sad. That shop has been my bread and butter for 4 years now but it was about time I listened to my sister and expanded… With the help of some investors, of course.” 

“Well, I am looking forward to seeing you take over the world, Y/N.” 

You snorted and grabbed his hand, “Pfft, I think I’ll just deal with getting my designs on the interwebz first and see how that goes. Now let’s go get some wine and talk shit about other people.” 

“There you are!” You and Namjoon halted your conversation as Charlotte appeared between you, “We’ve been looking for you.”

You smiled sheepishly, “Sorry, sis.”

She glared but there was a teasing glint in her eyes, “Joonie has a habit of stealing your time.” 

“I’m like the most important man in her life, what did you expect?” Namjoon rolled his eyes as Charlotte bumped his shoulder, “Not in the way you want, woman.” 

Your sister huffed and shook her head, “What do I have to pay you to marry Y/N? Seriously, you’re like the only guy that can keep up with her shit and not want to run away.”

“Who says I don’t want to run away?” 

You slapped his arm that was draped over the bar counter, “Fuck you. You love me.” 

“I do but not enough to get my dick wet.” 

“That monster you call a dick wouldn’t fit anyway.” 

“Thank you, I guess, for calling it a monster, Y/N, but I would have made it fit. Preparation is key.” 

“That’s what I keep saying. Foreplay is an important part of-”

“Alright, I clearly interrupted something here so I would just like to give you the heads up and Han and I are going home.” Charlotte interrupted you and leaned in to kiss you on the cheek, “He’s drunk and I was getting tired anyway.” 

“Sure. I’ll see you back home.” You said, wiping at your cheek before turning it towards Namjoon, “Do I have a stain?”

He shook his head before accepting a peck on his cheek from Charlotte, “Nope. Looking smooth as always.” 

“You make sure she gets home safely, Joonie.”

“You have nothing to worry about.”

“And not too late, okay?”

“Bye Charlotte! Love you!” You called as she wandered off, dragging a swaying Han with her towards the entrance.

Jimin sat at the table, Jisoo at his side. He had tuned most of her blabbering out, finding the topic ‘what shoes to wear to her friend’s wedding’ quite boring. Instead, his eyes were trained on the dance floor where not many people were dancing. 

More specifically you and Namjoon that was talking more than dancing and he saw you smile, laughing at how your dance partner seemed to trip over his own feet. 

He scoffed. 

“Are you listening to what I’m saying, baby?”

“Of course, Jisoo. The red pair of shoes sounds good.” 

His phone vibrated in his pocket and he fished it out, eyes narrowing at the number, he swiped his thumb across the screen.

“Yes?” He said. 

“Jimin, hey, it’s Seokjin.” 

“I could see on the caller-id.”

There was a brief pause and Jimin held up a hand to silence Jisoo when she yanked at his arm. Then there was a beeping sound and the sound of doors being banged open, “Jin, what’s going on?”

“Sorry about that… I don’t know how to say this but you need to come to the hospital.”

“Why?” 

“It’s your brother. Jimin, you need to come and quick.” 

His throat felt as dry as sandpaper as he stood up and hung up, eyes darting to your dancing and laughing form on the dancefloor. 

“Jimin, baby, where are you going?” Jisoo asked him as he took a step, her hands clinging onto his wrist. 

“S-Sorry, I have somewhere I need to be.” He answered, his voice shaky, “I’ll arrange for someone to take you home.” 

“Wait!” She called out as he ran towards you.

You were laughing so hard at how Namjoon had just tripped over his own two feet again when Jimin appeared, seemingly out of nowhere, grabbing your wrist, “What the fuck?” 

“Fun time is over.” Jimin said and tugged you with him as he headed towards the exit.

You yanked your wrist free, Namjoon appearing at your side, “Um no, it isn’t. What’s with you?” You asked him. 

Jimin looked at you and Namjoon, “Y/N.” You raised a brow at the tone of his voice… He sounded scared, “We have to go now.” 

“Did something happen?” You immediately grew worried because Jimin never sounded scared. 

“Seokjin just called me and… Something happened with Han and Charlotte.” 

You had never felt such fear. 

The ride to the hospital was tense and quiet. Jimin drove like a maniac through the streets of Seoul while Namjoon had tagged along as support. The two men sat in the front of the car, exchanging no words whatsoever, leaving you to your thoughts running rampant. 

Then you arrived at the hospital and everything happened so quickly.

A drunk driver collided with their limousine.

Their driver was killed on impact. 

Charlotte and Han were in critical condition.

You had no idea how much time had passed from when you had arrived to when you were sitting on the chair outside the ward, Jimin prancing back and forth like a caged animal.

Then the doctor appeared from the ward and Namjoon was quick to leave your side, going to talk to him.

You stood up, watching as they talked and you felt Jimin’s presence next to you.

Time seemed to slow down when your eyes locked with Namjoon’s, the sadness in his eyes conveying the message you had yet to receive but you knew. 

They were gone. 

You could feel someone wrap their arms around you as you tumbled to the floor, your own piercing wail deaf to your ears as you felt your chest implode on itself with heartbreak. 

Jimin struggled to keep you upright as you collapsed, your cries so very loud in his ears but it didn’t matter. He felt like he couldn’t breathe. He didn’t need to hear why you had broken down. It was clear as day by the way Namjoon looked. 

His brother was gone. Your sister was gone. Both of them were gone. 

You cried out her name and Jimin tightened his hold on you when you tried to crawl away from him. 

He might not like you and you may not like him but he knew that you should not go through this pain alone. So when you clutched his shirt so tightly in your balled fists, your cries finally lowering to whimpering and you buried your head in his chest, Jimin held you tight.

The feeling of time was lost on you when you entered Han and Charlotte’s apartment. Your mind was empty and you were pretty sure your heart had stopped beating. 

Mrs. Shin appeared as you took off your shoes and placed your purse on a small table. She looked puzzled upon seeing you, and only you, return. 

“Where is…” She trailed off as you grabbed her hand. 

“They’re gone.” Was all you said and her shoulders sagged as she moved her free hand to cover her mouth, “Is she sleeping?”

“She is.” 

You nodded and walked past her, down the hall, towards Hyejin’s room. The door was slightly ajar and you slowly opened it, finding her room dark except for a small lamp in the corner. 

She hated the dark.

Like Charlotte. 

You felt tears stream down your cheeks at the thought of your sister but willed them away. You had to be strong now for Hyejin. 

Nothing else mattered.

Hyejin woke up when her mattress shifted and she turned her head, rubbing one eye, “Eomma?” 

“No, honey. It’s me.” 

She sat up, looking puzzled, “Where’s Eomma? She always comes to kiss me goodnight.” 

You opened your arms and closed them around her tiny frame, “I know.” You placed your head upon hers and took a deep breath, “Listen, sweetie…”

#jimin x reader #jimin x fem!reader #jimin angst #oml its here