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jlalafics · 2 years

Note

you prev. said you would write haymitch/katniss father-daughter. how about a drabble where he begrudgingly tells her he loves her?

Hi! This is totally unedited...so excuse the mistakes. I hope you like this angsty little bit.

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Trigger Warning: Late-term miscarriage

It's unnervingly quiet when he steps into the Mellark home.

Haymitch closes the door softly, heading into the living room where Willow is trying to get six-year-old Rye to eat his lunch. He muses over the siblings, thinking how much they are like their parents. His sweet Willow, only ten, but already trying to run the house and take care of everyone. She is Peeta’s girl, through and through, and is often seen about the town making bread deliveries with her father.

Then there is Rye, stubborn like his mother, but fierce and loyal to a fault. Just like Katniss.

Haymitch has run out of fingers counting the number of times that Peeta and Katniss have been called to the local school. Often, the boy is in trouble for using several simple items as non-lethal weaponry. However, most of the time, Rye is defending someone who cannot defend themselves.

He lets out a soft whistle and the Mellark children jump from their seats to join him.

“Rye won’t eat his sandwich,” Willow immediately informs him.

“I want a cookie,” Rye states firmly.

“Rye, you get what you get, and you don’t get upset.”

Haymitch grimaces at his words. He never thought that he’d be lecturing children about sandwiches. His forte was trying to keep them from dying in an arena, and he was no expert on that.

However, for these kids, he will be firm but gentle. Haymitch will let them sit on his lap and give him kisses.

He will let them call him Grandpa, knowing his blood runs through neither of their parents’ veins.

What is blood anyway?

There’s a small shuffle upstairs and each pair of eyes looks to the ceiling above them. Willow and Rye each press against him, sandwiching him between their tiny bodies, and instinctively his arms wrap around each of them.

“Momma was crying,” Willow explains, her blue eyes shining. “It’s been like that since this morning.”

Haymitch struggles to find the words, not sure how to explain what happened. Instead, he nods and gives Willow a gentle squeeze.

“Don’t you worry, sweetheart,” he assures her. “We’ll figure it out. That’s what families do.”

He leads them into the dining room, sitting Rye down with his sandwich and Willow with her schoolwork. It’s better that they stay away from the sitting room where their parents’ room sits above. With a kiss on each of their heads, Haymitch heads upstairs.

Reaching the top of the stairs, the bedroom door opens and Peeta steps out. His usual easy expression is absent as he meets Haymitch’s eyes.

They meet in the middle of the hallway, and he gives Peeta’s shoulder a gentle squeeze. “How is she?”

“It happened this morning,” Peeta explains quietly. “Mrs. Everdeen helped her through and gave her something for the pain.” His mouth shakes, his chin trembling as he tries to hold back his tears. “There was so much blood, Haymitch—” His fist presses to mouth, and Peeta’s eyes squeeze shut as to keep himself from breaking. “—and I couldn’t do anything but watch—"

Haymitch pulls the man to him; lets him struggle to try to keep afloat in his pain. There are no words or gestures that will make this moment better.

For years, Katniss never wanted children. Before it had been because she could never submit a child to a Reaping Day and eventually to war. Then, Prim was killed, and she had mourned her sister’s death, unable to even look lest think of children with gold locks.

Years later, after much discussion and arguing, Willow was born on a summer night. It had been love at first sight for Katniss, and Haymitch saw the change happen before his eyes as he watched her snuggle the buddled baby to her chest.

When Rye came, he held his breath seeing the blond locks on the wailing baby’s head. However, Katniss had reached out, claiming Rye immediately from her mother and rocking him to a peaceful sleep.

They had settled in a somewhat peaceful life. There were chaotic moments—flashbacks and nightmares, reminders of the Games in the form of visits from former victors, and even an occasional phone call from Effie to say hello to the children.

All in all, their lives were peaceful and full of quiet pockets of happiness that he clung to whenever the need for the bottle called to him.

When Katniss and Peeta announced her pregnancy, unexpected to say the least, he gave them a congratulatory nod while brainstorming what wood to use for the crib.

By now, the couple was experts on child-rearing.

Then two nights ago, Katniss’ water broke. She was only in her fifth month.

And despite the rushed train ride from District 4, there was nothing Katniss’ mother could do.

This morning, Katniss delivered her baby, almost losing her life in the process.

“Will you sit with her?” His thoughts are interrupted by Peeta’s request. “She probably won’t say much but I know it would help to have you there.”

“Where are you going?”

“I have to make arrangements…for the baby—” Peeta lets out an anguished sob, quickly stifling it for his wife’s sake. “I don’t know where to start.”

“Go to the midwife,” he advises calmly. “She probably knows how to deal with something like this. Katniss’ mom isn’t familiar with District 12 anymore, so she won’t know anything about the proper procedures. Also—talk to Willow and Rye, they’re kids but they’re not stupid.”

Peeta gains some of his old smile back. “No, our children are far from dumb.”

The man descends the stairs and Haymitch girds himself as he steps toward the door. He isn’t sure which version of Katniss he’ll get—angry and volatile or weepy and despondent.

Knocking softly, he presses his mouth to the door. “Katniss, I’m comin’ in.”

Turning the doorknob, Haymitch enters the room swiftly, closing the door, and preparing himself for the hurricane that is Katniss Mellark, the Mockingjay herself.

However, she isn’t angry or volatile nor weepy or despondent.

Katniss is simply broken.

She looks at him, eyes red and swimming with sadness. “H-Haymitch…”

The quiver in her voice is enough to break him and he sits by her side on the mattress. The bed has long been cleaned and Katniss is in a fresh gown, but the room hangs heavy with death. It’s all there in the form of Katniss, barely holding on and blubbering into her pillow.

“What did I do wrong?” she sobs.

“Nothing—” He coughs, catching that bit of a quiver in his voice. “—these things happen, Katniss, and there isn’t any reason for it. They just do.”

Katniss wipes her eyes against the sleeve of her nightgown.

“I don’t know why I’m crying about this,” she snorts. “I was worried about this last one, not even sure that I had wanted it. When we found out, Peeta and I fought over what to do. I wasn’t sure I could handle one more. I had already drawn the line at two.” Katniss’ gaze goes to him. “Did I do this? Did I make this baby go away?”

“No.” His hand goes to her hair, smoothing down the bit of frizz. He used to do this whenever his little brother had a hard time sleeping. In minutes, Luca would be asleep. Haymitch has high doubts this will have the same effect on Katniss. “Of course not, sweetheart. You were happy. I saw it—that same light that you have in your eyes whenever you look at those babies downstairs. I saw it whenever you talked about this little one.”

“How can I face them, Haymitch?” Katniss buries her face in her hands before dropping them to look at him. “How can I tell them that the baby is gone? I don’t know if I could stand to show them how death looks. I thought that with the war being over, I had time to come up with reasons and explanations. I have nothing because I barely understand myself.”

“Come here.” Slowly, Katniss sits up and he puts an arm around her. “Whatever you say will be enough. They may not have grown up in a war but they sure as hell know who their parents are.”

“Half the fights Rye gets into are due to something said about us,” Katniss informs him. “I wanted to keep them pure, Haymitch. I hardly had a chance to be a child before I was thrown into an arena. I never wanted the same for them.”

“And it won’t be,” he assures her. “Because you love them, and you’d do anything to make sure that they are happy. And you’d make them understand that for every bad, there is a good.”

“There are worst games to play,” she says, almost to herself. Their eyes meet. “We will never get off this train, will we?”

“Maybe not,” he muses. “But the difference now is you’re the conductor. You can move in any direction you choose.” His eyes look around the room, at the photos of the children and the finger paintings placed reverently on their walls. Katniss and Peeta have a full life. It’s just hard to see right now. “Keep moving forward. There’s nothing left for you in the past.”

Haymitch can see the exhaustion taking over. Katniss is sagging against him, and he gently coaxes her to lay down before tucking her into her comforter.

She looks up at him, brows raised. “You’re being so nice. It’s weird.”

Haymitch stands. “It’s just what people do.”

“What do you mean?”

He was never one for sharing or feeling even though Effie tried to shove that shit right down his throat every train ride.

However, seeing how small and grey Katniss looks as she lies in bed scares him. They could have lost her. Peeta would’ve been without a wife and the kids with no mother.

And him?

She’s the only daughter he’s got.

“I-I love you,” he shoves out gruffly. “Of course, I’m going to take care of you. All of you.”

Katniss smiles, already half asleep. “Thank you, Haymitch.”

Haymitch turns, ready to leave, to let her rest.

“He was a boy.” His hand freezes at the doorknob. “Before all of this…we were thinking of naming him after you.”

He doesn’t reply, his throat too choked to respond.

Instead, Haymitch nods before stepping out the door and closing it with a resounding click.

One minute, he tells himself.

One minute to mourn.

Haymitch waits, letting the swell of tears spill onto his cheeks.

Thirty seconds to go.

He tells himself that they will heal and grow. One day, Katniss and Peeta will smile again. The memory of what once was will grow less and less painful as time goes by.

Twenty seconds…

Ten seconds…

Haymitch sees their future, bright and full of hope. He imagines what Willow will become, the smart girl she is. He thinks of the person that will see Rye for all that he is, full of loyalty and love.

He hopes that, much later, Katniss and Peeta might try again.

He sees himself, watching this family grow.

His family grow.

5…4…3…2…1

Haymitch gathers himself, feeling lighter now that he’s let himself imagine what could be.

Like Katniss said—there are worst games to play.

Taking a breath, he walks downstairs to make sure Rye and Willow are okay.

FIN.

#anon #request #tw: miscarriage #Post-Mockingjay #toastbabies #Everlark #Haymitch Abernathy #father-daughter relationships #District 12 #The Mellarks

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topazy · 2 years

Text

What we found

Pairings: John Murphy x reader x Emori

Warnings: Implied sexual content

Chapter: 4.06

“Y/N, stop that right now!” Your mother says in a fierce tone.

The smile on your face falls as you leave the other kids who are climbing trees and playing to find out what you are in trouble for now. “Nomi?”

Her arms were crossed as she gave you a disappointed look. “I thought you understood how important your training is.”

You pout, looking down at the ground. It wasn’t fair. You just wanted to be a normal child instead and have fun. You’d heard the stories of the Natblida from your clan before, but none of them lived to see their twenties. And you didn’t want that. You didn’t want to die a painful death like them.

You awake to the comforting feeling of someone running their fingers through your hair. You open your eyes and see Emori smiling.

“Hi.”

“Hey,” you say, slowly sitting up, your body aching from all the transfusions. “Have I missed much?”

“Everyone else is gone, and Raven had another seizure.”

“Is she okay?” You ask alarmed. You didn’t know the brunette well, but compared to the other Skaikru people that you’d met, she was good and kind-hearted. You didn’t actually class John as Skaikru, despite the fact that he fell from the sky as well.

“She’s fine now,” Emori says softly. “You look lost in thought. What are you thinking about?”

“I was thinking how the world is about to end,” you chuckle. “Before I ran away, I had this crazy idea that I’d just be free, you know, like I’d finally be able to have fun? Instead, everything is so bleak.”

The fear of the others dying because of Praimfaya and you being left alone had been plaguing your mind for days.

Emori gives you a mischievous look, “the world is ending is bleak…” She brushes a strand of hair behind your ear and leans in closer to you, “but you could still have some fun.”

“There’s not a lot to do around here.”

“I can think of a few things…”

You catch onto her line of thinking and press a soft kiss to her lips. Her hands land on either side of your face as she deepens the kiss. You’d never kissed a girl before, but something about Emori was special. She was cunning and loyal, and the tattoo on her face suited her perfectly.

As you pull a part just to catch your breath, footsteps approach. You thought Emori would move away from you, but she remained close. Murphy entered the room that looked down onto the rest of Becca’s lab and closed the door behind him. He looks at you both suspiciously and says, “What are you guys doing?”

You let out a giggle before releasing that maybe Murphy wouldn’t appreciate you kissing his girlfriend. “Na he na mad?” Will he be mad?

“No,” she says with a smile. “You’re staring, John.”

“I'm admiring,” he says as he walks towards you, a smug expression on his face. “It’s clear I’ve interrupted something.”

The next few moments pass in a blur. Every movement becomes a mixture of groping and kissing between all three of you.

When Emori stands to start unfastening her trousers, Murphy pulls your top off. His touch is surprisingly gentle as his fingers trace down your spine. His eyes were a gorgeous dark blue, but behind them, Murphy looked like he was drowning. This was the first time you’d seen a light behind them. Maybe he needed this as much as you did.

—

Murphy presses a kiss to your bare shoulder before looking over at Emori, who is staring down into Becca’s lab. “Come on, come back,” he says, winking at you. “I'm good to go again.”

“Your friend Miller should be back by now,” she sighs. “They're not coming back, John.”

He shrugs, “So we go to Polis ourselves.”

“The boat's on the wrong side of the water,” you point out. “We'll never make it.”

“Then I guess we will ride out the storm in the lighthouse bunker.”

Emori raises her brows, “for five years? We'll starve.”

“Who needs food when you have love, right?” He chuckles.

You lean back down onto the makeshift bed and scoff, “What a thing to say.”

Murphy rolls on top of you, “Neither of you were complaining about what I had to say an hour ago.”

You grin as Murphy starts to press kisses down your neck. You look over at Emori, who pushes down her obvious feelings of worry and crouches down to join you and Murphy.

—

You finish packing the last of the rations into a box that Murphy is holding. “We'll bring this stuff to the lighthouse and see what else we can find on the island,” he announces.

Just as you get ready to leave, Miller and Jackson walk into Becca’s lab.

“You guys ready or what?”

“Sorry, we're late. There have been some developments. Not all good.”

“Fill you in on the way,” Miller says, picking up one of the other boxes. “Is this everything we need?”

You nod, “yeah.”

“Great. Someone needs to go get Raven. We don’t have much time. We only have five days until our mass fiery death.”

“What a positive outlook,” you chuckle.

Murphy stays behind to get Raven as you and Emori walk out with Jackson and Miler. It felt surreal to you that you were actually going to the bunker. You weren’t going to be alone anymore.

#the 100 #john murphy x emori x reader #john murphy x reader #John Murphy x you #emori x reader #Emori x you #the 100 fanfiction #the 100 fandom #John Murphy #emori the 100 #murphy the 100 #john murphy/you #John Murphy/oc #john murphy x grounder #john murphy/reader #what we found

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talesofsonicasura · 2 years

Text

His Past

This is my entry for an event on a Discord server. If you want any info about the server in question then go check out @niouffi 's blog here on Tumblr. The Sun Wukong here can be whatever iteration you'll feel makes sense. Anyway please enjoy!

There was always something mystical about rain. It appears during a time of sorrow, to bring life to a dead wasteland, bring warning in the thunderous form and bring omens whether it be good or bad. Rain never came without a partner in some shape or form.

Upon a sacred temple, a place where various immortals learn and share their invaluable knowledge, rain decided to pay a monumental visit. To these wise ancient beings the sudden change in weather got everyone on high alert as the ocean nearby grew furious with once peaceful waves now a threat to ill prepared ships. An unnatural storm from how quick it appeared without warning.

Yet, there was one soul who watched this turbulence of nature with pure curiosity. A young woman with hair as blue as lapis held in two wild ponytails and a lower leg made of pure metal bearing resemblance to a bear. Clothing that told all who saw her one simple thing: she doesn't belong. A sentiment that the lady, Velanova Perse, could agree with no hostility.

It didn't help that she's mortal, thus making any chance to take sanctuary in this temple highly unlikely. Her metal leg would only bring unwanted questions just like her appearance so Sora took shelter in a small cavern forged into the cliffside by countless erosion. At that moment, she sat on the beach not too far from the temple watching the furious sea and the harsh rain in wonder.

A tarp made out of sewn together cloth kept her protected from the elements but also the sudden flashes of lightning. "Quite a fierce storm…just the way I like them." Her voice held a vibrant bounce to its soft honey sweet tone and airy pitch. A smile pressed firmly on Velanova's lips upon another flashing lightning bolt.

It quickly left her as a harsh beam of light struck the temple stairs. There was no sound nor any destruction. Something is coming. Whatever it may be, the young woman could feel a strange pull on her heart. Almost if someone or something is beckoning her. For a moment, Velanova carefully followed the call as she approached the temple.

She didn't get too close, just enough so the cyanette could peek around the corner and properly see the stairs. The woman shielded her eyes when another beam of light struck the beginning of the staircase. In a single moment, Velanova felt her heart tremble as a figure became visible within the dying pillar.

A monkey, specifically the demon/yaoguai kind, chocolate brown fur paired with a wild mane of hair from what she could make out. A powerful regal aura emitting from his still breathing form, the presence of a king. Velanova didn't stay long as she heard the shouts of 'Shifu', no doubt the students that live in the temple. She quickly ran before anyone could notice her eavesdropping form. The woman will probably not see the monkey again.

However the monkey who appeared in the light didn't leave upon awakening. He decided to stay at the temple for unknown reasons as Velanova would often catch glimpses of him. Whether she is foraging for food or watching the sea, the cyanette saw the monkey's figure. A foolish mistake on her part…

What Velanova didn't know was that the temple's newest occupant had seen her as well. The monkey wasn't just any yaoguai, he is the Handsome Monkey King, Sun Wukong. He had been flying to his home, Mount Huaguo, only for a strange unnatural storm to sweep him up. A force so potent that not only did it knock him off his Somersault Cloud but also unconscious.

Sun Wukong would think he was lucky to land at the seaside temple but it didn't feel like that. Upon returning to the conscious world, the Monkey King felt a powerful tug on his heart. A calling of some nature as it led him to the courtyard. And then he saw it… A woman with hair bearing a unique shade of lapis lazuli.

She was quick to disappear before he could follow her. Yet, this didn't stop Sun Wukong from spotting this peculiar lady again. The monkey would catch glimpses of her just long enough to draw a picture. Every sighting would add another detail to this mysterious cyanette. He had asked questions about someone living outside the temple to both its master and students. Every single one was completely clueless on the strange lady.

At this point, Sun Wukong had everything but the lower half of her legs fully drawn out. From the strange white shirt paired alongside a peculiar tealish green open hanfu, tealish green trousers, to even the strange accessories on her clothes. His favorite part had been the mysterious woman's eyes.

Greener than emerald yet held a shade to that of an apple. It didn't take much longer for the Monkey King to come to a decision. He must seek out this peculiar woman and unfold the mystery behind her.

Sun Wukong's quest had quickly become clear to Velanova. And the Perse woman wanted nothing to do with the monkey. It first began when she was hunting a wild boar. A sane person would steer clear of such an animal while unarmed but Velanova wasn't normal.

The woman held a unique power of her, to bring things to life using her mind. One such item being a special deck of cards that was always on the woman's person. Each card depicts fierce monsters to powerful spells and even dangerous traps. Velanova's deck shared one unique element to the cards it held, toys.

Childhood playthings that are cherished deeply but slowly grow hateful at the concept of being forgotten. Since it was only a simple boar, one monster would suffice for now. This creature is a giant teddy bear barely a foot taller than her with pink fluffy fur, white angel wings and a red handkerchief around his neck.

Her beloved Fluffal Bear that the cyanette affectionately calls 'Beary'. A childhood friend who at the moment helps her hunt for food. Velanova currently sat on the toy bear's back as he chased after the fleeing boar. At first the large beast stubbornly fought back but only earned deep gashes to the side for its trouble.

Beary however was unaffected from the boar's tusk enforced charges. It realized that fighting the toy is completely useless and went to flee. Velanova wasn't going to let her food stock for the month run away though.

She grabbed a large tree branch from a nearby tree and steady her arm. Once Beary got close enough, the woman then tossed the stick like a javelin. It soars through the air before crashing down on her intended target: the boar's hind legs. The large animal tripped on its feet from the sudden hit and gave Beary the chance for the final strike.

"Attack with Teddybear Pummel!" Massive plush paws came down on the boar's head as the toy bear had struck from above with a neatly timed hammer drop technique. The animal immediately grew silent because Beary's strength was enough to form a crater upon impact. Velanova happily leapt off her companion so she could tie it to a makeshift sled for transport.

From there, they would carry it back to their cavern home and have it prepped for preserves such as jerky. An idea put on hold when Beary had come to a halt halfway through their route. The bear's nose twitching made it clear to Velanova that someone was following them.

A correct assumption upon a voice coming from the trees. "Wings of white on the back of a bear whose more toy than pure flesh. Quite a fitting companion to a lady equally as peculiar." There sitting on the branch above is the monkey yaoguai from before. Tail moving in a curious motion as yellow slitted eyes look down on her frame.

"How long have you been watching me Mr. Monkey?" He chuckled mischievously at the little nickname given. "As long as those pretty greens were looking at me! Guess the looks of the Handsome Monkey King charmed thy lady." Velanova instantly paled upon recognizing that this isn't your normal yaoguai.

The woman read about him once; his feats, his sins, and his entire story. Sun Wukong had been watching her as she had been watching him… Absence of the circlet on his head alongside the simple tatter monk garments gave Velanova enough warning to RUN.

The Monkey King was thrown off upon Beary bolting away in seconds. He could ponder why they ran later because his interest at the moment is running away! Sun Wukong somersaults off the tree with his noble cloud forming underneath his feet as he begins his pursuit.

Velanova took a peek behind her to see the stone monkey catching up to them. It didn't matter if Beary dropped the boar or not. Sun Wukong would still catch the two. Only chance she had was a more magical one.

Velanova quickly reached for her deck to grab a card. The one she hopes could keep the two of them outta Sun Wukong's reach. A single swift movement as the cyanette looks at the card she drew. Monkey King was now close to reach out and grab the woman's shoulder.

Close to see the small smirk cross her lips. And close enough to being greeted by a magenta violet card before his face. "Emergency Evacuation Device!" Just three mere words to make the Handsome Monkey King vanish from being touched by the light of the card.

In three words, Sun Wukong would soon find himself back on Mount Huagao. To his people being brutally attacked and tortured by an invading demon lord. Far away from the strange woman who had escaped his grasp. The Monkey King could only ponder about such peculiar magic as he taught his people to defend themselves.

He wants to go back, to find her again but Sun Wukong needed his children to be in good fighting condition first. Taking a single year at best for every monkey on Mount Huagao to become a fully adept fighter with four generals to lead them properly in battle. A year to map out just where that sea temple is. And a year to plan on how to catch this mysterious sorceress.

Sun Wukong will find her then take her back to his mountain. So many wonders shouldn't be lost to the passage of time. Mysteries to share not just between him but his various children living in their paradise of fruits and flowers. It was time to catch this peculiar lady.

Over a year had passed after Velanova sent the Monkey King away. She ended up having to stay low for a few weeks as Sun Wukong hadn't been sent back to the temple by her Trap Card. He must've gone to Mount Huagao for the temple dwellers had gone on a wide search to find their missing guest.

A few times her cavern would've been spotted if she didn't distract the hunting party away. Currently it is around the start of winter at the moment. Terrible weather for Velanova as the mechanism in her metal leg would often freeze itself stiff from the cold.

It was important to gather materials for fire and makeshift clothing or blankets to stay warm before snowfall. She's currently collecting firewood, her prosthetic wrapped tightly in wolfskin in an effort to keep it warm. Velanova had a pack filled with sticks on her back.

Clinking behind the cyanette is another monster but this wasn't as adorable as her large pink teddy bear. A mangled toy wolf twice her size whose eyes were dead bulging blue plastic with a glowing pink pair inside the darkness of the lazily stitched fang filled mouth, small scissors in it's cotton torn legs and a large pair of gold bladed scissors in between the split midriff held the torn body together as the beast pulls a sled full of wood similar to a sled dog.

"We got a good haul today, Wolfie. Another one just like this and we'll be set until January." The large Frightfur Wolf barked happily at the praise given as its torn tail wagged excitedly behind. It however grew stiff and began to growl in a defensive manner. Velanova knew this type of behavior meant one thing. Sun Wukong was coming.

She had gone towards her toy companion only to be met with a gale of harsh wind halfway there. The woman felt the missing weight of her jacket but most importantly her deck. Velanova could barely blink as she watched an uprooted tree smack down on Wolfie. The toy is now trapped under the weight of the tree and can only whimper when two familiar furry arms wrap around his master's waist.

Her green eyes met the bright amused gold of the Monkey King as he held the cyanette firmly in his arms. Monk clothing now replaced by beautiful golden silk robes with silver peach tree depicting embroidery, a crimson cape fluttering behind and velvet red hanfu around his midriff. "Passage of time appears to not wash over thy lady. A beast made from the butchered remains of a children's toy is quite a sight. I do apologize for having to pin your noble companion and swipe your magic cards."

Sun Wukong's mouth fell shut when the wolfskin around Velanova's leg came loose. His eyes now see the pink metal of where her leg should be. "What…What is this? Thy mortal puzzle… where is the flesh of your leg? Is it coated in this metal bear foot?" Sun Wukong saw bitterness and sorrow bloom in the woman's eyes. A small gleam of water on those green orbs but no risk of tears.

"I lost it a long time ago. This prosthetic is needed if I want to walk properly again. The cold will freeze it and should that happen…" Velanova's words registered quick for the stone monkey took the beautiful red hanfu and wraps her metal leg with it. He didn't stop there for his cape quickly wrapped around her form. The silk threads were so warm to the touch.

"To think one could face the hardships of nature's cruelty for so long while incomplete. Enduring like a grand tree against the relentless disasters wrought by time. Such a remarkable puzzle you are thy lady." Velanova felt her face reddened upon the Monkey King's words.

She watches Sun Wukong's tail split the tree trapping her precious Wolfie to splinters in a mere flick. His eyes never left her visage at all even when the Frightfur Wolf could now attack him. Yet Velanova kept the toy wolf still and calm.

"Let me take you back to my mountain of flowers and fruits. Unravel the mysteries behind your iron strong will down to your mortal body. Just give the name that you kept from the Handsome Monkey King so all of us can depart." The woman immediately stared at the stone monkey in shock.

"Time has no meaning to old Sun with distance barely existent. This monkey's patience can last three summers before thy puzzle no longer stays adamant on this patch of land. I wish for this departure to be in mutual agreement rather than through force." Sun Wukong isn't the type to lie about it either.

He could easily snatch Velanova without a single word of diplomacy whenever he wanted. At this moment, the woman didn't know what to say. Her mind buzzed for some kind of answer to the Monkey King's request. Even her dear Wolfie grew still in anticipation for his dear partner's command.

What happened to be a few minutes felt like decades to the cyanette. Velanova then decided to let the strange sensation in her heart to choose. The constant pull that plagued the woman throughout the entire year soon made sense at last. An answer she had ignorantly overlooked for so long.

"Velanova Perse." Those amber slits widened in a flicker of emotions. "My name is Velanova Perse of Heartland City." A large merry smile full of sharp teeth engulfed the Monkey King's face. In mere seconds the large mangled wolf shifts into a violet light that bounces into the woman's open hand. A violet framed card that held Wolfie's visage now between her fingers before being placed back into the deck.

"Velanova Perse of Heartland City… Such a fitting name for a wonderful puzzle of a lady. Show your temporary dwellings so thy belongings can be retrieved. A guest to my mountain shouldn't come without their precious trinkets and keepsakes." His tail slither around her waist with no resistance. Velanova presented the Handsome Monkey King with a sincere smile.

"I will be happy to oblige."

This is my first time writing Sun Wukong's dialogue like this. It's an attempt at doing OG Sun Wukong's speech pattern from Journey To The West. Velanova Perse is actually an older OC who I revamped earlier last year. Her first appearance being in a Devil May Cry/Yu-Gi-Oh crossover.

Basically she's a psychic that uses her trusty Frightfur Deck both in and out of duels. I might actually make this a fic than just a one shot. Until next time folks, I'll see you back on the journey west. Here's Velanova alongside her dear Beary.

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witchthewriter · 2 years

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Hi!!! I found your blog a little while ago and I've reblogged some stuff beforehand but I'm gonna reblog more 1. Just to be safe and 2. Because I love your writing!!!!!!! (I'm @sidefanficaccounttohidemyshame) I was wondering if I could get the level 5 ship for twilight, Vikings, and peaky blinders? (Or just one if the three is too much!!!)

I'm an infp, Gemini sun, Libra moon, and Gemini rising, I'm 19 years old and my pronouns are she/her!

I'm black and darkskinned and I have sister locs down to my neck and right now they're orange but I like to dye my hair a looooot, mostly pastels cause those are my favorite colors. I'm chubby and abt average height but I feel like I look very cherubic to people who don't know me well lol

I have a lot of different aesthetics that I like but I mostly like anything rlly soft looking and cutesy, like rn I've been really into coquette clothes, cottagecore, and pretty much anything pink. I really love whimsigoth clothes and aesthetics too tho!!

I love collecting things, particularly rocks and anything that an old lady would like (I own like 8 vintage tea kettles rn and it is not enough I need more in my life), languages (I speak three well-ish and I'm learning like 18, (one of the three is literally ancient Egyptian because I like learning ones that are mostly useless to me) and linguistics, mythology, witchcraft, cats!! (Pretty much any animal tho, like I'm obsessed with them. Especially animals people are wrong about being ugly, like shoebill storks??? Giant Chinese salamanders??? Adorable. Some of the best creatures on this earth.) anything sweet, writing, which I'm hoping to eventually be able to do full-time, and just walking around in parks tbh, I'm pretty simple to please

My music taste is just loud and/or sexy, sometimes forestlike, but pretty much every song in their is just something I couldn't show to a Victorian child without them passing out

Also if u have any nsfw to put in that'd be awesome but it's absolutely not necessary, just wanted to let you know that I'd be fine with it!!!!

Sorry if this was too long!!! I hope it was actually helpful lol

Want to be shipped? Here be the instructions 🦋

Hey doll you sound so sweet! I love all the information. It makes doing these so much easier - and they’re more detailed and suited to the person. So, good job!

What each ship has in common:

⋆ Intelligent ⋆ Fierce ⋆ Loyal ⋆ Emotional Intelligence ⋆ Curious

𝐓𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭

𝐷𝑒𝑠𝑐𝑟𝑖𝑝𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛

I ship you with Rosalie - you’re opposites. Like moon and sun. But you don’t clash. Instead, you see new ways of thinking from each other and learn.

𝐻𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑐𝑎𝑛𝑜𝑛𝑠

・Nudging her when she says something too blunt. She sighs and apologizes (half-heartedly.)

・You’re the one wearing the pants in the relationship

・Rosalie will defend you until her dying breath

・She likes kissing your neck

・Having a very avid sex life. She likes it when you’re the dom; taking charge and pushing her against a wall.

𝑇ℎ𝑒𝑖𝑟 𝑓𝑎𝑣𝑜𝑢𝑟𝑖𝑡𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑎𝑏𝑜𝑢𝑡 𝑦𝑜𝑢

Your open mind and curiosity. Rosalie feels as though she’s trapped as a vampire. Always standing still, never moving forward. But you showed her that that isn’t true. You gave her hope. And continue to do so every day. You’re her reason to live.

𝑌𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑏𝑒𝑠𝑡 𝑓𝑟𝑖𝑒𝑛𝑑

Your best friend would be Alice! You have similar energy and would spend so much time together. You would learn a lot from each other; especially since Alice has lived for so long. She tells you about different styles and aesthetics, and she’ll love dressing you up.

𝐕𝐢𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬

𝐷𝑒𝑠𝑐𝑟𝑖𝑝𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛

I ship you with Ubbe Ragnarsson. I think he would be the most emotionally intelligent out of the men. He has a lot of curiosity and respect for new cultures. He has an open mind in that way, which links to that aspect of your personality. I think you would do well with someone who was able to see the deeper meaning of something.

𝐻𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑐𝑎𝑛𝑜𝑛𝑠

・He’s actually a sook when he’s alone with you. He loves how caring and gentle you are with him. He needs tenderness.

・So that means he has a mummy kink ... playing with your tits, biting, licking, and sucking.

・Telling you about the dreams he has for your future. He loves talking to you.

・Knowing each other’s facial features so well that you can read whatever the other is feeling

・He wants you to decide what he should do with his hair. Whether it’s braiding, shaving, tattooing etc

𝑇ℎ𝑒𝑖𝑟 𝑓𝑎𝑣𝑜𝑢𝑟𝑖𝑡𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑎𝑏𝑜𝑢𝑡 𝑦𝑜𝑢

Your smile. He loves making you smile. He’ll do the most insane things just to see it. It’s not as if you’re a moody/grumpy person, but there’s something about him being the reason you smile, that gives him butterflies.

𝑌𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑏𝑒𝑠𝑡 𝑓𝑟𝑖𝑒𝑛𝑑

Would be Torvi. I think she has a lot to say and is very wise, but thinks about what she wants to say a lot, which leads her to not speak much. You encourage her to say what she wants, and she loves hearing your thoughts.

𝐏𝐞𝐚𝐤𝐲 𝐁𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐬

𝐷𝑒𝑠𝑐𝑟𝑖𝑝𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛

I ship you with Ada Shelby! I think you two would be a match made in heaven. Absolutely getting each other. You’re zodiacs match up, but not only that, but your values as well.

𝐻𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑐𝑎𝑛𝑜𝑛𝑠

・Reading together in front of the fireplace. You would laze between her legs, your head resting on her stomach while you both have a book in front of you.

・Knowing that you’re safe because you’re a part of the Shelby family. You can do whatever you want in Birmingham and there are no repercussions.

・Having civilized debates together; hearing the other’s opinion without it getting heated

・Dates at the movie theatre, picnics, lazily drawing figures on each other’s naked bodies

・She likes being in charge, stripping you naked and kissing every inch of your body

𝑇ℎ𝑒𝑖𝑟 𝑓𝑎𝑣𝑜𝑢𝑟𝑖𝑡𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑎𝑏𝑜𝑢𝑡 𝑦𝑜𝑢

Your intelligence, determination, and desire for knowledge. Ada values these qualities in herself - so when she met you, it was like she felt seen. Ada loves talking to you about literature, about philosophy, languages, and animals. Anything you’ve learned she loves to hear about it.

𝑌𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑏𝑒𝑠𝑡 𝑓𝑟𝑖𝑒𝑛𝑑

Your best friend is Esme - she would definitely connect with your cheerful and blithe personality. You’d gossip with each other, invite her for tea and meet her own family. She’s such an interesting person that feels so mysterious to others, but to you, she’s your good friend.

#let me ship you #ship game #twilight #peaky blinders #vikings #headcanons

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fancifulflora · 11 months

Audio

Beautiful Stranger (Jayce Wiseman x Reader)

The city was a beautiful, wonderous place. It was a machine in constant motion, each piece- each person- playing their part. Every soul that you’d pass having their own story to tell, their own lives and wants and desires.

But this morning was not the time to dwell on that, the reality of your situation lighting your feet aflame as you raced down the Chicago streets to the nearest subway station.

You were late and the bustle of the morning was no longer something to listen to over a cup of tea or coffee, but an impenetrable wall to the start of your day.

“Excuse me, excuse me- ow, ‘scuse me!” You call out, weaving between bodies and ignoring sharp looks and grunts as you hurried to catch your ride.

Turning the corner you could see your target clearly, the hordes of people thinning as you raced towards the doors.

Wait, no.

The doors- they were closing.

Shit.

Come on, just a few more seconds, a few more moments- each step you took felt heavier than the last, your breath growing heavy as you pushed yourself to your limit.

Thats when a hand shot out, grabbing you by your collar and practically yanking you right through the doors before they could close.

The imminent collision hurt more than you’d like to admit, sending the stranger- your savior of the morning- reeling back a few steps. Their arm rested around your waist, the stranger digging their heel in to keep from falling over as the rest of the late morning commute settled into their positions.

It was close, far too close for your liking, but you made it.

“You alright?”

It took a bit of craning to look up at the stranger, the words of thanks and reassurance dying on your tongue at the sight.

He was avoiding any eye contact, gaze flicking around to take in those around the two of you, but those beautiful blues were hard to miss. His arms were pulled at his sides now, having reeled away from you the moment the two of you were steady.

The best you could do was nod, your lungs heaving in a motion that mirrored his.

Was he running too? You couldn’t remember.

Probably having paid attention to you from the corner of their eye, the distant look on the stranger’s face refocused on you- reading your expression with curiousity. Then they nodded, as if confirming your condition. At least, that’s what you would have assumed they were doing if it weren’t for the fact that they were taking in your face a little too long for your liking.

You simply blink, confused. Was there something on you? Something of interest?

Before you could bring life to the questions bubbling in your throat, the stranger turned his head over to the doors, gaze dulling to absentmindedly take in the passing sights.

Apparently whatever was getting the gears in his brain turning stopped.

Yeah, he was definitely the weird one in this situation.

No doubt about that.

Adjusting yourself, you followed his gaze out the windows, focusing on the passing lights and reaching for your earbuds to crank some music while you could.

Or at least, you were trying to do. Even from the glass of the train car, you could still see the stranger.

It was a little hard not to considering how tall he was.

And there was a fierce intensity to his look, a peek of dark ink creeping around the back of his neck, the way wild tufts of silky black framed his soft features.

It was hard to look anywhere else.

It also didn’t help that he was just behind you, the scent of warm vanilla unavoidable, despite your best efforts.

Okay, now you’re definitely the weird one.

It didn’t seem like he noticed your indirect staring or at the least, was pretending to not notice. Kind of him to do so, if it’s the latter.

Feeling a heat at the back of your neck, you turned, coming to the realization that his presence has captured more than just your gaze.

There was a small child, a irritated couple of corporate workers, even an elderly man who turned his head away with shake of his head.

Maybe you weren’t being so weird after all...

You decide to refocus your attention forwards towards the double doors, catching the slight twitch of the stranger’s lips before they swiftly reset themselves into a firm line.

Was that a smile?

Something stirred in your stomach, the creatures taking flight quickly stomped right back down as you pulled your attention towards the blinking lights above the door- praying that your station would come soon. For salvation. For anything.

Yet fate had other plans for you.

The doors opened and closed, people shuffling in and out, the stranger now gone from sight admist all the chaos.

With another stop to go, you move to a seat to wait out the rest of your ride.

Then you see him, his back anyway.

On the otherside of the glass, making his way to hug the wall. He looked around, eyes searching for something, something you couldn’t pinpoint.

What was truly unexpected though, was how the light blues in his eyes settled on you- a mere moment longer than appropriate- before he fully turned, leaving down the undergound corridor.

Unable to hide the small smile on your face, you instead look down to your phone, fidding with the buttons playing music in your ears. The lyrics of the song filling what space the wild whims of your imagination couldn’t.

These silly thoughts of yours taking full control as the double doors closed once more, the finality of the sound ending your encounter with the beautiful stranger.

At least, for now.

#my oc #oc #jayce wiseman #jayce wiseman x reader #oc x reader #this song just dug itself into my mind and made a mess of my heart #Laufey has a way of making me poetic so you my dear reader- get to be a lil poetic #jayce is a looker and thats on purpose thank you very much #dont worry bout being too weird though #jayce was most definitely intrigued by you too #lol trying to figure if youre a ment or not for a sec before finding great amusement in your confusion

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whatifyoulivelikethat · 3 years

Text

ruined, m | jjk

pairing(s): jungkook x reader

summary: Why is there a mostly shirtless man in your bedroom and why is it Kim Namjoon's, your roommate's, fault? All you want to do is play League of Legends, not be visually attacked by ridiculously attractive Jeon Jungkook as his six friends perform living room karaoke at the top of their very drunk lungs.

warnings: rated M (18+) for language; classic Namjoon ripping clothes; you don't have to know how to play LoL, I explain most of it; smut (fem reader, dirty talk, begging, scratching / marking, nipple play, edging / orgasm denial, handjob, (unintentional?) voyeurism, little bit of cum-eating, choking, cowgirl, cock warming); non-idol!BTS – purple-haired, kind-of-a-brat, sub!Jungkook x gamer, noona, dom!reader, ft OT6 being chaotic in the background XD

@yn-the-reader linked me in this and I was already writing about him. a prophet, maybe? XD

“WHY ARE YOU SHIRTLESS?”

You died.

Not literally, but also literally.

“Fuck!”

Now you had thirty-seven seconds of gray screen to figure out why the fuck Jeon Jungkook had busted into your bedroom on this cheerful night with his black dress shirt three-quarters of the way unbuttoned, revealing most of his – oh, sweet Satan, very muscular – pecs and the upper half of his abs. He was holding something in his hands, looking helpless and sad, while you were panic buying Liandry's Anguish and experiencing a special form of anguish yourself.

“Noona, um–”

That’s right, because you were in the middle of a League of Legends game, playing Cassiopeia, the Serpent’s Embrace, also known as half-snake lady or the lamia of the champion roster or a mean version of Monster Musume’s Miia (if you know, you know, and if you don’t, be glad you don’t). Your roommate was having friends over after going drinking. All this was fine and dandy with you, because you were going to spend all night wearing headphones and playing League of Legends, therefore ignoring the outside world, until the outside world came to bother you in the form of Kim Namjoon’s – your roommate’s – mostly shirtless friend Jeon Jungkook.

He wasn’t mostly shirtless most of the time, only right now.

“Noona, Namjoon-hyung ripped my shirt…” Jungkook whimpered hesitantly, chewing on his lip. He looked awkward and distraught despite his long dark purple hair giving him a rather fierce, bad-boy look.

Namjoon was a great roommate. He was smart, conversational, and insightful. A chat with him usually led to an enriching, open-minded perspective. He was relatively clean, considerate, communicative, nonjudgmental, fun to be around, and only set the kitchen on fire twice.

The second time was your fault.

You shouldn’t have let Namjoon in the kitchen the second time.

Also, Namjoon with his friends was a wildly chaotic time. All of his friends, especially drunk, were fucking nuts. Normally, they were probably relatively calm people (maybe not Kim Seokjin or Jung Hoseok, they were very excitable), but together they were a mess. You often wondered how they could function as a group.

Currently, however, you were trying to collect your brain cells as you had mere seconds before respawning onto the platform and were forced to play again. Timing in League of Legends was very important. Seconds can mess up wave management of minions and wave mismanagement can lead to game losses if you weren’t careful. The nuances of the game were often ignored by casual players.

You were, in short, a nerd about it.

“Fucking s-shit, what h-happened?” you sputtered out, turning back to your screen, unable to look at mostly shirtless Jungkook because he was MOSTLY SHIRTLESS. Honestly, he had quite nice pecs, and you should not be thinking about that, but it was incredibly distracting, just like how it used to be distracting when Namjoon was shirtless, but several years of living with him made you accustomed to his impressive pectoral muscles, to the point where you could joke about them with him.

But this was not Namjoon – this was his younger friend Jungkook and you had no idea Jungkook was ripped, mostly because you didn’t pay attention to Namjoon’s friends.

There were too many of them and you were too introverted for that.

“I don’t know, he just grabbed my shirt and it ripped and I managed to find all the buttons, but, but…”

Cassiopeia respawned on the platform and you couldn’t ignore the snake lady any longer. You had to play the game because four random people on your team were counting on you and you couldn’t exactly type, sorry, there’s a hot man in my room with his shirt practically off and I don’t know what to do with my life, so you had to suck it up and play the damn game.

Right-clicking and keeping your eyes only on your computer monitor.

Half-listening to that trembling, silvery voice coming up behind you, making your hairs stand on end even though all he was doing was dumping the tiny buttons on your desk.

Oh, fuck me, you thought to yourself.

“Can you repair it? Please? My mom bought me this shirt and Namjoon-hyung said you can sew, so maybe you can sew them back on? Please?”

“Yes, Jungkook, I can, just not right now, I’m in the middle of a game,” you rambled, suddenly trading damage with the enemy Viktor, trying to avoid the laser from the Machine Herald, swearing under your breath as you stutter-stepped and stunned him, poisoning him quickly enough with your abilities to avoid dying. “I will help you, I just – fucking shit, get the fuck away from me Udyr, fuck!”

“Wow, you curse a lot, noona. It’s kind of funny.”

“I – fuck– I mean, sometimes, and what are you guys doing out there? It sounds like a deranged cabaret club,” you remarked, ticking your head towards the direction of your bedroom door.

“Karaoke!” Jungkook replied brightly, still standing behind you, why was he standing behind you, it was freaking you out a little, but Ocean Dragon was being taken and a team fight was about to happen, so you had to ignore it and support your teammates in chasing down the enemy support.

Seokjin hit a high note that was so shrill that you heard it through your headphones.

“… Wow, he’s got some lungs on him.”

“Do you wanna join us, noona?”

“I can’t sing.”

“Neither can we.”

“Pretty sure all of you can sing better than I can, even Yoongi and Namjoon. I’m fucking terrible.”

“I’m not that good.”

You barely survived with thirty hit points after that debacle of a team fight, but your team had the dragon and you all were slowly on your way to victory. You pressed the ‘B’ key to return to base, but kept your eyes on the screen, lest Udyr, the Spirit Walker and serial bear stun-slapping enemy jungler, ran your ass down and killed you.

“Jungkook, your voice is absolutely heavenly. Fucking beautiful. I’m sure every human being on Earth would want to be serenaded by you.”

Silence that you didn’t notice was awkward for him because you were too busy letting out a sigh of relief and building your next item, typing quickly to your teammates. You all were about to set up for vision around Baron Nashor, a large purple worm-dragon monster that when killed provided a significant, sometimes game-ending buff.

“R… really?”

“Yeah, and you’re handsome, gorgeous, and hot as hell too, so the whole damn package,” you responded absentmindedly, realizing the enemy were trying to split-push and trade objectives so you sent some pings to your teammate to take care of that as you accompanied the main group to help clear waves of minions.

Heat.

You heard him shift beside you and suddenly his face was next to yours, watching your screen closely.

Side-step, cast your ultimate, cast your Miasma ability to ground the enemies and prevent them from dashing away, switching between auto-attacking and piercing them with Twin Fang, all in the span of a mild freak-out because why was Jungkook so FUCKING close?

“Wow, you’re so good at League.”

“I’m Diamond rank, so not that good, but definitely better than all seven of you combined.”

“Haha, true, we’re all pretty bad,” Jungkook laughed next to your ear and, oh, shit, is warm breath feathered on your neck, why weren’t you wearing a turtleneck or something and not your self-cropped oversized band t-shirt and slinky black leggings, why weren’t you cocooned in layers of clothes, because you were quickly highly aware of how attractive Namjoon’s friends were.

To top it all off, you were in the middle of a game, so you just had to tolerate it and stay calm for the sake of your teammates and your elo.

“Maybe you could teach us and we’ll teach you something in return.”

“You guys don’t even listen to each other, why would I assume you all would listen to me?”

“I’d listen to you, noona.”

Now your team was doing the Baron dance, skirting in and out of vision, daring the other team to make a move, daring each other to make a mistake so the other could capitalize on it, slowly, slowly, watch the waves, watch the minimap. Careful. You could control the situation if you were calm and not too trigger-happy. Tension in your fingers and tension in your neck because your roommate’s friend was right next to your head, observing your every move.

His violet hair brushed your shoulder.

Soft, delicate strands against your skin.

“You’re more experienced, so you would know what to do.”

Your support snap-engaged a fight and you were immediately in the zone, right clicking rapidly, cycling through your abilities, keeping track of the opponents’ spells, determined not to let any of them get away, following your teammate’s calls and not hesitating, because hesitation as death and loss, and you were so close to winning you could taste it, going after it with passionate vigor and a slow-forming grin, seeing and hearing the in-game announcer declaring, QUADRA KILL.

You didn’t kill all five of them because someone took the pentakill from you.

You might have cared about that except your ear exploded into clapping as Jungkook excitedly applauded for you, cheering you on, reminding you that a mostly shirtless man was standing right next to you.

Thanks, Namjoon, you thought sarcastically.

“Wow, you played that so well, dodging the Viktor ult and stunning three people like that–”

You felt your cheeks heat at the compliments, busying yourself with your team killing Baron. You didn’t usually have someone commenting on your games. Your eyes flickered to the small buttons on your desk.

Especially not a mostly shirtless guy.

Mostly shirtless hot guy.

Back to screen, seeing your jungler’s typed instructions, suggesting you all to destroy as many structures as you could and then prepare for the next fight for Ocean Dragon Soul and – oh? Your eyebrows raised as the screen abruptly jerked to the enemy base, the nexus inside exploding into shiny gem-like fragments that became the VICTORY banner.

“They surrendered?” you uttered with surprise, clicking on the CONTINUE button. “Why?”

Your eyes flickered to the kill score.

“Oh, thirty-two to nine… maybe that’s why….”

Your team had the nine deaths and the opponent team had thirty-two so, well, maybe that’s why they surrendered the game.

“Aw, that’s no fun,” Jungkook pouted as you clicked on the damage screen. Second most damage. Okay, you could take that. You were a little distracted.

“So, about your problem–”

You spun around to, ack, realize that, yes, Jungkook’s shirt was still flapped wide open to expose his chest like an unwrapped piece of caramel candy. He seemed to realize it too, making a surprised face and yanking the sides closed, as if you hadn’t gotten a damn eyeful already.

“I can resew the buttons back on, but you should borrow a shirt from Namjoon in the meantime,” you managed to say, clearing your throat. “Because I, ah, can’t really sew it when you’re still wearing the shirt.”

“Oh… Oh, right, yeah.”

Then he started yanking his shirt out of his slacks.

UMMMMMMM.

Usually, you didn’t care about this stuff. Men were men. They had chests. But you had things you liked too. Just like how men like tits and ass, you liked well-built pecs and forearms. Actually, you appreciated a nice ass and thighs too. And cute faces. Fuck, you loved a cute face.

“Uh, Jungkook…”

He looked up, questioningly. Big round brown eyes, his violet bangs framing his chiseled jaw, parted pink lips, the small mole underneath his lower lip looking so, so kissable, quivering slightly.

Fuck, Jungkook had a cute face.

His shirt was very open.

Fuck, his lightly tanned skin.

He was hesitating around a button, his deft fingers flexed, ink black tattoos standing out on his knuckles and the back of his hand. Your legs were slightly spread, thighs flush to your gaming chair. Half a second and Jungkook’s eyes flickered back up to your face, pretending he hadn’t been looking.

You raised your eyebrows.

“Are you really just gonna strip in my room and walk out asking Namjoon for a shirt and hope none of the six guys think anything about it?”

His eyes shifted around your room. Bed with black sheets and black velvet duvet. Television with your gaming consoles. Your collection of character figurines from various games. Your black denim jacket hanging on a hook, covered in monotone patches that you had sewn yourself, mostly occult-themed, skeletons, skulls, cats, ghosts, potions, eyeballs, that kind of thing. Back to your desk.

Your legs.

Really staring at your thighs, hips, and crotch.

Up your torso, your hands, your exposed collarbones.

Your face.

Guarding his expression, testing the waters.

“Maybe,” Jungkook said slowly. His eyes darted away and back, teeth catching his lower lip. “I really am hoping you can fix my shirt.”

You watched his face carefully, the flare of darkness in those brown orbs, a hint of naughtiness, dancing with danger. Jungkook had a mischievous streak. You could tell by the way he interacted with his hyungs, listening but talking back, helping them with things but not without a roll of his eyes or a smart remark added, probably because all his friends were older and he was the youngest. He knew he could get away with it.

In short.

Brat.

“What would you like in return, noona?” Jungkook purred, smile dancing on his lips.

Honorifics were supposed to honor you. Show a sign of respect and all that shit.

All I wanted to do was play video games, you grumbled internally. Not suddenly have a thirst fest for one of Namjoon’s best friends. You narrowed your eyes a little, seeing the smirk on that perfectly shaped mouth. He’s not stopping either.

Outside your room, something fell with a loud crash. Probably Namjoon by the depth of that startled yelp. Everyone else started laughing and a very loud, cheerful melody was blasting from the living room television. Nobody was coming to investigate you and Jungkook.

Yet.

“Turn around and ask for a shirt,” you sighed, waving a hand. “Then take off your shirt in the bathroom and then, only then, do you come back and give me your dress shirt.”

You saw Jungkook frown, not expecting that as your answer.

“Oh. Okay.”

He seemed disappointed, lowering his hands.

The silky fabric of the dress shirt slid off his right shoulder, partly revealing his tattoo sleeve and fully revealing his right collarbone and shoulder.

You sucked in a breath, eyes flickering to it. Then his face. Then back to his body. Fuck. Fuckity fuck. Fuckity fuck fuck fuck. Jungkook jumped, startled by the fallen fabric and reached over to grab the fallen collar. Your hand moved faster than you had time to think. You had good reaction time. It was the gaming obsession.

You slapped his hand down.

Jungkook squeaked, head snapping up, purple hair floating around him, gold chain on his neck glittering as he swallowed hard, Adam’s apple bobbing. Strangely, his chain resembled your sterling silver choker that you were wearing right now, except you also wore another necklace with a circular white gold pendant with your zodiac sign.

Not that anyone was ever close enough to inspect it.

“N-Noona?” he breathed, sounding strangely winded.

Shit.

You hadn’t meant to do that. Your body reacted faster than your head.

Shit.

Fuck, he had a nice body. His pecs. Even had a nice dark nipple – well, he probably had two, but you could only see one at the moment – and it all trimmed down to a slim waist and shapely hips. You could tell because of his tailored black slacks. He had been wearing a blazer earlier in the evening too. It was probably on a chair somewhere in the apartment.

Shit.

What did Jungkook need to look so damn good for?

“Where did you guys go to be dressed like that?”

Yes, you were really just going to interrogate him with his shirt dangling off like that.

Jungkook chewed on his lower lip, the tiny mole underneath bouncing up and down as he spoke. “We went to a fancy hotel rooftop bar to celebrate Yoongi-hyung’s award that he won at the music show for producing that song–”

“Ah, right, Namjoon mentioned that earlier today.” Dress code must have been black tie.

Those dark brown eyes found yours, observing you carefully.

“I would have liked to see you there, noona.”

You stopped staring at the tattoos on his bicep and made eye contact. Fuck. Those eyes. Sparkling with deviousness. Trying to see how far he could push your buttons.

“I wonder what kind of dress would you have worn?” he murmured, musing to himself. “I bet you would have looked hotter than any girl there.” Jungkook smiled, playful and boyish. He wasn’t being sleazy about it. Every word was light and honest. “A tight little black dress? Maybe bright red? Short, because you have incredible legs. It would be a crime not to show them off.” He was only complimenting you. His tone wasn’t trying to be suggestive.

Yet.

You didn’t close your legs. You had nothing to be shy about.

Instead, you leaned back in your gaming chair as if it was a throne, resting your left elbow on the armrest and your chin on two fingers, thighs wide open, and your other hand in between them, fingers curled inward to your inner thigh.

Jungkook’s pink lips curved ever higher, ever more roguish.

“Whatever you would have chosen, you would have looked so, so sexy.”

You ticked your head.

“I know.”

Because you did.

Look here, Jeon Jungkook, I’m here minding my own damn business and you’re here inserting yourself into my life, so if you can’t handle me knowing my self-worth, you can fuck right off.

He reached up and tucked a bit of his purple hair behind his right ear, grinning at you.

“You sure you don’t want anything from me?” he asked, a slight flicker of pink tongue between white teeth. “I can give first and then you can decide whether or not you want to help.”

Honestly, those sultry eyes could stop a heart.

You removed your hand from your chin, tapping the air with those two fingers in a dismissive manner.

“Hm.”

Outside, Kim Taehyung and Jung Hoseok were singing a soulful duet and Park Jimin was hooting at inappropriate moments to ruin the atmosphere as much as possible. That raspy, breathless laugh was Min Yoongi, who was probably doubled over on the floor in his expensive suit. Classic genius music producer of the year behavior right there.

Jungkook tucked his hands in his pockets, shirt sleeve falling down, revealing his blacked-out inner elbow. Mountains with a dark sky. It must have hurt, doing something like that. Still, he did it. For aesthetics?

You heard the smirk rather than seeing it, mostly because you were looking at his body.

“I would look so damn good on you, noona.”

Alright.

You closed your eyes slowly and reopened them to look directly into those dangerous, dangerous eyes.

“Lock the door.”

Not really an order. More of a statement. Jungkook could do it or not, you knew. He couldn’t be coerced to do anything. He did things because he wanted to do them. He was nice because he wanted to be nice. He was childish when he wanted to be childish.

And.

Jungkook was obedient when he wanted to be obedient.

He turned around, went to your bedroom door, and locked it.

Well then.

He came back and stood in front of you. A little closer now.

You cocked an eyebrow. “They’re going to come looking for you.”

Jungkook smiled down at you. “I’m sure they will.”

You frowned, lowering your hand to tap the end of the armrest. “They’re going to think I started this.”

“You kind of did.”

Your eyes narrowed sharply. He grinned, taking a step closer.

“Because it’s not my fault you look so good,” Jungkook breathed, voice deepening, leaning down, your expression unchanging, not pulling back but not encouraging anything either. “Not my fault your body is hotter than a summer. Not my fault your confidence is the biggest turn-on I’ve ever had in my life.”

Your thighs were still as open as his shirt.

Jungkook put his knee in between them.

His dress shirt was basically almost completely off his body now, falling off the left shoulder too and dangling off his forearms, exposed collarbones and shoulders, tan skin taut over muscle. A delicious body line, so fucking close to you that you could feel the heat. You still didn’t do anything. You weren’t going to do anything. You didn’t prompt this. You were simply minding your own business commanding a snake lady to victory, not expecting to get seduced by a mischievous bunny-like smile and a tiny black mole under a cute pout.

“I can’t help myself around you.”

You usually didn’t say more to Namjoon’s friends than a mere hello, not wanting to bother them with your presence. They were all men after all. You expected them to want bro time or whatever. Also, you were too busy being obsessed with men that didn’t exist in real life to pursue men that did exist in real life.

At least League of Legends had 3D models so no one could say you lived only the 2D lifestyle.

That didn’t mean that you didn’t partake when the dinner laid themselves out to be eaten. They often had to, because you wouldn’t pay attention otherwise.

Purple hair drifted into your vision, surrounding you in a curtain of violet and dark brown eyes, warm exhale and trembling pink lips, trapping you in Jungkook’s gaze, but you refused to relent, keeping your gaze even. Steady breaths to disguise your racing heart.

You kept your hands closed to prevent him from seeing your shaking fingers.

“Every time I see you, I want you to touch me,” he whispered, trying to hide the edge of nervousness by lowering his voice, enticing you to lean in to hear him better because someone was wiping a damn window in the living room outside your door or was that Kim Seokjin laughing?

There was no difference.

Jungkook’s forehead touched yours and you stopped thinking about Seokjin.

“I just want you to feel me up, rip my clothes off, and fuck me until I can’t think straight. Use me, abuse me, wreck me, ruin me,” he shuddered, definitely thinking about it, and one blink and you spied the obvious tent in his pants.

“Maybe I’m a lazy girl,” you finally said, touching your nose to his, inhaling his breath, a little bit of alcohol, a little bit of fruitiness, and that hint of cologne, fresh, clean, and intense. Something else too. Musk, maybe his pheromones or something like that. Whatever it was smelled fucking delicious, just like you. What did your perfume smell like? Spiced fire blended with addictive sweetness.

You shrugged casually.

“Maybe I’m a pillow princess.”

Jungkook chuckled.

“I can tell you’re not.”

You had to smirk.

Of course, you weren’t.

You closed your thighs around his knee and squeezed, raising to your tiptoes. He gasped softly, shivering at the simple touch of your soft thighs pressing around his muscular leg. It was disturbingly noisy out there, but here it was silent, pared down to your breathing and Jungkook’s breathing, mixing together, blazingly hot, closer, closer, doing the careful dance, daring each other to make the move that was so obviously going to happen.

“What are you gonna say when they ask you where you’ve been all this time?” you whispered, avoiding letting your lips brush against his.

“The truth.”

His tongue flickered out and barely touched your lips.

You didn’t make a sound.

Jungkook moaned, the sound drifting into your throat, and you could taste his desire.

“I tripped and fell into your lap.”

Your lips curved into a smirk.

He kissed you.

His hands on the armrests of your rolling chair, pushing it back into your desk, pressing his lips to yours, inhaling deeply, wanting to breathe you, wanting to taste you, wanting you, shivering as you finally touched him with your hands, but this was you, and your first touch wasn’t going to be wasted on a conventional innocent touch.

Your fingers closed in on his rock-hard erection and stroked him through his pants.

Jungkook moaned your name right in your mouth, eyes half-lidded, his violet hair encircling your face as he rolled his hips into your palm, whining deep in his chest.

“Fuck, yes, noona, play with me…”

You flitted your tongue between his lips and he chased it, begging you for more, and yet you continued to tease, light flicks between those soft pillows, nipping at them, even pushing up his lower lip so the tip of your tongue could draw a small heart around that mole, kissing it, so gentle, so delicate. His entire body shook, your hand palming his hardness through his pants, nails scraping against his balls, caressing all of it, acting like you owned it. Jungkook was certainly humping your hand like you did.

“You only want me because I didn’t want you,” you taunted, not bothering to hide your smirk and your slight disapproval.

“That’s not true,” he panted, attempting to get you to touch his chest, pushing you back into your chair, and yet you kept the fingers of your free hand on the cusp of what he wanted, heat close but no contact, causing him to whimper every time your fingernails barely nicked his skin. “I want you because you’re pretty, gorgeous, and hot as hell.”

Hm, that sounded familiar.

“I want you because I love watching you play your favorite games,” he chuckled, kissing the side of your lips, nose to nose. “I want you because I love that little smirk you make when you do something good. I want you because I love that aggressiveness that comes out and how you seem to lose your filter. Shit, it’s so fucking hot when you’re focused. Makes me wanna see your face when you’re pinning me down and having your way with me. Makes me want to obey you and disobey you at the same time, because I want you to reward me and punish me, I just can’t decide, fuck, you make life so hard for me.”

He punctuated hard by violently humping your hand, rattling your desk with his force.

Outside you heard Namjoon yelling “CANNONBALL” and throwing himself onto that giant gray furry beanbag you paid far too much for about six months ago. It was now a household party favorite, due to its massive size and fluffiness. At the moment, it sounded like a pile of six guys in semi-formal clothing was beginning and, instead of watching this heap of hot dudes being constructed, you were making out with the seventh guy’s face and grabbing his dick.

You’ll take this trade.

You felt Jungkook’s hands groping around, undoing his pants and the zipper, trying to get you to touch more, more, desperate for you to be all over him.

“P-Please… please, I don’t know when they’re going to notice…” he pleaded. “You’re so close, so close, ah, I can’t think, please…”

“Shh…” you soothed. “The door is locked.”

Your fingertips finally touched his chest, not disappointed in the slightest when you touched those delicious-looking pecs. They felt just as nice under your palm, his pounding heart and wanton moan vibrating up your arm.

“Aren’t you a needy little brat trying to distract me from my games, hm?”

Your fingertips hooked over the waistband of his boxer briefs.

“You’re going to have to face the consequences, Jungkook.”

You said his name like a delicious sweet about to be eaten, growl in your throat as you yanked down his underwear, capturing his lips, robbing him of his cries as you clawed down his chest, grasping his cock and pumping him, long, complete strokes from base to tip, curling your fingers around his balls, juggling them with your fingers teasingly as he squirmed and groaned. Your free arm shot around his back, digging your nails into his spine, not letting him get away. His black dress shirt was falling, falling to your floor, his bluish-purple hair in your face and his strong hands on your shoulders, sliding down, kneading your breasts through your clothes, whining that you were still wearing a bra – of course, you were, six dudes were coming over and they didn’t need to see your magnificent nipples on display, although clearly one of them wanted to see – and he was trying to get to the hem of your shirt, but you smacked his hands away, building the pressure and speed, pre-cum leaking between your fingers and adding slickness to lessen the dry friction.

Fuck, you could smell him and he smelled so fucking good.

“Noona, please…” Jungkook gasped, hands on the armrests of your chair, tipping his head back at the pleasure, pants at his fucking knees, chest, crotch, thighs on display. “This is… embarrassing…”

He meant him being mostly naked and you being dressed.

You shrugged, acting indifferent. “Not for me.”

He whimpered at your words, so noticeably dominant despite not using an aggressive or commanding tone. Either that or he was very invested in you jacking him off. You suspected it was a combination of the two, considering how eagerly his cock twitched when you answered.

“What should I do, Jungkook? Should I let you cum? Or should I play with you and stop, make you put your clothes back on and walk out there, desperate to be finished off?” you mused aloud, running your nails up his back, not that hard, but he leaned back into it so they sank into him, wordlessly begging you to do it harder, so you did, setting your jaw and scratching at his back, forcing him back into position. His cock throbbed in your hand, pulsating wildly.

Hm, he really loved it, huh.

“P-Please… wanna cum, please don’t be mean…” he gasped, thrusting his hips into your punishingly tight grip.

“Hm, why does it matter? You’ll just run to the bathroom and finish yourself off anyway, right?”

“Want you to do it, please,” he begged, his long hair curling around his jaw, dark purple locks framing the sharpness, lashes fluttering as you rubbed your thumb against the underside of the head, smearing pre-cum over the slit. “Your hand feels so good, so fucking good, better than I thought, please, I need you to touch me or I can’t get off, please…”

You removed your hand.

Jungkook cried out in denied despair, pitch hiking, the sinful sound clearly audible despite the debaucherously loud ruckus outside your bedroom door that included not one, but two people howling like werewolves for some unknown reason. At this point, you were mildly curious.

But you had a job to do.

He grabbed the front of your shirt, almost sobbing with need. Somehow his violet hair was a mess and you hadn’t even touched it. It cascaded over one of his eyes, an indigo curtain, the other chocolate orb shaking and pupil dilated, black prominent in the dark brown.

“Please don’t–”

You shoved two fingers from your right hand into that pleading mouth and raised your left.

He choked, gagging a little on your fingers.

You stuck your tongue out and licked your palm, slathering it with a thick layer of slick saliva.

Jungkook’s eyes widened at the dirty action and then rolled back into his head as you wrapped your hand around his aching cock once more, now covered in saliva, swiftly and fervently jacking him off, hard, fast, tight, nearly choking his cock, pushing his chin up and his chest to your hungry mouth, tongue and teeth and lips, all over those dark nipples hardening under your persistent touch, heedless to his rising moans, so very obvious now what was happening in your bedroom.

It didn’t bother you at all. Jungkook walked in here and asked you to wreck and ruin him, so you did exactly what he asked you to do, leaving harsh bite marks and slippery saliva all over his soft skin, your perfume rubbing off onto his body, coating his chest in your scent and his pulsating thick length with your spit, and he was so fucking hard that you were impressed, feeling his mouth suck on your fingers desperately and wetly, your name a messy garble above your head.

“Fuck, yes, umpf, oh fuck, I’m so close, so close, gonna cum, goona cum for you…!”

“Jungkook?”

You had no idea who called his name through your door, because the next second Jungkook was pitching forward and shooting his cum up your thigh and chest, thick white strings painting your leggings and band t-shirt, soaking into the fabric and creating a sticky mess on your skin, your head lifting in response to his movement to avoid knocking into him, your fingers sliding out of his lips, strings of saliva snapping as they left, and suddenly Jungkook’s face was in your face, his lips on yours in a passionate kiss, rutting into your hand to increase the sensitivity, shoulders and hips flinching, whimpering gratitude and ecstasy into your mouth, his hands in your hair, kissing you deeper, more ravenously, ignoring the questioning voices, lost in the pleasure of his orgasm.

You heard Namjoon say outside your door, “I think he made his move.”

You asshole, at least warn me, you thought irritably.

“You’re so good… so good, exactly what I need… I knew you would be… fuck…”

You thrust your tongue into his lips once and backed off, chuckling as he whined for more.

“Go ask for a shirt.”

Jungkook shook his head rapidly, violet hair flying everywhere. Your hand was still wrapped around his semi-hard cock, his cum dripping onto your wrist. His ears were turning red.

“I can’t… They know something is going on…” he mumbled, scooting closer to you, as if your body heat could somehow mask the fact that you just jacked him off with six of his friends standing outside your bedroom door whispering.

“Maybe you wanted them to know.”

You squeezed his ass and he trembled, clutching your shoulders.

“Easy way to tell them that you want to be owned by me, right?”

You could tell by the way his eyes were darting around rapidly that the thought crossed his mind more than once.

“Jungkook.”

You said it loud enough for a keen ear to hear it if they were really eavesdropping. You looked up at Jungkook, his eyes immediately fixating on yours because of your tone.

In control, not to be questioned.

“Get on your knees.”

Dead silence outside your bedroom.

“B… but…”

His cheeks flushed pink.

You took his chin and pulled him down to your face, murmuring to that mole under his lips, pecking it daintily, almost innocently, his wispy moan drifting over your nose. Your words were barely above a whisper, only for him.

“You made a mess. Clean it up.”

You stroked Jungkook’s chin with your thumb, your other hand tucking his long hair behind his ear.

“I’ll let you sleep in my bed tonight, so be a good boy for me right now and I’ll let you be a bad boy in bed.”

His head tilted and Jungkook whispered your name into your mouth, drenched with desire.

You smirked, stroking his jaw fondly.

He got to his knees, in between your open thighs, leaning forward, subservient eyes on your face as his pink tongue extended, licking at his own cum staining your clothes, eyes closing at your hand on the top of his head, not directing the movement, but reminding him who was in charge here, reminding him with nails in his scalp that he was going to be fucked until he couldn’t think straight.

Used, abused, wrecked, ruined.

“I don’t wanna.”

“We both know you do.”

“But I want to fuck you,” Jungkook protested, speaking softly because everyone was sleeping, or at least it seemed that way, not that either you or Jungkook cared, because you were forcing him to his knees on your bed, pushing his torso back, nails digging into his chest, towering over him, his naked body already covered in your bites and scratches, focused on his inner thighs and chest, none on his neck because that’s where he wanted it the most.

And you knew it.

“Noona, please…”

He said please a lot for someone who did not, in fact, want to be pleased, but tortured.

You grabbed him by the chin, cocking an eyebrow.

His hands were behind him, arms shaking as they held him up, shivering delightfully under your petrifying gaze.

“Please what? Hm? Saying please when you come crawling into my room, begging for dirty things with your friends right outside, saying please when you interrupt me and distract me, jeopardizing my chances to win my game?”

You leaned in close, you knowing you were only crafting a scene, him knowing that you didn’t actually care, but Jungkook wanted to hear the words, wanted you to put that malice in your tone to caress his ears, wanted you to cannibalize his sanity and put him in a different headspace, his cock already responding to it, bobbing in the air, purple-red and achingly hard from multiple orgasms, and he still wanted more.

“Saying please so you can say please when you’re under me, helplessly begging me to let you cum?”

You could hear his whines vibrating under your fingertips, pupils blown wide, lower lip trembling, begging you already, such a needy little thing, those lovely brown eyes full of submission, muscles tense with anticipation, every passing second spiraling him into increased frustration, because instead of doing anything, you were only smirking wider and wider, pushing his head back.

“Well? Tell me if you’re a dirty boy or not. Maybe I’ll do what you want.”

His violet hair cascaded to his shoulder blades, his low moan coursing through your fingertips and the heated air of your bedroom.

“Y… Yes, I’m a d-dirty boy…”

“Noona,” you prompted.

Just because you could.

His lips curved into an open smile, two of your fingers hooked over his lower lip, fingertips rubbing his tongue. Your thumb nail pressed into his mole.

“Noona.”

You ripped the condom open with your teeth, which was not advisable unless you were the kind of person that practiced that for hours on end, spending an obscene amount of money on unused condoms to perfect your technique, because nobody wants a broken condom or lube in their teeth. Why would you want to learn such a thing? You were a stickler for details. A perfectionist in perfecting a perfect display of raw dominance.

You spat out the torn corner onto Jungkook’s chest and he whimpered, unashamedly amazed.

Your left hand removed the condom from the package and your right slid out of his mouth and encircled his neck.

You inspected the condom, lazily turning it to the correct position, fingers pressed to the sides of his neck, leaving plenty of space for his trachea between your thumb and forefinger. You didn’t bother looking at his face. Instead, you spread your legs, poised and naked over him and his throbbing cock.

Your right hand started choking him.

Your left hand started rolling the condom down his thick, hard length.

Your name leaked out of his lips in a thin gurgle, his eyes rolling back into his head.

“Say please, Jungkook.”

A sharp, distinct order.

“P… Please…” he gasped out, chest shuddering.

Your hand tightened around his throat and your pussy clenched around his cock as you forced yourself down on him.

“Oh, fuuuuuuuck…”

You didn’t bother asking if he liked it. His vicious fisting of your sheets and trembling body, cries and cock included, told you everything you needed to know. You only watched the color of his cheeks, knowing there were limits to how long you could choke him. Therefore there was no time to be wasted, already starting your favorite pace, rough and hard, filling yourself with that delicious cock built to take your abuse, jaw set, gripping his throat, blood pounding under your fingertips, slapping hips to crotch, heat sparking though your veins, hotter, hotter, your smirk growing more and more smug, tongue tracing your lips as you witnessed Jungkook’s descent into sin, raising his head so he could watch you bounce on his cock with hazed brown orbs, mouth open, tongue lolling out, circulation thinning, purple hair wild around that cute, distressed face.

You let up the pressure on his neck, dark snicker rumbling in your chest.

“This pussy worth it, brat?”

The rush of missing blood into his brain, the suffocating pleasure of your pulsating walls wrapped around his twitching cock, your authoritative growl and merciless words tearing through him – you saw it all taking over Jungkook, forced to respond honestly from pure instinct because there was no time to compile pretty words or a smart comeback.

“Yes, noona, yes, I love it, I love it, this brat fucking loves what you do to him…”

You immediately choked him again and slapped your pussy onto his cock like you were whipping him.

His eyes rolled back and a wild moan tore out of his chest, cut off by your hand.

The bed creaked under you, bearing the weight of your roughness.

“I know you love it,” you snarled, leaning in, fucking him into your bed with vigor, straining his knees, so uncomfortable and so comfortable for him at the same time, pain and pleasure, clearly something he craved and loved from how hard he was. “You said you need me to touch you or you can’t get off.”

You knew that couldn’t be true.

Jungkook probably got off hundreds of times thinking about you, otherwise he wouldn’t be so ecstatic about you violently riding his dick right now.

His teeth sank into his swollen lower lip, staring at you through his lashes, his voice a thin whisper laced with insatiable need.

“I can’t cum without you anymore.”

You removed your hand.

Your hips stopped abruptly, fulling sheathing his cock inside you.

“No!”

His shout was so loud and desperate that you had to conceal your surprise, not expecting the frantic ferocity of his tone, nearly an agonized sob as he grabbed your upper arms in a crushing grip, his indigo locks crashing into his high cheekbones, sticking to his sweaty face and sharp jaw. It took everything in you to stay calm, everything to not give in and let him have what he wanted. Maybe it was stubbornness, maybe it was knowing the role you were playing, maybe it was the sadistic side of you, who the fuck knew, but there was only a beat of hesitation, a second of you staring into those beautiful dark brown eyes, so perfect.

Just perfect.

Perfectly wrecked, willing to do anything in this moment for you to continue.

Before he could utter a peep of a plea, you shook out of his grip and seized his head, crashing his lips onto your neck.

Jungkook bit you.

Instant, searing pain, taking out all his sexual frustration on your neck, sucking at the skin, hot tongue lapping, groaning, moaning, half-crying because you didn’t move. You just sat on his dick and forced his mouth onto your neck, gleefully savoring his despair, closing your eyes and allowing yourself to feel the pleasure, his hands and nails digging into your waist, his teeth latched to the side of your throat, his stiff cock shuddering inside you, your tight heat keeping him hard but not letting him cum, repeatedly squeezing the engorged head brutally, driving him insane.

Insane.

You could feel his lips move, but you muffled his words, pushing his head into your neck.

Please.

Deep inhale, his wonderful scent filling your nose.

Please.

Riding the high that was Jungkook’s desire for you, fingers tangled into violet strands.

Please.

He felt so, so good, spoon-feeding the dom in you with his tiny whimpers and distraught sniffles.

“P… Please…”

You pressed your lips to his hair, murmuring his name sweetly.

“Jungkook.”

No quiver to your tone, only serene calm.

“Noona…”

His hands slid up your back as your hips began to rock, slow, so painfully slow, building the frenzy layer by layer, his hardness swelling inside you, his soft lips pressed to his hickey onto your neck, even more turned on because he knew you let him mark you, he knew in this moment you were his and only his, everything he wanted and more, his hips rising to meet yours, deepening your thrusts, matching your force, burying his face into your skin and your scent, wanting nothing more than your command over his body.

You turned his head, tucking his hair behind one ear, speaking dark whispers into that curve.

“You look the best when on your knees for me, Jungkook.”

He shivered, your name falling sloppily from his lips, drunk from your power and lost in his service.

You let go of his head and grabbed his shoulders instead, putting all of your weight onto him, now letting yourself chase it, chase the orgasm that you had been building for yourself all this time, letting yourself feel Jungkook and feel the full force of the pleasure he gave you, because, yes, of course, you served him first before you, even if it didn’t seem like it.

Because when it came down to it, Jungkook came to you, opening himself petal by petal to show you his vulnerable side, testing the waters, hoping, wishing, praying that maybe, just maybe, you were the kind of person that he was expecting, wanting, needing, and you, knowing how difficult that was because, well, you had made it difficult, only focusing on games and not on those longing eyes that watched you whenever you came into his view.

Eyes that you looked into now.

Half-lidded, glazed over, fucked-out, still honest.

His large hands were still on your waist, holding you to him as you rode him with furious slaps, muscles flexed in his chest and arms, tattoos on his right arm tense and taut from holding this position for so long. He looked so good. Felt so good. Had an amazing cock.

And fuck.

Jungkook had a cute face.

You genuinely smiled.

“I’ll take care of everything,” you drawled, injecting your words with conviction and adoration.

That did it.

His lips parted, low groan emitting from his throat as his head tipped back, purple waterfalling onto his back, thrusting up into you and shooting into the condom with fierce jolts, unable to hold back any longer, his entire length flinching uncontrollably, sweet whimpers at his release, feeling sorry that he didn’t let you cum first, but that didn’t matter, because you rode through it, already there, falling, falling, your sigh like laden smoke as your orgasm slammed into you, welcoming the bolts of cruel pulses flying through you, concentrated onto your core, Jungkook’s moans hiking into pitched ecstasy at the convulsing clenches of his oversensitive, overused cock, arms embracing you tightly, hugging you for dear life, chest to chest, pounding heart against yours.

Your fingers tangled into his hair.

His hand fitted around your head.

Lips to lips and you took care of everything, claiming that mouth as yours, holding him up even though you were the one in his lap, your kiss onto that perfect mole under that pretty pout, cherishing every mumble of your name, lowering him onto your pillows, soft kisses in between. You took care of everything, lifting yourself off him, chuckling as he whined, pawing for you to come back, but you rapped his knuckles and calmed him, removing the condom and cleaning him off gently with a towel, soft kisses in between because he wanted the attention, deliberately not closing his eyes until you crawled back into the bed, tucking the covers around you and him, Jungkook immediately turning and yanking you into his chest, nose against your skin.

“Who’s the pillow princess?” you teased, ruffling his long violet locks.

His lips pressed onto your hickey, his mark on you, and he sighed in content, drifting into sleep.

In the morning, you found a pile of five guys in the living room sleeping in various positions on the giant gray furry beanbag and the sofa. Jungkook was in your bed, passed out. The last guy, Min Yoongi, was in Kim Namjoon’s room, sleeping on his bed, because he was a smart man and took advantage of a perfectly good bed that five drunk hooligans undoubtedly forgot about.

You chuckled and rubbed your neck as you brushed your teeth, seeing yourself and the large purple hickey Jungkook had made last night in the bathroom mirror.

You went back to your room after retrieving the sewing basket from the living room, spending the morning calmly stitching the small buttons back onto his black dress shirt as the seven guys in your apartment continued to snore away.

Then you went back to playing League of Legends.

Ah, Cassiopeia, I had an eventful evening, but I have returned to you.

drabble morning-after hungover breakfast

masterpost

#jungkook x reader #jungkook smut #bts smut #jeongguk x reader #jungkook x you #jungkook fanfic #jeon jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook x you

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just-jordie-things · 3 years

Text

The Crown - Steve Harrington

word count: 4462 warnings: dedicated to @high-functioning-fangirl02 <3

You’d give your life to protect these kids.

These kids you’ve known since you started babysitting them in the sixth grade. Back when Mrs Henderson hired you to watch Dustin. Which essentially meant that you’d watch all of them. But that was alright, over the past seven years of being their designated babysitter, you’d grown to love them all.

Mike Wheeler, the snarky little love-struck shit that you spent grieving with since losing Eleven. Lucas Sinclair, the sweet boy with the occasional attitude whom you helped construct his Ghostbusters costume. Will Byers, the full time sweetheart that made you cookies for Valentine’s Day after hearing you complain about being dateless. And of course Dustin, cute little button nosed Dusty with a trash mouthing tendency, whom looked up to you like a role model.

Hell, you were their role model. Driving them to and from school, covering for them on late nights so they could finish their D&D tournaments. Fiercely protecting them a year ago when Hawkins was Demogorgon infested. Standing up for them when you’d see some upperclassmen picking on them.

Those who dared glance the wrong way towards The Party in your presence, were rumored to run home crying with a bleeding nose and terrified shriek. You never put down the rumors… because maybe it had happened once or twice…

Over time The Party was no longer just a band of middle schoolers. It had opened up to their babysitter, being you, a senior girl who had not many other friends. Nancy Wheeler, Jonathan Byers, which the boys always claimed was strictly because of family relations. Not because Dustin was still harbouring a crush for Mike’s older sister. The town Sheriff, Jim Hopper, who’d proved himself not to be an asshole, and turned out an alright guy. Joyce Byers, whom you loved like a mother and whom treated you like her own daughter. You’d frequently been titled ‘the daughter she wished to have had’ which always raised a snarky response from her sons. Maxine (just Max. Never Maxine) Hargrove, a high spirited and not your typical girl that you grew fond of easily. Especially since she was nothing like her big brother.

And then there was Steve Harrington. Who… really just was at the wrong place at the wrong time and ended up getting roped into the mess that Hawkins Lab had created. King Steve, as you’d known him before you’d officially met last year by fluke accident, was always the popular boy that had a pretty girl hanging off his arm. You weren’t sure why that changed so quickly, why he didn’t put himself out there as much as he used to, didn’t party hard anymore, wasn’t bragging about the new girl he was with that week like he was known for. Maybe that day, when he walked into the Wheeler’s house right as you Nancy and Jonathan were awaiting the Demogorgon’s arrival, maybe he changed then.

Or maybe it was after he’d been sucked into… whatever this all was… and he changed to keep the secret. Or maybe it was after Nancy had broken up with him, around the same time he started growing closer to Dustin.

But right now as you watched him directing the kids, you were more aware that he wasn’t King Steve anymore, that you had been before. Sure, you’d realized somewhere along the way he was different. But it wasn’t until now that you noticed it completely as it was.

“No listen you little shits, no one, is going anywhere” Steve ordered, holding a wash rag in his hand and pointing it between each of the boys, and girl, that stood in front of him.

“Friggin’ pointless just staying here” Dustin grumbled, walking out of the room whilst still muttering. Mike groaned loudly, dramatically, and left to the living room with Max and Lucas. You knew that he was still plotting you get out there tonight. Consequences and dangers be damned.

You looked to Steve with a sigh, a lazy smile on your lips as you walked past him to go after Dustin. He watched you go, letting out a breath as well as he put his hands on his hips and standing alone in the hall with his thoughts.

He’d give his life to protect these kids.

“Dusty?” You called gently as you walked into the kitchen, seeing Dustin sitting on the floor against the dishwasher. Your brows furrowed as you sat across from him by the cabinets. “You alright kiddo?”

“Would I be sitting in here brooding if I was?” He quipped, though you knew he meant well.

“Sweetheart you’re too adorable to be a brooder” You laughed softly, pulling your knees up slightly. “A pouter maybe, but not a brooder”

“Thanks y/n” He responded dryly. You rolled your eyes in response to his sarcasm.

“Come on kid, open up a little. It’s me” Your words were soft, which did prompt Dustin to consider explaining to you his thoughts. “Please? If we make it out of this alive I’ll take you to the arcade. I’ve got a big jar full of quarters I’ve saved up-”

“Okay okay I’ll take the bribe” Dustin caved with a laugh that made your mood lighten. “Look it’s gonna sound lame and cheesy but… everyone else is helping. Jonathan and Nance and Mrs Byers and Hopper and Elle, but what am I doing?”

“You’re staying safe” Your answer came out instantly, but it didn’t seem to be the one the boy was looking for.

“No I’m not, I’m sitting on the sidelines, watching everyone else go be heroes and getting hurt. I’m not doing a damn thing!”

“Hey” You hummed softly, and scooted over closer to put your head on his shoulder. “You’re a hero Dustin. Don’t tell yourself any differently. All of you are, Mike too, and Lucas, and Max, and-”

“Steve?” Dustin offered, and you nodded, looking at him confusedly by the strange tone of voice he used.

“Of course, why’re you looking at me like that?”

“No reason” Dustin shrugged nonchalantly, brushing off the uncomfortable air between you both.

“Alright well, you should believe me” You continued. “Even if you don’t think so, you’re all my heroes, got it Henderson?” The boy smiled and nodded, prompting you to push the cap of his hat down playfully before he could get up and leave the room.

“Mike’s probably still planning his attack” He told you, but you shrugged and waved a hand.

“Let him plot and brood” You said, and Dustin’s mouth fell open.

“How come Mike can brood but I can’t?” You rolled your eyes, still waving your hand for him to get out of here.

“Just go plot with him, I know you’re itching to” You said, and he grinned wide at you, glad you were letting him go plan their escape and attack.

“Thanks y/n!” He called, already racing out of the room. “You’re the best!” You laughed, shaking your head as you stood back up and dusted off the pants of your overalls. Steve came in a few moments later, watching you almost suspiciously.

“What?” You questioned, and he shrugged, shaking his head.

“Nothing. Just wondering why you’re permitting them to conspire against us” He said.

“They’re not conspiring, they’re just discussing. No harm in that”

“Um, every harm in that. As in all of us, being harmed, because of that” He said, but you didn’t really seem to care what he thought about it.

“They’re fine, we’re all fine, don’t freak out so much mom” You said, walking out towards the kids and seeing them all circled up and discussing their big plan.

“I’m not a mom” Steve argued, and you chuckled, turning to see him, his dish rag on his shoulder, hands on hips. It only made you laugh more.

“Mhm, alright. Well then what would you call yourself?” You replied sarcastically, nodding towards his own stance, and making Steve second guess himself.

“This- you-! Alright whatever just stay away from the windows and go be safe somewhere” He muttered, walking into the living room where the kids were. You rolled your eyes again, but couldn’t help the smile on your lips.

Perhaps, you thought, King Steve was the king of something else now.

You watched as he was waving his rag at the kids again, yelling at them for plotting behind his back, and reminding them that no one was going anywhere. But even as Dustin pouted, Steve was rubbing his hand over the thirteen year old’s head. Almost soothingly, like he felt bad for ending their little meeting.

“What a mom” You mumbled, and headed back into the kitchen for something to eat.

You used to resent Steve, back when he was the king of school and didn’t care about anything more than he cared about his popularity and his hair. Back when he didn’t give a shit about pretty much anything. And looking at him now and seeing him watch over these kids, you could physically feel your heart swelling. If that isn’t character development, you weren’t sure what was.

You weren’t sure why it made you feel so bubbly either.

“Listen runts, we’re staying here, we’re staying safe, and we’re not dying!” Steve said, for what felt like the fifth time. But Mike kept arguing back at him.

“Everyone else is out there!”

“Everyone else knows how to fight all that shit!” Steve retorted. “We are staying, here” He repeated slowly, waving his rag between each word. “You got that?”

“You’re just saying that cause y/n’s here. If she wasn’t here, we’d all be getting in your car and going!” Lucas spoke up. Your brows furrowed at that.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” You asked, ignoring your search for food and now strutting into the room where everyone else was. “Am I dragging you down?” You asked, almost sarcastic, but wondering what he’d actually meant by his announcement. Were you dragging them down?

“No, Steve would just protect your ass over our asses” Max shrugged, and the others nodded.

“What the hell? Everyone here is protecting their own asses, I’m not getting killed for a bunch of kids!” Steve said, making flustered and jerky movements. You brushed off their newly sprung argument over where Steve’s bat is swinging and who it’s swinging for.

Apparently, The Party was certain that he’d die for you, rather die for them. But you didn’t care much about what they thought. They’d always thought that you and Steve were meant to be some power couple, but you supposed it was just cause you were the same age and the kids only ever saw you two together. There was no real evidence (as far as they showed) towards the ‘chemistry’ you and Steve supposedly had.

You wandered to the window, curiously looking out it with your arms wrapped around yourself.

“Will you just shut up?” Mike’s yelling made you jump a little, and you turned to see your friends all still arguing with each other. You smiled slightly, meeting Steve’s eyes as he gave you a bored look. You just laughed a little bit back at him. Steve’s expression softened into a small smile. Your face flushed with heat, and you nervously turned away from him to look back out the window again.

A light blinded you almost instantly, making you squint your eyes and put a hand over them to try and clear your vision.

“What the hell?” You muttered, leaning closer to the glass to see what was going on. Headlights, there was a car here. Someone was here. “Steve?” You called, not turning away from the window. He came over right away, looking outside to see a familiar Camaro parked in the driveway.

“Shit” He grumbled, walking towards the front door.

“What- where are you going? Who is it?” You asked, following quickly after him, but Steve quickly turned to make you stay back.

“Just stay in here-”

“Sinclair!” A voice hollered from outside, and you jumped, eyes widening as you recognized it. “I know you’re in there!”

“Billy?” You whispered to Steve, who nodded. You stepped backwards, eyes never leaving Steve’s. “What’s he doing here?” Your voice was quiet.

Billy Hargrove, was the most vile, horrible person you’d ever met. And his wicked ways of bending people to his will, shook you intensely to your core. It was no secret to the others that Billy not only terrified you, but would seductively torture you every day. Sure, you’d been picked on before, but this was different. Every day he’d come to you, hoping to get something out of you, just to mess with you.

“Come on babe, a little kiss, just a little one, we can discuss the rest later”

“You don’t want to get a ride home with me and have some fun?”

“When’re you finally gonna give this up and just put out?”

You shuddered slightly, practically feeling his hot breath against your skin just thinking about the things he’s said to you. Stopping you in the hallways, finding you at your locker, approaching you while you waited at Steve’s car for a ride home.

“I know you’re in there you little pig! Come out here or I’ll have to go in!” His voice was dangerous, threatening. And you felt a legitimate fear for your life, and the kids’.

“It’s fine, you’re fine, I promise” Steve said quietly, out of earshot of the others. “All of you stay here, stay away from the windows” He ordered, giving you one last look before you turned and went to The Party. They needed you right now, all huddled around Lucas and Max to make sure if Billy were to look inside, he wouldn’t see them.

“Come on guys” You said softly, ushering them as far away from the window as you could. Steve, on the other hand, opened the door and stepped outside.

Instead of hiding in a room, completely out of sight of the maniac, you all ducked under the windowsill to see what was happening.

“Am I dreaming or is that really you Harrington?” You felt your entire body quivering upon hearing Billy’s voice. Dustin, who was crouched next to you, turned and gave you a worried look, but your eyes were dead set on the outside.

“Yeah it’s me, don’t cream your pants” Steve responded, walking out towards him as he pulled off his leather jacket.

“What’re you doing here amigo?” Billy asked, the cigarette hanging off his lips moving as he spoke.

“I could ask you the same thing” Steve responded, void of emotion. “Amigo”

“Lookin’ for my step sister. Little birdie told me she was here”

“Huh, that’s weird I don’t know her” Steve lied easily, and convincingly. You prayed to God that Billy believed him.

“Small? Redhead?” Billy replied disbelievingly. “Bit of a bitch?”

“Ashole” Max muttered to herself inside.

“Doesn’t ring a bell, sorry buddy” Steve replied, still not sounding like he cared even an inkling. Billy nodded, taking out his cigarette.

“You know… I don’t how this, this whole situation Harrington is um.., it’s giving me the heebie jeebies” Billy said, looking at Steve a little more threateningly.

“Oh yeah? Why’s that?”

“My thirteen year old sister goes missing all day, and then I find her with you” Billy pointed accusatory hands towards Steve, giving him a disgusted look. “In a strangers house” He continued. “And you lie to me about it” Steve chuckled bitterly, shaking his head and looking away for a moment.

“Yeah, maybe you were dropped too much as a child or what” Steve said snarkily. But Billy just grinned his twisted grin and licked his tongue over the front of his teeth. “I don’t know what you don’t understand about what I just said”

You felt a chill go down your spine as Steve’s protectiveness took over his tone. Dustin beside you mumbling a quiet, “Holy shit”

“She’s not here” Steve said carefully. Billy nodded, looking pointedly towards the window where you and The Party were all huddled and looking out of.

“Then who’s that?” He asked, pointing his cigarette towards his sister.

“Down!” You hissed, and the five of you dropped to the floor so fast you all groaned from the impact of the floor.

“Shit!” Dustin cursed. “Did he see us?”

“Oh shit” Steve grumbled. “Okay listen-” Billy pushed him to the ground before he could explain anything. The boy kicked him, before storming up into the house.

“Well well well” Billy smirked, seeing you and The Party standing there together, you in front of all of them. “y/n l/n, what a lovely little surprise” You grimaced, but he didn’t seem to care. “And Lucas Sinclair, not so much a surprise at all” You moved over more in front of Lucas, who’s hands grabbed onto your arm out of fear. “I thought I told you to stay away from him Max”

“Billy, go away” Max retorted, but her voice wavered.

“You disobeyed me” Billy leaned over his step sister tauntingly. “And you know what happens when you disobey me” He added in a hushed, volatile voice.

“Billy-”

“I break things” He uttered, before pushing you aside, crashing your body into the wall. Before slamming Lucas up against the cupboards.

“Billy stop!” Max and the others began to yell, Dustin rushing over to help you up, but you were already standing up on your own.

“Get off of me!” Lucas cried.

“Since Maxine won’t listen to me, maybe you will” Billy muttered. “You stay away from her. Stay-! Away from her” He yelled awkwardly. “Do you hear me?”

“I said get off me!” Lucas screamed again, followed by a knee between Billy’s legs. You gasped, feeling a moment of pride as Billy stumbled back and released him.

“You are so dead Sinclair!” Billy hollered. “You’re dead-”

“No” Steve grabbed Billy by the shoulder, spinning him around roughly. “You are” And with that he swung his fist and planted it hard enough against Billy’s jaw to make him topple over.

“Steve!” You yelped out of surprise. He looked at you for a moment, nodding in reassurance as he shook out his hand. It’d been a while since he’d hit anybody. Billy stood back up, laughing menacingly. “You’re a fucking psycho!” You screeched before you could stop yourself.

“Looks like you got some fire in you after all huh!?” He yelled at Steve. “I’ve been waiting to meet this King Steve everybody’s been telling me so much about” He stepped closer to Steve, glaring at him.

“Get out” Steve muttered, pushing Billy’s chest lightly to move him away from him. Billy stepped back and stood there for a moment. And after a few seconds passed you were certain that he was going to stay back.

Until he swung swiftly at Steve, but missed as Steve ducked just in time. You gasped, clapping your hands over your mouth in terror. Steve stood back up and swung his fist again, hitting Billy and making him stumble again.

“Yes! Get him Steve!” Dustin cheered, and the others began to as well. You couldn’t find yourself to say anything, just wince every time a punch was made. Steve hit him two more times, and Billy ran into the kitchen sink. Leaning back and wincing in pain.

“Kill him! Kill him!” Mike was yelling. But Billy grabbed a plate of the counter, smashing it over Steve’s head, and making him fall to the ground.

“Steve!” You screamed now, taking long strides to get over to him, only to be pushed away by Billy. Who hit Steve as soon as he stood up again. He grabbed Steve by the shoulders, staring him down.

“No one. Tells me what to do” He muttered angrily, and threw his head forward hard into Steve’s knocking him down again.

“Fucking hell” You mumbled, tears beginning to prick your eyes in fear that Billy was actually going to kill Steve. The mullet wearing psycho leapt onto Steve, pinning him down and swinging punch after punch against his face.

“Stop it!” Mike yelled at the top of his lungs, but it did nothing to end Billy’s attack.

“Steve!” Dustin hollered.

You stood frozen, every scene in front of you soundless, and moving slowly. You could only feel your heart in your chest, sending you into an anxiety attack, you were sure. But it barely mattered to you in that moment. You turned away, and your eyes landed on something.

The syringe used on Will earlier.

Sleep… put him to sleep… your thoughts were broken as you reached for it, looking at it in your hands for a few seconds, before stepping forward and slamming the needle into Billy’s neck without a hesitation. Mike and Dustin gasped, standing back. Everyone’s eyes stuck on the syringe hanging out of BIlly’s neck now. A disgust filling them up at the sight.

“Shit y/n” Dustin mumbled, his hand covering his mouth to stop vomit from flowing.

Billy stood up, wobbling slightly as he turned to look at you. He pulled the needle out of his neck, vision beginning to fail. “The hell is this?” He asked, trying to step towards you threateningly, but he was wobbling so much you didn’t even move. No longer afraid of him.

“You’re fucking done Hargrove” You muttered, and before thinking twice to second guess yourself, punching him across the jaw, and sending him back on his ass. Billy groaned, staying down where he’d fallen against the couch.

“Shit what did you do” He mumbled, growing dizzy from the mix of drug and pain.

A few moments later he completely passed out.

“Fuck” You hissed in pain, putting your bruising knuckles against your mouth. You didn’t think punching someone would hurt so damn much.

“y/n holy shit”

“Are you okay?”

“That was badass!”

The Party was fussing and cheering for you, but you didn’t respond, kneeling down by Steve next and counting up all the cuts and bruises he was beginning to sport. He was unconscious, that was for sure. But he’d be in for a world of hurt when he woke up.

“Come on, help me get him back to Jon’s bed” You called to the kids.

It was difficult moving him, but after ten minutes you’d managed to get him into Jonathan’s room to lie on the bed there. You were sat next to him, a cold wet rag in your hand, and the open first aid kit on the ground. It took you awhile to clean off all the blood and apply bandages where you thought they were necessary. There was a frozen bag of peas you’d put over one of his eyes to stop the swelling, but so far it still looked pretty bad.

The Party had sat with you for what felt like a long time before you told them to go back to the living room and wait for the others to return home. Dustin put up a small fight about it, but eventually gave in and listened to your order. And now it was just you kneeling on the ground by Steve, watching over him carefully. Making sure he was breathing okay, and that nothing would begin to bleed again.

“Well King Steve, you got quite the ass kicking” You mumbled, just to yourself. Your fingers placed a few stray hairs on his forehead back into place. “But your crown is still there” You smiled to yourself, fingertips gently brushing his hair.

“y/n?” Your eyes looked back at him as he mumbled, almost incoherently. “What happened?” The poor boy’s eyes weren’t even open.

“You put up a really good fight” You told him softly. He winced, the pain probably beginning to settle in.

“Did I win?” He groaned, eyes clenching shut momentarily. You bit down on your lip and shook your head, even though he couldn’t see you.

“You put up a really good fight” You repeated yourself, playing with his hair again. Steve sighed, knowing the answer.

“Is he gone?” He asked, eyes finally beginning to flutter open.

“Yeah… yeah he won’t be back any time soon, I’m sure” You answered. Steve looked up at you, smiling down gently at him. He smiled back instantly, and moved his arm to push your hair back, but even at it’s slight movement you winced in pain. “You’re in pretty bad shape” You told him quietly. “But you’ll heal up alright”

“Are you okay?” He asked, and you nodded.

“Yeah, yeah I’m fine” You shrugged slightly. “We’re all really worried about you. Dustin thought you were dead” Steve chuckled painfully, shaking his head a little bit.

“Are they alright? Max and Lucas?”

“Yeah, we’re all good Steve” You hummed with a slight nod. You leaned forward, a little closer to him to check on the eye swelled under the bag of peas. You frowned, seeing the black and blue bruise that only seemed to be spreading.

“I’m alright, don’t fuss so much” Steve said, putting his hand over the bag and pushing it back against his face. Your eyes met his for a moment.

“You’re pretty bruised up Harrington” You sighed, taking the wet rag in your hand and dabbing it gently on his bruised cheek. “There’s not an inch of your face spared”

“It’ll be fine, I’ll heal up”

“Years from now, maybe” You replied sarcastically, and he smiled at you while you carefully pressed the cold cloth to his face.

“You’re beautiful, you know that?” He murmured, and you looked at him for the briefest of seconds before going back to work. Now is not the time to talk about feelings, you thought to yourself.

“Yeah? Go play hero some more and you’ll never see anything again” You told him, and he shrugged slightly, not having a response to that.

“I just wanted to remind you. In case you haven’t been told in a while” He said. You bit on the inside of your cheek to keep from smiling too much. You looked down at him, your eyes softening slightly.

You leaned over closer to him, pausing for a moment before pressing your lips lightly against his. It was a chaste kiss, only lasting a few seconds as you didn’t want to hurt him anymore than he already was. When you pulled back, you smiled nervously at him, and he only smiled back at you.

“You’re lucky you didn’t die Harrington” You said, and got right back to work on pressing the rag to his wounds.

“That I am” He replied cheekily.

You giggled softly, smiling down at him and wondering just when he’d changed so much.

You knew he’d give his life for these kids too, just like you would.

love me some babysitter steve

xoxo ~ jordie

#stranger things #stranger things x reader #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things imagine #stranger things scenario #steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington scenario #steve harrington imagine

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themand0lorian · 3 years

Text

Pride & Prejudice & Mandalorians (i)

Summary: Two new faces appear in Mos Eisley. One; charming, friendly, easy-going. The other; rude, brackish, and royalty.

Pairing: Din Djarin x F!Reader (no Y/N)

Rating: PG-13 (nondescript mentions of parental death/medical centers)

Words: ~4100 (AO3)

Tags: Pride and Prejudice AU, Enemies to Lovers, Slow Burn, Light Angst, Mutual Pining, Unrequited Love; This is P&P. You know what happens.

Notes: The feedback on my teaser was crazy incredible!! I can’t believe how many people were interested in this idea I’ve been working on for so long. I hope it lives up to expectations!!

I know no one cares, but I went back and forth as to who should be Mr. Bingley in this AU--Cobb fits better personality-wise but Boba fits better relationship-wise to Din. I went with Cobb in the end, but I have plans for Boba if you’re a Fett Fan!

gif from @fernandabarrera

The words spoken in someone’s dying breath are supposed to mean something; some prophesize, some lament. All too often in this galaxy, some beg for mercy. Overall poetic, they’re often left with the living, in remembrance and comfort, a lasting token to take as they face life moving on. When your father died when you were a teenager, he had little to leave his wife and daughters but words alone; your mother left in destitution, your eldest sister in mourning, your youngest too small to understand the finality of the med center and unplugging of machines. The last words he spoke to you, quiet in the dim medical cot with all sorts of machines and tubes and wires hooked to him as your mother and sisters lay sleeping in uncomfortable waiting room chairs, often ring in your mind all these years later.

“Follow your heart, Kitten.” The gravel of his voice still makes your throat ache; the silent understanding that this would be the last words spoken to you makes your chest tighten. “It will always show you the way.”

He passed the next day.

With a newly empty bed, your mother did the only thing she knew to do—she packed up you and your sisters and moved closer to what she knew, desperate for help with three daughters and no skills. After settling in with your aunt, she did her best; found job after job, meager credits making their way almost directly to hungry mouths. You weren’t well off, by any means, but you were comfortable enough, the four of you seeking peace in the new normal of Tatooine.

It only took a few years of running herself ragged to land your mother in the same place as your father seemed to just leave; a sterile medical cot in a center full of people who didn’t care whether you could afford her care. Everything felt eerily similar; tubes and wires, murmurings of numbers and words you didn’t recognize. This time, though, you were convinced she would make it out—that the four of you would be back in that stucco hut in no time, that with a little rest and a lot of expensive tests she’d be back harping on you about buying the wrong kind of meat at the market or whether your tunic was too short.

You were so convinced, in fact, you didn’t expect her final words to you to be her last. Before you departed for the day, your mother pulled you close to her chest, forcing your head to turn and look through the windows of her room. In the hall sat Jas, the eldest—the picture of beauty and grace as she came into herself—and Lyra, the youngest, just starting to develop into a stubborn teenager, the two looking with wide eyes as they waited for you to walk home.

“Take care of your sisters, Kitten,” she murmured into your ear—no one had called you “Kitten” since your father’s passing, his own special name for you. Quick witted and fierce, never afraid of using her claws; but soft and forgiving, still figuring out her way. The nickname caught in your throat, and when you tried to look to her in confusion, she held your head in place. “Maybe find a man who can protect you all and marry him. Certainly there’s plenty of strong men on Tatooine for you.” You groaned in response, rolling your eyes at her assumption that only men could protect you three from the evils of the galaxy, that you were cut out for marriage at all--strong willed and perhaps a bit mischievous, you had all the love you needed with your sisters and your mother at your side. Unwilling to fight what seems like the repeated battle, you left her with a wave, leading your sisters back to your home for the night.

Your mother died early the next morning.

That left you, Jas, and Lyra, plus the little M4 droid you had rebuilt from scrap, as the only family you had left in the galaxy. Them, and your Aunt Peli. More family friend than family relation, she still counted in your heart.

It took years to pay off your mother’s medical treatment, supplemented by work in Aunt Peli’s shop that she definitely overpaid you for and by Jas’ mending and tailoring. Lyra occasionally pressed some credits into your hand, but too young to work, you thought it best not to ask where she got them from. Once the debts were paid off, the three of you, plus the half-defective cleaning droid, continued to live in your little mud house; you and Jas shared your mother’s previous room, giving Lyra—who was younger than you both by over 10 cycles—her own space in the second room. Sometimes, you and Jas would spend hours into the night chatting or reminiscing, poking fun at your father’s outdated mustache or your mother’s penchant for sweet rolls. You’d talk about Lyra’s latest boy toy, Aunt Peli’s current droid frustrations—you and Jas were practically inseparable, sisters by day and moonlight confidants by night for any thought, fear, or worry that needed to be set into the world. You both acted as Lyra’s caretakers the best you could, keeping her fed and clothed until she was old enough to get a job, but the three of you were content and happy, moving like clockwork in unspoken ways only sisters could.

Therefore, it was surprisingly startling when Lyra burst into your little cottage at full speed, mouth running faster than her feet as she babbled to whoever would listen. Jas put down her mending to try to follow, but despite her almost twenty cycles, Lyra still spoke at a speed rivaled by children.

“Lyra, Lyra! Slow down,” Jas requested. Jas was by far the mother hen of the three of you—calm, nurturing. Undeniably beautiful. It was a wonder that some Tatooinian man hadn’t snatched her up like your mother wanted. Lyra took an exaggerated breath before continuing.

“The-Mand’alor-is-in-Mos-Eisley!” She said as almost one word. M4 whirs behind her, chirping excitedly like it understands her tone.

“Oooookay. So?” You question, finishing up the dishes you had been washing to turn and face your sisters.

“What’s a Mand’alor?” Sweet Jas asked.

“Like—covered in armor, the best warriors in the galaxy, fly on jet packs! You know! He’s the king of their whole planet!” Jas looked to you for help.

“Doesn’t matter. Why are you so excited by this Lyra?”

“Because, a warrior just strolling on in means that something is about to happen! And he was with the Mos Pelgo Marshal, what’s-his-name, so maybe I can—I don’t know—and he’s royalty, so he’s got to be rich--ooh, do you think they’ll be at the cantina later?” Lyra had trouble keeping down jobs, flighty and childlike-excited in almost any scenario, but Jas shut her down.

“Oh, I hope not. I don’t want to deal with royalty,” Jas rolled her eyes innocently. Lyra looked to you with a crooked grin.

“If they do, Lyra, I want you to stay away.”

“But—”

“No buts, now go get ready for work,” you ordered, and Lyra dramatically and dejectedly made her way to her room. Jas looked to you with a shrug before going back to her mending, but you had a feeling in the pit of your stomach that Lyra was about to get into trouble.

That’s how the three of you ended up in the local cantina; Lyra, working, though barely—sending fluttery eyelashes to any human-like man that came her way—and you and Jas, mostly acting as escorts. The usual crowd seemed to be there; the townies from Mos Eisley nursing their drinks or playing cards, a few travelers seeking refuge from the relentless heat. Some particularly brave souls dancing to the off-key band. Behind the bar, Cee—a Mirialan with royal purple skin and eyes to match—smiled at the sight of you. The two of you have been close friends since you moved to Tatooine after your father died; Cee and her brother immigrating to the planet around the same time, though her brother had long since travelled back to Mirial. Cee continued to stay despite her dead-end job and lack of close by family, citing the fact that she liked the heat more than the cold anyway, and you were thankful. Cee is like another sister to you, second only to Jas in favor but beating Lyra by miles.

“Your sister has yet to fill a single snort,” Cee comments when she brings you over some water. You roll your eyes in response, causing the girl to grin—she was the one who hired Lyra in the first place, and now you both watch as Lyra makes herself comfortable in the booth of a stranger. Before you can open your mouth to speak, a hush falls over the entire cantina; it feels like cards have fallen and music has stopped, and you wonder if time has stopped as well as you follow Cee’s wide eyes to the entrance of the cantina.

Standing in the doorway is the Marshal of Mos Pelgo, a settlement a cycle's ride from Mos Eisley, and another man—you think—covered head to toe in silver armor. Recognizing the visor, you know this is the Mandalorian your sister identified earlier, and dread settles in your stomach as you turn to Lyra, who has now forgotten the man who’s lap she’s practically sitting on to stare in awe at the helmeted warrior. When the two make their way to the opposite end of the bar, Cee goes to serve them, hands trembling as she pours a snort for the Marshal and retreats to the back of the room. When the Marshal begins to sip and the Mandalorian continues to sit rigidly in his stool, the music starts back up timidly, as if waiting for one of them to strike. After a few more moments without blasterfire, the cantina fully picks up again, grumbling and curses in all languages filling the space the cantina music doesn’t. Cee returns from the back with a wrapped parcel, handing it to the Mandalorian—you hold your breath when he places it in his bag, but his hands return to the tabletop empty, and you breathe again.

That breath is cut short when you see the Marshal stand up to talk to some of the townies, and the Mandalorian surveys the bar crowd; despite the helmet, you can practically see his upturned nose at the noise and raucous dancing, alcohol flowing freely. Certainly no place for a king. You watch as the Mandalorian’s gaze falls to you; part of you wanting to pull back, but determined to stand your ground, you hold it there—you with, what you hope appears as strength, and him with a void of a visor. You’re only brought out of your staring match when Lyra almost drapes herself over the Mandalorian, no doubt feigning an introduction. Without thought for Jas beside you or Cee behind the bar, you quickly slip to your feet to make your way over, practically pulling Lyra off the man with a sheepish apology to introduce yourself. You’ve never met royalty before, and to your own mortification, you curtsy—and the man has the audacity to chuckle. You speak before he can continue his laugh.

“Sorry about my sister, we really must be going—"

“Not now, Kitten!” Lyra whispers harshly, and you watch the warrior tilt his helmet.

“Kitten?” His voice sounds robotic, barely an uptick in tone in his question, and you elbow Lyra in her side, who at least has the sense to look guilty.

“Just a silly nickname,” you reply, glaring at Lyra. You want to try to be polite, to get on this ruthless man’s good side, maybe defend the little settlement you call home from his disdainful glare, so you try to be civil. “And your name is..?”

“Mando.” He sounds cold and almost ruthless in his telling, any lilt long gone and replaced with a robotic cadence.

“Mando?” you ask incredulously.

“Sorry, I thought we were giving ‘silly nicknames.’” You can’t believe how rude he’s being--you sneer a smile before saying goodbye, dragging Lyra away from the man. You both stop in the middle of the dancefloor when Cee makes her way over, handing Lyra a tray of dishes to be washed before whispering to you.

“Seems like Jas made a friend.” You look over to your previous seat to see it taken by the Marshal. The man is undoubtedly handsome; sandy-grey hair, a charming smile and easy demeanor. Jas looks enchanted by him; it’s the first time since your mother died that she looks truly happy and carefree, and when the Marshal stands and offers her a hand, which she takes, you feel her tug your heartstrings as they make their way to the dancefloor. Cee went to see to other patrons, leaving you alone in the center of the bustling cantina, until a modulated voice breaks your thoughts again.

“They seem to be enjoying themselves.” The sound causes you to turn and startle, a hand placed over your heart as you take in the warrior. Standing at full height now, it feels like he eclipses you; broad and bulking, tall, covered in impervious metal. His helmet, still emotionless, practically taunts you, and you flounder for something to say as you turn to watch the Marshal and Jas dance together to the band.

“Uh—do—do you dance much, Mando?”

“Not if I can help it.” The response throws you off balance, without a face to read if he’s joking or serious, so you only nod, closing your mouth tightly—it’s clear the man does not want to chat. Curt and short seemed to be his way; it was clear any Mos Eisleyan hospitality wouldn’t go a long way with him. The two of you stand and watch as several patrons, Jas and her new friend included, continue through the song, until Cee calls your name.

Lyra has apparently jumped ship, livid at your interruption with Mando and leaving Cee with the chores of the cantina alone, so you quickly jump to pitch in, to clean Lyra’s mess. It’s hardly the first time she’s left Cee in the lurch, and hardly the last time you’d step up to pitch in around the cantina. She’d be getting an earful at home, but now, cleaning glassware and taking orders, you barely have time to think about it. Cee sends you to refill a tankard behind the façade of the bar, which you do readily, only pausing when a voice catches your ear; hidden by the bar, you eavesdrop unashamedly.

“I’ve never seen so many beautiful women in my life!” You can tell it’s the Marshal, his slight Mos Pelgoan accent, and hide a smile at his words. “Can you believe how beautiful Jas is? And kind, and funny—”

“You have found the only beautiful girl in the room.” The modulated voice seems to make your heart fall to your feet, but you continue your duties.

“Well what about Jas’ sister? She’s pretty, knows her way around a ship apparently—” You bite your lip even harder, both terrified and excited by what Mando might reply.

“She’s—fine. Not for me.” The words feel like they sink in slow motion, the tank finally falling into place as you fight some unknown emotion in your throat. You barely knew this man, hated him for his attitude and feared his retribution—why did you care if he didn’t think you were pretty? Cee finds you squatting next to the tank, deep in thought, and pulls you to your feet with a shrug, clearly having overheard the conversation as well.

By the end of the night, you’re dead on your feet—walking quietly behind Jas and the Marshal—Cobb, he had introduced himself—as the two giggle; to your right, Mando walks a few paces behind. Cobb had insisted on walking you two home, Mando begrudgingly following. The alcohol has gotten to their heads; you watch as Cobb twirls Jas in the sand to music only they can hear, slightly off balance in the moving ground and the two trip into each other in a fit of laughter before continuing the journey.

“Never really understood the point of dancing.” Mando is straight to the point, tone even, watching as Cobb and Jas dance further down the corridor. You consider letting the statement hang between you, but his words from earlier hang there instead, and you have trouble biting your tongue.

“It’s certainly a good way to show affection.” You watch as Cobb swings Jas’ hand wildly between them, Jas practically glowing. “Though I suppose you don’t know much about that.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Mando has stopped in his tracks defensively, but you continue to walk.

“You said earlier you do not dance if you can help it. Just connecting the points,” you try innocently, though you know Mando isn’t buying it. By the time you get back home, Cobb bids Jas goodbye with a chaste kiss on the cheek, and Mando seems to stand expectantly.

“Well, thanks for walking us home, Mando. I hope you had a ‘fine’ evening.” You think you see his shoulders drop, but you’re quick to enter the house and shut the door, ready to put tonight behind you and maybe give Lyra a piece of your mind. You save your lecture for the morning when you find her sleeping peacefully in her room, holopad half out of her hand and M4 whirring in a pretend sleep at her feet, and instead make your way to bed yourself. You’ve barely settled before Jas is crawling in beside you like she did when you were young, giddy and perhaps a bit tipsy.

“Gods, Cobb Vanth is everything a man should be,” she says dreamily. “So strong and handsome. And smart as a whip—did you know he’s the Marshal of Mos Pelgo? The whole settlement!”

“I did,” you chuckle, but you can’t help to poke the bantha. “Sounds like someone’s in loooooove.”

“Oh, Kitten, the way he looked at me—I only wish I could feel this way forever.”

“I’m so happy you’re happy, Jas. You deserve it,” you reply earnestly. “Gods know you’ve liked your share of losers before—everyone’s great in your eyes,” you poke, and she rolls her eyes.

“Well not Mando—he was so rude! And Cee told me what he said—”

“It’s fine, Jas—”

“It’s not, Kitten—”

“Do you remember how I got the name ‘Kitten?’” Jas nuzzles further into your side with a smile.

“After that book you made Father read us every night. The Little Lothcat.” You scoff.

“Please, Jas, we both know it was because my teeth were too big for my face as a kid and when I smiled I looked more loth cat than human!” Jas dissolves into giggles at the memory, not contradicting.

“Still. No one should talk about my Kitten like that,” she pouts.

“Don’t worry, I’m sure he’ll be out of our hair soon and we’ll never have to see him again.” With that, Jas closes her eyes, seeming to fall asleep immediately. You spend the night huddled into one cot, Jas no doubt dreaming of the Marshal, and you dreaming of the day you watch the Mandalorian fly out of Mos Eisley.

You and Jas awake before the two suns the next morning—you, to prepare the house for the impending dust storm, and Jas, to roll into her own bed with a hungover groan. You plan your berating of Lyra as you pull in the washing, as you board the open-air windows. Once the suns pass the horizon, you make your way inside to count rations, several colorful insults concocted between each number. You’ve almost finished when you hear a shriek come from down the hallway, followed by the patter of feet.

“Jas-you-have-a-holo!” Lyra screams in one breath before you can stop her, waving the holopad she had in her grasp the night before wildly.

“Lyra, I know you didn’t watch Jas’ holo—” Before you can finish scolding, Jas sleepily makes her way into the room, grabbing the pad from Lyra and setting it on the counter as she smoothed her hair. If Lyra was the doting mother, you were the restrictive parent—you wanted what’s best for Lyra, but you also wanted her to behave, to grow into an honorable young woman, and someone needed to put her in line. Jas presses play before you can turn back around, and an image of the Marshal flickers to life—the three of you stare at it slack-jawed as he speaks.

“Hey there, Jas. I—gosh, I hope this ain’t too forward, but I had to head back to Mos Pelgo after our little get together last night. You know, Marshal business? Anyway, I was hoping—once you’re over that hangover, that is—” he chuckles, and you look to Jas, who is watching the projection like a lovesick fool. “I was hoping you’d come visit for a little bit. I could show ya the town, the people here. I think you’d really like it, Jas. And I’d really like to see you again. Well—I guess that’s it. Hope to see you soon.” The Marshal tips his head at the camera like he’s saluting before the image cuts out. The three of you stand in awe for a moment, only broken by an excited screech from Lyra and a shy chuckle from Jas, and you know she’ll make her way as soon as possible.

It hurts to watch Jas drive away on a speeder, but you know you couldn’t have stopped her. She had wanted to beat the dust storm, no doubt stranding her for days if she missed the opportunity, which you agreed would be best. Aunt Peli didn’t have any enclosed speeders she could borrow, so she set off in the open air after kissing you both goodbye, speeding into the distance ahead of the winds rolling in.

You can only hope Jas made it safely as the winds begin to batter your little home, sand kicking under the edge of the door as you try to stuff it with a towel. You know the Marshal will take care of her, but you suppose that’s exactly what you’re worried about—he’ll take care of her. And Jas will marry him and leave you with Lyra, here in Mos Eisley as she acted as the Marshal’s wife, a role truly fit for her beauty and grace; her sisters long forgotten. You shove the towel even harder under the door at the thought, fighting the indecisive emotion in your throat—you want Jas happy, but you want her happy with you. How would you take care of her all the way in Mos Pelgo?

It takes a few cycles for the storm to clear up; Lyra had become restless with the comms down and only you to entertain her, and you were more than ready to release her back into the world and out of your hair. You were ready for Jas to come back, for the three of you to be a little family again, no Marshals or Mandalorians or—

“Kitten! You got a holo!” Lyra doesn’t lift her eyes from the screen, continuing whatever game she was playing until you force the unit out of her hands and onto the table.

“Let’s watch. It’s probably Jas—” you bite your tongue when you hit the play button and instead of your sweet sister, Cobb Vanth appears saying your name, a holo from several days ago by the looks of it.

“Uh—hey. I just wanted to let you know, whenever this here storm passes and you get this, that poor Jas got stuck right here in the middle of it. She inhaled a lotta sand, so she’s feelin’ a bit under the weather—that storm sickness can really get ya, ya know? Anyway, not to worry, she’s getting all the best care Mos Pelgo can offer—”

“What are you doing?” You’re on your feet the second you hear “storm sickness,” Lyra interrupting the holo as the man seems to wrap up and then disappears.

“I’m going to Mos Pelgo.”

“He said Jas is fine!”

“Jas is our sister, Lyra, and I am going to Mos Pelgo to make sure she gets better. And you’re going to stay with Aunt Peli while I’m there.”

“Kitten! I’m not five!” Lyra pouts at the end of her sentence, and you look at her incredulously. She seems to realize her own mistake, uncrossing her arms.

“Go pack a bag.”

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lubdubsworld · 3 years

Text

Someone to Love.

Hello!!!

Here is my gift for 8k subscribers!!!

Alpha Jungkook x Omega OC Werewolf Au!

Genre ! : Fluff . Mild Angst. Mild Smut.

Work Count : 6k

Summary : Widowed Omega Aerin isn't really looking for love. But Jeon Jungkook the handsome alpha who gets washed over a waterfall, is willing to offer it to her anyway.

Complete!!!

The thing about living in a clan as small as ours, was that word always travelled fast.

We were a close knit pack, everyone knew everyone and more importantly, everyone was always in everyone’s business. Which is why, it was no surprise that, even before the Head Alpha could send word for me, I already knew about the young alpha who had , apparently, washed over the waterfall. The drop was a good twenty five feet and the bottom of the pool littered with sharp rocks. He was obviously injured.

As the healer, I would have to be there to examine him.

Nevertheless, I waited till Jinyoung came knocking on my door, sometime after the midday meal, his face urgent and voice a little shaky. I had just finished wrapping my daughter against my breast, tying the end of the flannel across my back and over my shoulder . I pulled on the ends, securing the wrap around my torso, and making sure her limbs were free to move about.

Sera giggled, chubby fists wet with drool as she shoved them into her mouth. She was teething and that meant excessive drooling and a penchant for biting everything I sight. But like this, she was usually well settled, the warmth of my body and my scent lulling her to a drwsy state. She would be asleep by the time we reached the injured wolf.

My son was still out playing with the other alpha pups in the woods. He wouldn’t be back till sundown. And even if he did, Joowon was almost nine winters old now. He could fend for himself in the hut till I got back.

I quickly grabbed my shawl, wrapping it over my shoulder, before moving to the door and opening it.

“Aerin? Alpha Kim sent for you, there’s an injured wolf you need to tend to.” He said urgently and I didn’t miss the four or five young omegas hovering behind him, giggling and coy. I shook my head. Apparently, even a half dead, injured alpha wasn’t safe from these younglings. I gave them a chiding smile but they merely laughed some more.

“Of course, Jinyoung . Let me just grab my bag.” I quickly picked the small carry-all tote I used for visits. It had almost all the tinctures, ointments and salves that I stocked in the apothecary attached to my hut, in smaller quantities. I also kept a polished set of needles and tools in case I had to extract stubborn splinters of jagged rock ends out of flesh. For being one of the strongest breed, it was ridiculous how often alphas got hurt doing the silliest things.

Like going over a waterfall.

As we began the short trek over to the Head alpha’s cabin, the throng of smitten omegas surrounded me, looking bright eyed.

“They say he’s very handsome, unnie. And young!” One of them laughed.

I hummed.

“Then one must hope the rocks in the pool didn’t leave too much of a mark .” I said casually.

“I wouldn’t mind a scar or two, as long as he has his…you know..” Another set of giggles.

I shook my head, laughing. The girls were incorrigible but that was their right. They were all young, barely twenty and unmated. They knew nothing about the marriage bed , nothing about the intimacy that came with it. The love the commitment. My heart ached.

Two years and still my heart ached something fierce .

“Just tell him he has to rest for a month at least, unnie. Tell him he can’t leave for a month and I’ll work my charm.” The Head Alpha’s daughter Jisoo gave me a sharp little smile and I shook my head.

“I’ll do no such thing. And I don’t appreciate you lusting after a man who may well be dying.” I said sternly and Jisoo had the good grace to blush.

“Unnie, its just that…. I’m bored of all these dumb alphas panting after me. They’re so…uncouth. I just want to meet someone new.” She pouted.

We reached the small hillock that would lead to the Head alpha’s house and I gave her a smile.

“Well, in that case, I’ll patch him up real good for you. But till then, you and your girls, why don’t you go occupy yourselves elsewhere.”

Jisoo wrinkled her nose but listened and I smiled at Jinyoung, hugging sera closer to my chest and making haste to the hut in front of us. Jinyoung led me to a side door and further into a room at the end of the narrow corridor.

“Aerin! Child… You’re here!” The Head alpha held his arms out and I embraced him quickly. The injured alpha was laid out in the middle of the room on a thick pallet of straw and blankets. They had stripped him of his wet clothes and he looked like he was sleeping. I stared at his face and felt my breath catch.

He was breathtakingly beautiful. I couldn’t look away. Right up , I could make out three flesh wounds, jagged and slightly deep : one across his brow, another across his shoulder and one right over his chest. Dark ink curled all over his torso and he looked young but also like a warrior.

“We just found out he’s from the Jeon clan. The head alpha’s son.” Yugyeom, knelt by his shoulders, pointing out the inked shoulder which marked him as the heir to the Jeon pack.

“We’ve already sent word. They’ll be here to fetch him in a day or so. We need only tend to him till then. Well. Give him all hospitality and treat him like a king. We need to remain in the Jeon’s good graces.” The Head alpha said sternly and all of them bowed.

I quickly, grabbed my bag, laying it out on the floor and crawling over to his side.

“Hot water and spirit , please.” I told the maid standing by but the Head alpha quickly held a hand up.

“Aerin ah? I have a meeting here with the Min and Jung clan leaders. The autumn festival is set to begin tonight. Its impossible for me to keep him here and all the other alphas are going to be busy too. I want him to get the best care possible and I can think of no one better than you, fort this task. Can we shift him to your hut?”

I swallowed nervously. I didn’t really entertain patients in my house. Especially not alphas. My son got jittery and my daughter was too used to my own scent.

“As a personal favor to your alpha?” He said insistently, eyes flashing red and I realized it wasn’t a request. Rather a command.

“I… Yes, alpha.” I said hesitantly. “ Can I just examine him now, make sure nothing’s broken, before we shift him?”

“Yes of course my dear.” The alpha bowed before stepping aside. I quickly glanced at everyone else.

“Please leave.” I said quickly and they flushed, bowing before moving out of the room.

“Should I stay , Aerin?” Jinyoung asked nervously and I shook my head. “ Just wait outside and close the door for me, Jin.”

Once the door shut, I quickly glanced down at Sera who had curled into my chest and fallen asleep. I brought a bit of the fabric by chest over her head, so she wouldn’t get too much of the alpha’s scent. Kneeling down, I went about peeling the blanket off him.

He was a beautiful man, I thought absently, long limbs and thick muscles all over and it was no doubt his strong, well kept body that had saved him.

Other than a few more surface wounds on his legs and a gash on his thigh, he seemed relatively unharmed. I did run my fingers over his joints and arms, carefully looking for any swelling or discoloration that would signify broken bones. I carefully gripped his shoulders, turning him over gently to examine his back. I made a mental note of all the cuts that looked like they would have to be sewn together, so I could prepare enough string for it. I leaned over to press my ears against his chest, noting the rise and fall of his lungs.

A hand brushed over the back of my head, gentle and soft.

I jumped, wrapping both hands around sera and scooting back in panic, eyes wide as I stared at the man on the floor, now blinking tiredly at me.

“I… I..” I couldn’t get my words out and he groaned .

“Am I dead? Are you an angel?” He whispered.

I blinked, blood rushing to my face as I tried to calm my breathing.

“Jinyoung!!!” I yelled sharply and the door opened, Jinyoung stepping in and staring wide eyed at the alpha on the pallet. He was struggling to sit up and I quickly pulled myself together.

“Alpha Jeon! Please… You must stay still. ” I said quickly, pushing my palms against his chest, helping him lay back down, trying to ignore how his eyes danced all over my face, nostrils flared .” I’m Aerin, the healer from the Kim pack. You remember what happened today?”

He groaned again, lifting a shaky hand to press against his head. I moved closer, gently reaching out to grab his wrist, pulling his fingers away from the still wet wound on his brow, and his eyes clashed against mine, wide and steady. He stared pointedly at where my fingers curled around his wrists and I let go quickly.

“Yes….. one of the pups almost went over the waterfall. I… I tried to get him out.” He said softly. He glanced at Jinyoung. The latter looked away, clearly nervous.

“Pup?” I asked, heart dropping and he gave me a small smile. I tried not to let my gaze linger on his lips as he chuckled lightly.

“Can you help me up, kid?” He asked softly and Jinyoung startled, glancing at me.

I shook my head. I turned to Jungkook, heart racing. He sighed, resting back against the bed.

“Don’t worry, angel. I managed to toss her back to her father just before I went over the edge. I’m certain that she’s perfectly alright.”

“well, that’s a relief.” I hesitated, feeling awkward. Sera stirred and Jungkook’s gaze went to her again.

“she’s yours?” He asked gently and I blinked, glancing at Jinyoung nervously. It seemed too personal but I couldn’t imagine not answering without seeming rude.

“Yes, sire.” I bowed politely, moving back a bit more as Jungkook inhaled and reached out again, this time gripping my wrist. He scented the air and I flinched , yanking my hand away and quickly standing up, uncomfortable. He was still staring at me, gaze steady.

“You… You can tell the others that he’s conscious. We can move-” I stopped when the alpha cut me off.

“You don’t smell mated. You haven’t been with a man in years.” He said quietly and now Jiyoung looked uncomfortable too.

“Alpha Jeon, I-”

“Jungkook. Call me Jungkook.”

My heart jumped at the thought of addressing him so intimately. I shook my head.

“I’m looking for a mate. Can I court you, angel?” He said suddenly and my jaw dropped.

“There’s… There’s a dozen unmated omegas outside.” I choked out. Was I dreaming ? This couldn’t be happening.

“That’s not what I asked. Whom must I speak with? To court you? Your Head alpha.” He turned to Jinyoung. “ Please send word to Alpha Kim that I require an audience with him. And that its very important that he come here as soon as possible.”

“Please don’t.” I said quietly, feeling my body tremble and he froze.

“What’s wrong?” He said quietly.

I shook my head.

“I have a son. I’m not… I have a son. He’s almost nine winters old. He still… He loves his father. The man who raised him… I can’t…. it would break him. Please, Alpha Jeon. You have power here and I have none. Your word is law and I’m bound to honor it but please, please consider. My son…”

Jungkook’s gaze softened incredibly at that.

“I have a ten year old brother.” He said gently. “ What you’re saying is that it isn’t the head alpha’s approval that I need. It is your son’s.”

I blinked, thrown.

“I…”

“Then you must promise me this. If your son…” He paused, “ What’s his name?”

“I… Joowon.”

“If Joowon tells you that he wouldn’t mind having me in his life….will you consider letting me court you.”

I could only stare. Jinyoung cleared his throat looking completely enthralled by the drama unfolding in front of him. I saw a glint of mischief in his gaze and felt my hackles rise.

“Alpha, there’s a festival in our clan. It lasts three weeks and is filled with festivities and joyous celebrations. I do believe the Kim pack would be honored to have you stay with us, enjoying our hospitality and the bountiful gifts of nature we here in the lowlands enjoy.”

I gaped at him in disbelief.

“I… “

“That’s settled then. I will send for my pack members as well. They would love to share this time with you.” He turned to me.

I exhaled, certain that he had hit his head on the way down the falls.

“You’re insane.” I said softly, shaking my head. “ You’re free to enjoy all that my clan has to offer…. But, I’m not on the menu, Alpha Jeon.”

I quickly stood up.

“Tell Alpha Kim that he can fend for himself in one of the huts we have for heats and ruts. I’ll send one of my apprentices to sew up his wounds and apply salve on him.”

“I’m afraid not, Aerin. You know what the chief said. It has to be you.” Jin grinned and I glared at him.

Jungkook was smiling too.

“Come now, angel. Just because you don’t like me ….yet… don’t shun your duties.”

Good Lord.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Fucking hell, what the actual fuck…” Jungkook swore and I glared at him, grabbing a strip of white linen and balling it up before pressing it into his mouth, gagging him.

He stared at me, eyes wide in surprise and mouth open around the fabric.

“Stop swearing in front of my son.” I snapped. Joowon laughed, carefully threading the twine through the eye of the cleaned needle. He dipped the twine and the needle into the warm water and the spirit again.

“Come now mother, you know I can say worse things.” He stuck his tongue out and I glared at him.

“Not in this house, you can’t. Also keep it down… I’ve just put Sera to bed.” I carefully pinched the skin over his chest together before reaching out and slipping the needle into his skin. I worked carefully and diligently, focused on the task and when I was finally done, I glanced up, only for my gaze to clash with Jungkook’s.

“I.. were you staring the whole time?” I asked, blushing. Jungkook spat the gag out and grinned, boyish and naughty.

“Can’t help it. The view is truly breathtaking.”

I rolled my eyes.

“I wasn’t kidding when I said that there are omegas here who would love to be courted by you. You haven’t met any of them yet and that is why you seem to be … so… “ I shook my head.

“Joowon ah… Who’s the most beautiful woman in this clan?” Jungkook asked firmly and my son hummed from next to me.

“Mother, of course.”

I gaped at the pair of them.

“See? I trust Joowon’s judgement implicitly. “ Jungkook shrugged.

Joowon laughed again and I didn’t miss the looks he kept tossing at the alpha. Curious but also laced with a lot of admiration. I wasn’t surprised. Joowon had never been suspicious or hesitant in offering his friendship to people. And Jungkook had regaled him with tales about hunts and fishing trips and kayak rides in rapids….. and the younger was now clearly intrigued and almost halfway to smitten with the man.

My own heart raced , pulse pounding in a way it hadn’t in years. And yet, I knew it was futile. Men like Jungkook…. They didn’t really fall in love with women like me. All these flowery words, all this flirting….it was for one thing only. And once he got it, he would leave. Of course he would.

But that was the problem. For the first time in two years, I considered it. Considered letting him have it….have me. But with it , came a nagging wish that he wasn’t joking. That perhaps, I wasn’t as….undesirable as my late husband had made me feel.

I shook my head to clear the haze of dreams, impossible girlish dreams that came with his scent and his proximity. I didn’t want to go down that road. I wasn’t… I may be younger than Jungkook but I was still too old to be courted and to start a new life with someone. Least of all someone like Jungkook.

I glanced back up at him as I carefully applied salve on the stitches, fingers light on dusky smooth skin. He was still staring at me, and as I bent in closer, his hair brushed my forehead. My eyes fell on his nipple and my mouth went dry. I breathed out and looked up at him, shaking my head and pulling away.

“You’re all done alpha.” I whispered.

His hand crept up to my knee, squeezing gently.

“I’m just getting started.” He whispered and I bit my lips, looking away.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Father… you shouldn’t have come .” Jungkook was groaning and I could only stare in horror , trying to process the fact that both Alpha Jeon and his wife were now standing in my hut, fussing over their son and ruffling his hair like he was five years old.

“Nonsense !” Alpha Jeon thundered, making me jump. “ You went over the waterfall and you expect me to not be worried. I brought our healer but I see the Kim clan has an exceptionally talented young healer themselves. My son looks as good as new , dear girl.” He grinned at me and I smiled shakily.

“I’m going to court her, father.” Jungkook said without any preamble and my heart dropped to my knees. Lady Jeon’s gaze snapped to me and I retreated further, clutching Sera to my chest in panic.

“No.. I.. no he’s not. I’m sorry, Alpha, I… I should go…” I dived for Joowon’s wrist, yanking my son along and moving to the door.

“Wait, child.” Lady Jeon’s voice made me still and I bit my lips, squeezing my eyes shut in horror. Surely whatever was coming…it couldn’t be good… t would be the same thing I’d heard over the years, the same threats, the same insults…

“Let me look at you.” Lady Jeon said and I trembled a bit, turning to her nervously, prepared for rejection and annoyance.

I found none.

All I could see was genuine interest that morphed into pleasure as she took in my features.

“What a beautiful girl you are.” She whispered , “ You can do so much better than my savage son, who apparently doesn’t know his way up or down a waterfall.”

Jungkook growled from the bed.

“Mother.”

Lady Jeon gave him a look.

“I’m serious. The Kim clan , I’m sure must have several fine young men, all of them willing to court her. What makes you think they would hand her over to you, Jungkook.” He said regally and I hesitated.

“I… I’ve been mated before. These are my kids.” I said hesitantly.

Lady Jeon blinked.

“Does that make a difference?”

I couldn’t respond, mind in shambles.

“Unless …what we’ve heard about the Kim clan isn’t true? And they are archaic and small minded when it comes to their women?” She said sharply, turning around to glare at my Head Alpha who looked horrified as he bowed.

“of course not , my lady..we… We all treat Aerin with the utmost respect.. She is as our daughter.”

“That is not what I asked. Has she not been courted?” Alpha Jeon asked gruffly and Jungkook made a noise of impatience.

“I’m saying I’ll court her, why is everyone-“

“Quiet Jungkook. “ Lady Jeon said sharply before turning to me.

“Have you not been courted after your husband’s death. Its unheard of for a young wolf to remain without a mate. Did none of the men in your clan step up?”

I hesitated before deciding on the truth.

“Joowon-ah? Could you go play outside for a while?” I said softly and he hesitated before glancing at Jungkook and running off. Once I was sure he was out of earshot I turned to Lady Jeon.

“They only offered to take me on as a mistress.” I said honestly, staring at my feet. “ And … I have a son. Old enough to understand these things. He… He heard his friends talk about how I was … He asked me if what they said was true…. If I was just anyone’s to use or take, now that his father was dead. I…. I had to reassure him that it wasn’t the case…. That I wouldn’t… That I didn’t need to warm anyone’s bed to survive.”

“She’s coming with us tomorrow.” Jungkook growled from the bed and I glared at him.

“Please let me finish.” I snapped. “ And yes, there are men here who feel that way but Alpha Kim is right. They have for the most part, treated me with great respect and I … I enjoy my life here. I’m not lacking for anything..” Except someone to love, someone to hold through cold winter nights, someone to share bright spring sunshine with…someone to kiss in the rain… someone who would go to war for me…

“So? You don’t accept my son’s offer of courting? Is that what you’re saying?” Lady Jeon asked gently.

“Don’t answer that.” Jungkook’s voice came from my right and I stared at him.

“Alpha Jeon…”

“Could all of you give me a moment alone with her?” Jungkook said quietly and Alpha Kim bowed.

“Please let me show you to your resting quarters.” He said gently and Jungkook’s parents shot him one last look before leaving the cabin. I stayed still as everyone filed out, one after the other.

Once it was just him and I, Jungkook cleared his throat.

“Just three weeks.” He said softly, “ Give me three weeks. Three weeks and if at the end of it you tell me that you don’t want to leave your clan…I’ll accept it without argument. You’ll never see me again.”

I sighed in exhaustion.

“You’re going to be here for the three weeks of the festival anyway. My answer isn’t going to change. I’m not going to fall in love with you, alpha Jeon. ” I said quietly.

He grinned.

“I’m going to remind you of what you just said….six months from now…when you’re my wife.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Jungkook was out and about three days later and to my utter horror, jealousy reared its head when I saw the extent to which he was popular with the other omegas. I stayed in the sidelines, holding sera and keeping an eye on Joowon, watching Jungkook get accosted at every turn.

But Jungkook it seemed, had no interest in wooing me.

He was wooing my son.

“These are delicious, Jungkook.” Joowon said excitedly, hands full of candied fruits and honey dipped grapes.

“Stop calling him that…” I hissed , but Joowon merely stuck his tongue out at me, stuck firmly to Jungkook’s side. Jungkook sat on the hard ground of the hut, surrounded by wooden strip and workmen tools, building a miniature windmill for Joowon who had never seen one before. The wind didn’t hit the lowlands much but Jungkook’s clan lived up hill and the windmills helped bring water to the canals.

He gave me a grin, his eyes trained on my lips as I sung gently to Sera, rocking her back and forth on my arms.

“You must give some of that honeyed fruit to your mother too, won-ah… perhaps she will have something sweet to say to me.” He grinned.

I rolled my eyes.

“I believe you’ve heard enough honey dipped words from the many omegas who can’t get enough of you.” I said impishly.

Jungkook laughed.

“ All I need is one word from you my lady….” He whispered and I flushed.

“ One word? No matter the question…? What word is that. ” I shook my head.

“Yes.” Jungkook smiled. “ Because it is that way with me. No matter the question , if you were the one asking, my answer would be yes.”

I stared at him, thrown by the magnitude of sincerity in his tone.

“Mother, ask him if he hates you…” Joowon giggled snapping me out of my thoughts.

I laughed and Jungkook glared.

“You’re supposed to be helping me brat.” He said with faux anger, eyes still excessively fond as he pulled my son into a playful headlock.

I watched them wrestle around Joowon smiling in a way that I had never seen him do in a long long time and my heart ached. Was it wrong… I wondered, to be this greedy? To want a lifetime of this….

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“ They say you never mourned him.” Jungkook sat on the rocking chair, shirt unbuttoned and Sera lying on his chest, the warmth of his body and the staccato of his heart lulling her to sleep . I sat on the floor, leaning back against the wall, Joowon was already asleep nect to me, head resting on my lap.

I watched him, watched the large, rugged hand, so gentle on my daughter’s back, stroking her gently, as he hummed sweetly.

“there was nothing to mourn.” I whispered bitterly, threading my fingers through my son’s hair, the silky strands falling through like water.

“He wasn’t a good man then.”

I shook my head.

“He married me when I was sixteen. And when I was old enough to see him for what he was, he didn’t want me anymore. And he died because he tried to rape the Head Alpha’s daughter.” I felt that familiar sickening feeling of disgust.

Jungkook didn’t say anything merely staring off into the fire blazing in the hearth.

“Is that why you think…you’re too old?” He asked gently and I flushed.

“It didn’t help with my self esteem.” I admitted.

“And is that why you..hesitate? To tell me how you truly feel.”

“It’s complicated. I … It s not easy baring my heart to you…” I looked away.

“You’re beautiful. I want you. Everyday I feel like I’m falling deeper.” Jungkook said quietly.

I stared at him, stunned.

He turned around and smiled at me.

“It’s not complicated for me. Its hard to watch you keep me at arm’s length. It’s hard to go to sleep on the floor, knowing your warm body is at touching distance. Its hard watching these omegas mistreat you because they’re jealous of the attention you get from me. And its hard….telling myself I can’t just pull you into my arms and kiss you in front of them all so they know . ” He smiled, “But telling you how I feel? It’s not hard at all.”

I felt my mouth go dry and stared at my knees.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Marry me.” Jaebum had cornered me by the apothecary and I stared at him in shock.

“What?” I snapped, “ What nonsense is this? Move out of my way.”

“Alpha Kim wants Jisoo to marry Jungkook. He has asked one of us to get you out of the picture. And no one else wants another man’s sloppy seconds. I’m the only one who agreed so you should be honored. Just say yes and come with me.”

He made to grab me and I stumbled back in terror only to crahs into a broiad back, right behind me. A familiar scent and strong arms coming around to hug me.

“Perhaps, Alpha Kim should reconsider his plans. Because I’m sure he doesn’t want the entire Jeon clan to come to war with him.”

Jaebum stepped back.

“you would start a war over some omega?” He scoffed.

Jungkook grinned shaking his head.

“No. But I would start a war over my woman.”

Jaebum scoffed again before spitting at his feet and walking away. Jungkook glared at him till he disappeared from view. My limbs started trembling the moment I realized what had just happened. After years of working for these people…healing them and mending their wounds….Was this how they saw me?

I went limp in his arms and he hugged me close.

“Angel….are you alright?” Jungkook whispered and I swallowed, turning around and staring at him.

“I… They… Why would he do that?” I whispered and Jungkook reached out cupping my face gently.

“I don’t know. But he’s an idiot. As if I would let another man lay a finger on you…” He said softly and I laughed, shaking my head.

I looked back up at him, letting my gaze fall to his lips. As if on cue the heavens opened and it began to rain… Jungkook swore, moving to find shelter but I grabbed his arm, pulling him closer.

“Alpha Jeon…” I said quietly, water dripping down my face as the rain intensified . “ Will you kiss me?”

Jungkook’s eyes went comically wide. He was already dripping wet, hair falling in soaked strands into his eyes.

“Wh-What?”

“I’ve waited for many years for this kiss. A kiss in the rain. With a man who would go to war for me.”

Jungkook laughed at that and I stared as he leaned down, gently pressing his lips to my forehead. Tears sprung at the tender gesture and I gripped the fabric of his tunic hard. Laughing I buried my face into his chest, as he pressed a multitude of kisses on top of my head.

“Angel. When I kiss you for the first time…it’s not going to stop with a kiss.” He winked.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Leaving my clan was easier, when I reminded myself of what they had done. But I did my duty, offering my greetings and farewell to all the elders, before moving to link my fingers with Jungkook , who held Sera in his arms.

“ I owe you my gratitude. Because you’ve kept her safe all these years. But from now she holds no ties to your clan.” Jungkook said firmly, and I stepped closer to him.

I watched as Jungkook’s father shared a ceremonial glass of wine with the head alpha.

And just like that, I was no longer a Kim.

I was a Jeon.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Mother…” I whispered , mortified , watching Lady Jeon, wrap my daughter in her baby clothes, Packing her clothes and Joowon’s clothes as well. “ Please it isn’t necessary.”

“Nonsense. Jungkook and you need to spend time together. Alone. And I need to spend time with my grandchildren. I’ve already missed out on nine years of Joowon’s life , I refuse to miss out on another second. Besides, he has never seen a windmill he says? My husband has made arrangements for us to pitch our tents right next to one.”

I could only smile and watch as my excitable son practically bounced off the wall, eager to go on a trip with halmeoni and harabeoji.

Jungkook stood next to me, wrapping both arms around me.

“Say the word and We’ll leave in a hour right behind them.” He said gently and I smiled, shaking my head.

“No… your parents want this. I can tell. Let them enjoy some time with their grandkids.”

“Excellent.” Jungkook gripped my shoulders and turned me around.

“I’m in the mood for some honeyed words.” I said quietly.

“Jeon Aerin. My angel. Mine and Mine forever.” He said softly.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Six months later :

Jungkook pressed kisses down my back and I grinned into the sheets, watching the springtime sun spill into our room, soaking the sheets in warmth . I stretched as he gently turned me over, feather light kisses on my belly, now slightly curved . He pressed his ears to the taut skin, listening.

“What is that, pup? Oh…yes.. yes yes… You’re right . Absolutely right.” He pulled away and climbed top of me, gently parting my thighs before slotiing himself in between. I sighed as he pressed against me, gently pushing in till he was buried to the hilt inside me.

“God, that feels good…” I whispered and Jungkook hummed, pressing a kiss to my ear before biting the lobe between his teeth.

“Know what our pup just told me , wife? “ He whispered and I looked at him, curious.

“What?”

“Well, he told me that I should remind you that you were so sure you would never fall in love with me.”

I shrugged.

“I’m sure you were once, pretty sure that you would never get washed over the waterfall.”

Jungkook laughed.

“Touché. So we both admit we’re wrong ?”

“The perfect marriage.”

Jungkook kissed me nose before beginning to move gently inside me again and I closed my eyes in bliss.

Someone to hold during cold winter nights.

Someone to kiss in the rain.

Someone to love in the springtime sun…

Someone like Jeon Jungkook, the perfect alpha.

AUTHOR'S NOTE : I LOVE ALL OF YOU. THANK YOU FOR 8K.

#jungkook fanfic #jungkook x reader #jungkook au #jungkook smut #jungkook fics #bts smut #bts smut fic

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scarletwidowaf · 3 years

Note

Yelena Belova x reader “fake dating” to actual!!!!

Plssssss :) 🥲💛

Moral Of The Story

Yelena Belova x female reader, scarlewidow mentioned.

A/N: might be messy, might be cheesy, but I truly don't care because I live for this chaotic due.

warning: stupidity maybe

words: 2000ish- probably more.

masterlist

You don't know how but somehow training with Yelena always ended up with you being pinned down on the training mat.

"Fuck" you cursed frustrated as she pinned you down for the 3d time in a row. Yelena laughed before she stood up and held out her hand for you to take.

"I let you win!" You said as she pulled you up.

"Sure you did" she joked.

"Seriously. I let you stomp on my dignity because I have a favor to ask!" you said back, a goofy grin playing on your lips as you passed her one of the water bottles.

"Now, that's gonna be interesting" she said as she sat on the floor, her back facing the wall. She gratefully took the bottle from your hand as she waited for you to talk.

"be my girlfriend" you said. The two of you were always comically stupid, so of course that you said that at the same moment she was taking a gulp from her bottle and of course she choked- and of course you laughed.

"I'm Sorry" the blonde glared at you.

"You're not" she responded in between coughing.

After a few moments, she finally stopped coughing and your laugh dyed out as well.

"You're right. I wasn't." You laughed again and she shoved you playfully.

"So, did you seriously just asked me to be your girlfriend?" She asked. Her lips forming her famous-troubled-maker cheeky grin.

"Well.. my fake girlfriend to be exact" you corrected yourself and she laughed again.

"You know you could've started with that, right?"

"And what's the fun in that?"

You smirked at her, knowing full well she found the random question amusing.

"So Why me, anyway..? - Wait, Let me guess.. kate and carol said no and you're scared of Wanda?"

"Okay first I'm not scared of Wanda, I'm scared of your sister.. there's a difference. And Second; my parents in town.. and I kinda told them I have a girlfriend.."

"Oh, now that's classic" Yelena, obviously, found the situation hilarious and you couldn't blame her since you found this dumb conversation amusing as well.

"Does it mean you'll do it?" You asked.

"Yeah why not" she responded you raised an eyebrow at her waiting for the catch. With Yelena, there's always a catch or at least a stupid comment.

"Yeah. I want to meet the poor souls who had to deal with your stupidity on a daily basis for the last 20 years..."

And here it is. You thought.

"I will punch you" you threaten her.

"Kinky" she smirked.

"Whatever stupid. I'll pick you up tomorrow at 8" you said as you got up from the spot next to her.

"Wear something nice"

_______________________________

The thing about Yelena is that you can never know what to expect. No matter how much time you spent with her, and it was a lot, she somehow still managed to surprise you.

This time was no different. but in her defense, this time the blame is definitely on you. You saw Yelena wear different kinds of outfits, from gear to fancy dresses, yet for some reason, you just didn't expect the other girl to wear a suit, and damn she looked good.

The gray suit fit her perfectly and her long blonde hair was down. She looked painfully beautiful and you couldn't help but stare- and she couldn't help but notice.

She wasn't doing better, on your defense. The blonde checked you out shamelessly before she sent you a smirk "How lucky I am" she joked and you rolled your eyes.

"Very lucky.. and so am i" Yelena smiled at you and held her hand out for you to take.

The ride was short and 15 minutes later you were standing outside the restaurant.

You could feel Yelena's gaze on you as you bit your lip nervously. "It will be alright" she assured you as she interviewed your hands together. "Thank you" you looked at her gratefully "Don't sweat it" she replayed with a soft smile.

That was the thing about Yelena, people always misguided her for someone she wasn't and it always made you mad. God, Of course, she was strong and fierce and brave and absolutely terrifying at times- but She was so much more than that. She was sweet and loyal and caring, and kinda funny (don't tell her) and absolutely beautiful- inside and out. One of your favorite things about her was her shy and sincere smile, which seemed reserved only for you.

"You ready?" She squeezed your hand. you took a small shaky breath before smiling back at her. "As ready as ill ever be"

The restaurant wasn't busy and it didn't take you long to catch your parents in a corner in the far back of the room. Both smiling wide as you walked towards them. Your mother's smile was contagious and you couldn't help but smile back. God, you missed them.

"We've missed you so much" your father said as he hugged you, your mother doing the same.

"I've missed you too" you confessed before tugging Yelena forwards them.

"I'm assuming that's the girlfriend," Your father said and you nodded. God, You were nervous and Yelena could sense it as she reached for your father's hand.

"Yelena." She introduced herself As they shook hands. Her grip firm and her smile dazzling. "I'm Y/D/N and this is my wife Y/M/N" he introduced himself as well.

"Glad to finally meet you. I heard a lot of great things about you" She said with a confident smile.

Both of you could tell the older man was impressed by the blonde and you couldn't help but smile.

"Were happy to finally meet you as well- although we can't say the same since pumpkin over here hasn't said much about you"

Yelena smirked at you as you blushed deeply. You knew she wouldn't let you forget about the nickname. Like, never. "Yeah, it's actually pretty new. It wasn't really planned neither" she explained.

Your mother, God bless her, wasn't the one to shook hands. The moment Yelena was free from your father's grip she found herself in the woman's warm embrace.

"Okay... I think we should start ordering" you said when Yelena was free again. Her cheeks were a bit flushed. The Russian Assassin wasn't used to be hugged and you couldn't help but smile.

The conversation was light, the wine was good and most importantly, your parents loved Yelena. which was understandable considering the fact she was annoyingly charming.

The Yelena that sat next to you with her hand on your lap was the best version the blonde could pull and you felt stupid for being worried in the first place. Yelena led the conversation with politeness, charm, and grace that you never knew she had in her- and your mom seemed impressed. Impressing your dad was even easier- Yelena didn't even have to try, all she had to do was show her intelligence and add some light humor.

After an hour of light and mostly general conversation, amazing food, many embarrassing stories of you on both sides, and 2 glasses of wine, your mom decided to take the conversation into her hands.

"So Yelena. Tell us about yourself."

Oh boy. Now that might be a problem.

"Well... I joined the avengers a few months ago" she explained "Not long after I met your daughter actually," she said simply.

"That's nice, and before that?" The older woman asked.

"I was a freelance.." Yelena gulped. Her hand squeezes yours

"As?" Your mom asked. You knew she didn't try to push Yelena into this corner, she wasn't this kind of person, but she definitely put the blonde on the spot.

"Well... I was involved with the black market and different criminal organizations. Jobs like getting undercover to dig information or well.. getting rid of powerful men in the criminal world.."

Your parent's eyes went wide. Your dad stared at her with wide eyes and your mom cleared her throat.

"I don't do it anymore" she continued. The blonde seemed as nervous as you felt.

"How did you ended up in this line of work? If I may ask?"

"Mom I don't think-" you started and Yelena smiled at you.

"No, It's fine babe.." she said before moving her attention back to your parents "Sometimes life gets you to places where you have to do bad things to survive."

Your dad's expression was unreadable and your mom seemed worried as she glanced at you.

"Yelena and I met when her sister recruited and pulled her out of this life. Yelena is a good person, despite everything she's been through. That's what I love the most about her." You said.

Yelena smiled softly and your parents exchanged looks.

"I'm a different person now" Yelena promised

"We believe you... but I can't help but worry for my daughter, as you can surely understand. What if the people you've been involved with. Try to get to you through Y\N"

Your father asked calmly. Both were taking it better than you expected and you couldn't blame them for being worried.

"Dad. I know it might come as shocking.. but I'm a big girl and I'm well aware of the risk of being involved with Yelena. I need you to trust me when I say that risks, some worse than the mafia, were a part of my life long before we met."

Yelena bit her lip to hold a smile and you interviewed your hands again.

"You're a doctor" your mom argued "I'm a field doctor. Of the avengers." you corrected her. "which means I'm more of capable of taking care of myself."

Your dad nodded softly to your mom before he smiled at you. "You're are.. Don't you?" He laughed. "Mu little pumpkin.." he sIgh and your mother smiled as well

"I just want you to understand that all we want for you is to be safe and happy. And even a blind man can see Yelena gives you that." He sent Yelena a soft smile. Yelena smiled back at him.

"Take care of my daughter.. she's a keeper" your father said firmly.

"She is. And trust me, I will" she promised.

_______________________________

"Well, that went well" you laughed when you got into the passenger seat. Yelena volunteered to drive which was a relief since you were exhausted.

After the two of you got into your seats the blonde sent you a small smile and took something out of her pocket.

"Is that? A bullet..?" You asked confused as you took the copper cylinder from her hand.

Yelena laughed softly.

"It is. It's the same bullet you stopped me from shooting at Natasha" she confessed.

"I was in such a bad place back then and I blamed Natasha for it. If it weren't for you things would've been very different now" Yelena whispered

"Yeah, both of you were dead since you would've shot her, and Wanda would've probably hunted you down and kill you" you laughed and Yelena's shoulders relaxed.

"Probably" she said. "But with all seriousness... I was aiming a gun at my own sister and instead of pulling your own gun at me, you decided to shield her with your own body and dare me to shoot you as well. Who does that!?."

"You thought I was insane" you laughed.

"I thought you were stupid, putting your life at risk to save someone fucked up like us! someone like me.." She confessed and it downed on you.

No matter what happened or how many good things Yelena had done in her life, she couldn't let go of who she was trained to be. She still blamed herself for all the terrible things she did back at the red room and she constantly tried to get closure by doing the exact opposite- which was probably the reason she killed all these bad men in the first place. But then Natasha came back for her, and Yelena blamed her for leaving her behind to live with the things they did. She felt betrayed and broken, and Natasha's return only made it worse. Like she was just pitting her broken sister.

"All I know is that the Yelena I stood up to and the Natasha I saved that day were not the villains the red room tried to create." You whispered.

"You truly believed that? Even then?" Yelena was crying softly and you cupped her cheek.

"Especially then! I know you don't see it, but I'm here to remind you, you're a good person. Truly. You have a good heart- and I've seen it"

Yelena's cheeks were stained with tears, her eyes red and puffy and her famous crooked smile was plastered on her lips.

"And that's why you love me?"

She was a mess just like back then- when she was aiming a gun at her own sister as who she thought she was and who she truly is were fighting for dominance.

She was tragically beautiful and scared both then and now, yet somehow at the same time, she was more sure and confident than ever before. And I guess that what life is all about. Sometimes, things start to make sense only when everything else doesn't.

"Wasn't it obvious, stupid?" You said and stroked her cheek carefully as she melted into your touch.

Yelena smiled before kissing your hand softly, without breaking eye contact with you.

"You're the stupid one and you know it. Taking an assassin as your dinner date." She joked and you nodded and looked briefly at her lips.

"Well, stupid or not, I still manage to get a kiss at the end of it." Yelena laughed and got closer to you.

"Yeah you did" she whispered and kissed you.

And that was the thing about Yelena. She was good and kind and loyal. And a damn good kisser.

#yelena belova x reader #yelena belova #wandanat #Scarlet Widow #natasha romanoff #florence pugh x fem!reader #florence pigh x female reader #florence pugh x reader

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sunmoonandeddie · 3 years

Text

feelings are fatal (17/24)

pairing: bucky barnes x reader, past steve rogers x reader

word count: 3,346

summary: After the events of Endgame, you struggle to come to terms with what you’ve lost, though you’re learning that you still have something to gain.

chapter warnings: swearing, violence, creepy men

masterlist

a/n: HEYYYYY HAPPY TWO YEAR BLOG BIRTHDAY TO ME!!!!!

Bucky’s heart was pounding as he finally shook the last of the Hydra goons that had been chasing him, glancing every which way just to double check.

He didn’t feel good about this.

It hadn’t even been ten minutes since the two of you had gotten separated, and he hated it. Granted, he always hated being away from you, had since you were fifteen.

Back then it was because he didn’t trust the Red Room instructors. Now it was because he was in love with you and being away from you made him feel like a part of his heart was missing.

Speed walking towards the entrance of Coney Island, he dug his phone out of his pocket and dialed Pepper’s number.

“Oh, my god, thank god. What the hell is wrong with you?” Pepper demanded angrily of him. “Do neither of you know how to answer your phones? Are you okay?”

“I don’t know,” he said. He could hear his blood pumping in his ears. “We had to separate so I could try to lead the bad guys away, but they just… disappeared. I’m heading for our meeting spot now.”

Morgan and a few other kids were babbling in the background about how their day had gotten cut short, but he knew that the littlest Stark would understand better than anyone else once they explained to her.

Pepper was suspiciously quiet for… a long time. A long, long time.

“Pepper?” Bucky whispered, his voice cracking.

There was an unspoken question between them.

What if he’d fucked up?

Should he have stayed with her?

What if they’d gotten to her?

And one that was looming over his head, heavier than ever.

What if he never got to tell you how he felt?

“I’m here,” she said reassuringly.

“What if…” Bucky’s heart cracked inside of his chest. His throat was closing up with each passing second, his flesh palm sweaty. Keeping his grip on his cell phone was becoming a challenge. “What if I n-never g-get to tell her h-how I feel?”

“Don’t think like that.”

“God, I’m so fucking stupid,” he cursed as he made his way to the aquarium. His eyes flickered around the crowd, almost hoping he’d see the two women from earlier. They would’ve recognized you and might’ve seen you.

But there was no sign of them.

“Those fucking special skills or whatever would really come in fucking handy right now,” he cursed. With the way people were parting like the Red Sea in front of him, he knew he probably had his less-than-friendly expression on.

His Murder Face, as you called it.

Or his Resting Bitch Face, according to Sam.

Bucky ran his vibranium hand over his face as he tried not to panic. For one, he hadn’t even gotten to the meeting spot yet. Most likely, you were there waiting for him and he was worrying over nothing. “Tony and Natasha will haunt me forever if I let something happen to her.”

A sigh resounded over the phone. “You didn’t let something happen to her, Bucky. Hell, we don’t even know if something is wrong with her yet. But they both know that you have… you have literally devoted your entire being to taking care of her, protecting her. You did what you thought was the best option in the moment. And maybe… Maybe there was no getting out of that ambush without something happening to one of you.”

Rounding the corner to the tunnel, his heart stopped inside his chest.

You weren’t there.

“Bucky? Bucky? What’s going on? You there? What’s happening?”

It was like the world around him had gone fuzzy, and all he could hear was a ringing in his ears.

You weren’t there.

You weren’t there, and it was all his fault.

He told you to go to the tunnel.

How fucking stupid was he? The tunnel was possibly the worst place he could’ve told you to go to. It’s closed off, a literal tube with water all around you except two very small exits that were easily blocked.

What had he done?

Slumber had come easy for you for once. You were so exhausted, even your bones weary, from dancing all day. And by all day, that meant for over twelve hours because of your sadistic new instructor.

The last one had been… disposed of.

You’d woken at sunrise as usual and gone straight to ballet, only for the instructor to not let you go after the normal three hour class.

The rest of the girls filed out of the dance studio, some glancing back at you in curiosity.

There was no worry in their eyes. It was every girl for themselves these days.

If you thought real hard, you could remember a time when you all looked out for each other. You would braid each other’s hair, give a warning if any of the instructors or Madame B were near. If someone didn’t wake up when they were supposed to, the girls would shake her awake and help her get ready on time.

But that time was no more.

Those that ran the infamous Red Room didn’t like when their… students banded together. Things were better for them when you all hated each other and sought ways to sabotage the others.

It made you more likely to kill during a sparring session, and they only wanted girls who were willing to go all the way.

“Is there something you needed from me, madam?” You asked, your hands folded behind your back, spine straight, your chin high.

Good posture had been beaten into you within a week of arrival.

You didn’t forget a lesson like that anytime soon.

The instructor was new to you girls, though you had been told she wasn’t new to the Red Room. She’d been one of you, once upon a time.

One of the few who had survived to graduation, and then lived long enough after to be brought back as an instructor.

“I’m told you’re a prodigy,” she drawled as she slowly walked towards you, her platinum blonde hair pulled into a tight ballerina bun much like your own. While all of you girls wore black leotards, hers was a pale lilac, a shimmering rehearsal skirt tied around her waist that swished around her thighs. “That you are Madame B’s new pride and joy… Though, just based on your dancing, there is absolutely nothing to be prideful of. It is a surprise to me that you haven’t been… taken care of.”

The implication was clear.

Just based on that morning’s class, she thought you were bad enough at ballet to be killed.

Was it possible she just wanted you executed now? Was she about to do so?

Even though Madame B would be pissed, there were more girls that they could train. She’d only be upset for so long before she’d have a new prodigy, a new pride and joy.

Before the Soldat would have a new trainee.

Before your Soldat would have a new trainee. All the other Soldats could have all the trainees they wanted, but your Soldat, your Seven… The thought of him training another girl made bile rise up in your throat.

“Do you have pointers for things I could work on, madame?” You asked, shoulders tensing as she circled you. Like a vulture ready to scavenge a dying animal.

“I simply thought I could lend you some extra practice time,” she said, a sickly sweet smile spreading over her lips as she looked you up and down. “And don’t worry about Madame B and your other instructors. I already let them know that I wanted extra time with you today.”

The way she was speaking was setting off alarms in your mind.

“Perfect,” you said clearly, not letting your fear show. The instructors could smell fear and would use it against you until your heart stopped beating.

“Do you know the role of Aurora in the Sleeping Beauty ballet?” She asked, eyes cold. When you nodded, she chuckled. “Good. You’ll be dancing it on pointe, start to finish. Now.”

You were shocked when she then turned and started the music, but you did as she said.

Now, Pyotr Ilyich Tchaikovsky’s Sleeping Beauty is his longest ballet ever, at almost four hours long.

And you danced all of it.

“Below average,” the instructor said, glaring daggers at you. “Again.”

You needed water desperately, your lungs fighting for air as you pretended to be unbothered by having done that by taking slow, even breaths.

But you had to do it again.

And again.

Every time you finished, she gave some comment about how your dancing was shit, how you’d never be good enough.

At this point, you wished she would simply kill you and get it over with. You were exhausted and your muscles felt like they were going to give out at any moment.

“MALEN’KAYA!”

You fell out of your pirouette in your shock, gasping as your ankle twisted and you fell to the ground. “Fuck!”

Your Soldat stormed into the dance studio as you looked up, eyes wide.

When had he gotten back? He’d been on a mission for the past few days, and fuck, you’d missed him something fierce.

“Soldat,” the instructor breathed out as she stopped moving, staring up at him with blue eyes. “Remember me?”

“Yes,” he said, glaring at her like she was a pile of dog shit he’d stepped in.

She moved towards him, her hand coming to rest on his chest. “I was hoping to see—” She was cut off as he raised his hands to hold her face. The harsh woman looked so… soft for him. “I missed you. Did you miss me?”

“No,” he snarled, his voice dropping almost an octave. “You should’ve thought twice before touching my malen’kaya.”

The light that had been in her eyes when she first saw him quickly disappeared as she realized she was totally, and utterly, fucked.

Your heart caught in your throat as he so easily twisted her head, a loud snap ringing through the air. He let her limp, lifeless body fall to the ground with a thump before turning and rushing to you. The darkness that had been in his face was long gone as he pulled you close, his hands running over you to try to find sources of injuries.

It took you a moment to realize he was speaking, your ears ringing as you stared at the dead woman on the ground.

“—you okay? What the hell happened? Who allowed this?” He asked, talking a mile a minute as he checked over you. Once he finally got to your pointe shoes, he took in a shaky breath. “I have to check,” he said as he reached for the pink ribbons tied around your ankles.

In the two years since you’d known him, you’d never seen his hands shake like they were.

Your eyes locked in on his face, his brows furrowed and his cheeks flushed, as he tentatively untied one of your pointe shoes. He slowly slipped it off, his breath catching in his throat as he looked at your foot. It was only when the second one came off that you finally looked at the damage.

Well… You were sure your feet could have looked much worse after dancing for over twelve hours, but… It still wasn’t pretty.

“I’m okay. It doesn’t hurt that bad,” you lied, trying to soothe him.

He was usually much more composed than this, his face harder.

Even when he was feeling a bit nicer, a bit softer, it was nothing like this.

The Soldat shook his head, looking absolutely pissed. “You don’t have to lie. Never lie to me.”

“I’m not lying,” you insisted. “But that might be because right now, they’re numb, so I can’t feel anything at all from about my ankles down. But that does mean I didn’t lie.”

You were attempting to joke with him, lighten up the mood a bit. However, he definitely didn’t seem to be taking the bait.

When you glanced over at the windows, for some reason you were surprised to see how late it was. “Oh.”

“Yeah,” he drawled as he scooped you up, leaving your pointe shoes behind as he carried you to the locker room. The man was somehow almost completely silent as he set you on a bench and grabbed a first aid kit out of what seemed to be thin air, before gently cleaning away the blood.

Water was dripping somewhere in the locker room, the droplets hitting the tiled floor with soft clinks.

“You were gone,” you whispered, eyes trained on his face. He was still so handsome, even with the frown lines that were starting to appear. Not that you could blame him, everything he’d been through would more than warrant a few wrinkles. “You were gone so long…”

The Soldat’s eyes were soft, despite being the color of the ice that coated the windows. “I know… I can’t stand being away from you, but if I didn’t go… They’d find some way to punish me.” His rough flesh hand cupped your cheek. “And I think they’re starting to catch on that the best way to punish me would be through you, malen’kaya.”

For a second, you thought he was gonna kiss you. From the way his eyes flicked down to your lips and back up again, you could’ve sworn on your life.

But then he took in a deep breath.

And his hand left your cheek.

You tried to push down the disappointment that welled up in your throat, biting your lip.

“Come on, malen’kaya,” he said as he finished wrapping up your poor feet. “Let’s get you to bed.”

The other girls were already sleeping when he carried you into your room, each one of them with a single wrist handcuffed to the bed frame.

“Hate knowing that you’re locked here all night,” Soldat said, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear as he approached the only empty bed in the room. “It’s like… putting a lark in a cage. I don’t like it.”

“I know,” you said. “But… It’s just how it is.” You looked up at him with bright eyes as he laid you down and tucked the blanket in around you, making sure you were nice and cozy before he took your left wrist and cuffed it to the metal frame.

“Get some sleep,” he murmured, brushing his metal fingers along your cheek. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Oh, God…

Everything hurt…

Why did everything hurt?

It was like your head had been shoved under water, but your eyes were too heavy to open.

“—gotta take the video and send it.”

“How do we know he’ll come?”

“Oh, he’ll come. He’ll always come for her.”

Who was that? The voices sounded vaguely familiar, but not quite.

“His precious malen’kaya.”

You slipped back into unconsciousness even as you fought the darkness coming over you, slumping down again.

The clock ticked obnoxiously loud as you sat in the diner booth, your knee pulled up to your chest. A cold cup of half-drank coffee was sitting on the table in front of you.

You’d been waiting over an hour for him to show.

The lunch rush had come and gone, and the waitresses—in their rockabilly uniforms and roller skates—were shooting you pitying looks.

“This is fucking ridiculous,” you huffed as you got to your feet and slammed a crisp twenty dollar bill on the vinyl table top. “He asks me on a fucking date and then doesn’t fucking show. How fucking typical.”

It had only been two days since the mission where he’d asked you out on a date. Your ankle was wrapped, and you were under strict orders to rest.

So, of course, you’d dragged yourself out to this diner that he insisted on taking you to.

Well, meeting you at since you really, really didn’t want to deal with the awkwardness of riding in the same car.

If you were being honest, it hurt. A lot. You’d gotten your hopes up over the past two days, tossing and turning at night as you dreamed of what would happen on your date. Would it go anywhere? Would he end up being the love of your life?

You hadn’t had a crush on anyone since…

Well… Since your Soldat.

You missed him so fucking much.

And he wouldn’t have stood you up.

“Fuck Steve Rogers.”

Your face was flushed as you headed home, storming through the streets of Manhattan to the Avengers Tower. You needed time to stew, and the subway would be too fast.

“I should’ve just stayed home and taken that fucking bubble bath,” you huffed as you got in the elevator and rode up to the residential floors. Even if it had been meant to be a casual first date, you’d done your hair and stressed over your makeup, wearing your nicest pair of leggings and sneakers that didn’t have mud on the bottoms.

And even if the plan had been for it to be casual, you’d been looking forward to flowers and a kiss on the cheek, stealing a fry from his plate and maybe playing footsie under the table.

Just a little.

Like other girls got to do.

The elevator music was getting into your head, and there was no doubt it’d be haunting your dreams. But when the doors opened onto the common area floor, you were just about ready to burst into tears.

Because Steven Grant Rogers was sitting at the kitchen island and eating a sandwich as he laughed at some joke Rhodey made.

You couldn’t believe him. Was this his plan all along?

Steeling yourself, you straightened your spine and walked with purpose, planning on walking right by without even acknowledging him.

But of course, that wouldn’t be your luck.

As soon as Steve caught sight of you, he froze, his blue eyes going wide. Breathing out your name, he quickly scrambled to his feet. “Wait! Wait! Please! I’m so fucking sorry, I completely forgot!”

“It’s fucking fine, Rogers. It’s clearly a sign that this is was a bad idea in the first place,” you said, your voice cold enough to freeze him again.

“What?! No! Please, I’m just…” He groaned as he followed you onto the elevator that would take you up to the other residential floors. “I just had three meetings before noon and completely forgot! That doesn’t mean I don’t want this date with you!”

Taking a breath, you turned on him, glaring at him like he was a piece of dog shit on your shoe. “You know what the cherry on top of this is?” You asked with a laugh. “My first fucking date of my entire fucking life, and I get stood up. Fuck you, Rogers. Fuck. You.”

You’d successfully shocked him, and left him looking like a guppy, his mouth hanging open as he watched you leave him standing there.

When you came to again, you actually found the strength to open your eyes.

The room around you was like every stereotypical hostage room you’d ever seen in real life, and in movies.

Almost like the one Olivia Pope had been in on Scandal.

Though, you had a feeling that this one was real and wasn’t just a fancy set in a warehouse.

“Where am I?” You asked yourself, trying to take stock of everything. “Okay. Head hurts. Expected that. Don’t feel any sharp pains… so he probably shot me with a tranquilizer and not a bullet… Which is probably better for my chances of escape.” It was so fucking cold, your entire body was trembling. “No phone, so no way for the others to track me. Same clothing I was in… so at least there’s that.”

Your voice died as you heard movement beyond the black steel door in front of you, watching as it slowly opened. Your heart sank as you realized who was standing in front of you.

“It’s been too long, malen’kaya.”

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky x reader #bucky x you #bucky x y/n

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fanmoose12 · 3 years

Text

Levihan week 2021

Day three: Sunset

Summary: It's nice outside - not cold at all, the air is fresh and the slight breeze softly caresses his grey hair. And the sky, the sky is painted in all shades of blues and pinks and purples, with the bright red circle of the sun shining through the tree branches.

His life a constant struggle, Levi pictured the moment of his death more times than he could count.

He expected to die out of starvation without ever seeing sun. Then, he thought he'd die under the bright blue sky, with monster's giant teeth tearing through his flesh. He imagined he'd die from the other human's bullet, from his uncle's own hands, from the claws of an ugly, hairy beast. He thought he'd be trampled by huge, mindless creatures, unleashed by the boy who was once called the humanity's only hope.

But he was wrong. All these things, they got so close to killing him, they almost succeeded. But he was stronger, he survived all of it.

And now he is dying from the old age, surrounded by the only people who still give a damn about him.

It's peaceful, there are no screams, explosions or flames of wild fire. On the contrary, it's quiet in the room he lays in. Too quiet even, as the only sound he can hear is Gabi's muffled sobs.

"Oi," his voice comes out cracked, too weak. Levi tries to remedy that with his fierce look. But grey-haired and wrinkled, he doesn’t look even half as formidable as he once did. "I'm not dead yet. You can cry all you want after I kick the bucket."

"Levi!" Onyakopon's eyes open wide, as he hides his surprise with a palm on his mouth. "You can't say that!"

Levi chuckles, watching their faces with soft affection. They've spent so many years together, and yet they still are surprised by the shit that comes out his mouth.

"Maybe, you want something?" it's Falco, helpful and gentle as ever. "A glass of water, or—"

"Outside," he says, his eye darting to the window. "I want to go outside."

Wordlessly, Onyakopon and Falco help him get inside the wheelchair, and once he's sited, Gabi wheels him to the porch.

It's nice outside - not cold at all, the air is fresh and the slight breeze softly caresses his grey hair. And the sky, the sky is painted in all shades of blues and pinks and purples, with the bright red circle of the sun shining through the tree branches.

His gaze softens as he watches the picturesque scene. He always liked sunsets, despite the melancholia they provoke in him. His sun has been gone for a long time now, but the memory of her is bright as ever in his mind. Compared to her, the sun in front of him is a mere candle, it's nearly not as radiant. It doesn’t make him feel just as warm.

"You look so calm," Gabi says, her hand lying on his shoulder. "Aren't you afraid of... dying?"

Is he afraid? Of course, he's not, how could he be? He imagined death a thousand times in a thousand different ways. He never expected to die like this, but this soft and quiet end is more merciful than he could ever hope for.

Besides, he lived a long life, he never thought he'd get to grow that old. He lived a fulfilling life, he had but one regret. And soon, he hopes to rectify that mistake of his too.

"I'm not afraid," he answers Gabi. "I know I won't be alone."

"Someone is waiting, huh?" Onyankopon catches his eye, smiling. "Give my best regards to her."

"I will," Levi promises, returning his gaze to the setting sun.

"Let’s give him a moment,” Onyankopon whispers to Gabi and Falco, as he sees Levi’s eye go misty. “Levi wants to talk to someone else now.”

Levi doesn’t hear the kids' confused questions, doesn't hear them leave, too focused on the beauty in front of him. The beams still shine too brightly, they make his eye water. And as his vision starts to swim at the edges, he sees a lone figure at the horizon. It grows bigger and bigger, approaching him. He recognizes her form and shape immediately, despite his worsening eyesight.

The figure is waving at him, almost running now.

"Watch where you're going, idiot," he scoffs, feeling his eyes water for a very different reason now. "Or you'll fall on your ass."

His heart swells when the figure stops in front of him. Their eyes meet, and his chest constricts, Hange, his Hange, the love of his life, she's finally here. He's finally with her, reunited at last.

"Took you long enough," he says, his eye roaming all over her. She looks exactly as he remembers – beautiful, young and so radiant, much brighter than the sun.

"Took you long enough," she smiles fondly.

Just like that, the setting sun gets forgotten completely. Now Levi can stare at his sun.

"I'm here now."

"You are," Hange offers him a hand. "But are you ready?"

He takes her hand without hesitation. Already, he feels that much lighter, that much younger. Finally, his heart is at peace, reunited with its other half. "I am ready."

Hange nods and intertwines their fingers.

"Then let's go, Levi. Everyone is waiting."

The last sunbeams disappear behind the line of horizon, when Levi draws his last breath.

He dies with a smile on his face.

#levihanweek2021 #lhw2021 #levihan #not me using loras' quote from tsoiaf☠️

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sup-hoes-its-me · 3 years

Text

Happy (Naruto x Reader)

Request: "I was thinking of something that Naruto and Reader have been best friends for a long time, and one day she gets hurt on a mission, and he cries, but in the end everything ends well."

A/N: request for @writing-x-reader sorry it took so long, end of the semester has been very difficult. Also my first naruto fic. We will see how it goes. Hope I did your request justice! Not proof read at all, sorry about that.

Word count: 3000

_____

Jeez, how was it that someone like her managed to meet someone as perfect as him? It felt surreal.

She wanted to kiss him. She felt herself leaning forward just slightly, feeling her heart rate beat swiftly in her chest at the sight of his tired eyes laying beside her. He blew out steady breaths through his lips, and she thought they looked more kissable than ever before. He was such a sweet guy, so handsome and kind and brave, and everything in between. She wanted him to be completely hers, but that wasn’t happening.

So she laid back down beside him on the plush grass and sighed.

Could they ever be anything more than friends? It seemed impossible. He had that long time crush on Sakura, for one. But he was also so dumb when it came to love and all those things. He couldn’t get her hints, and she was too shy to just tell him outright. It just seemed like a hopeless dream to think they would ever date.

“Y/N?”

“Yeah?”

“You got a piece of something stuck in your hair.” Her hands ran to touch the strands that hung around her head, and he just laughed with a shake of his head. “Let me get it,” he told her softly, reaching out to take a piece of leaf from her hair. She felt her cheeks begin to heat up at his touch, and his kindness, and the way he was looking at her like she was the only thing in the world that mattered.

"Thanks."

"You know, you should wear your hair down more often. It looks really nice on you. I like it," the blond commented, his head propped up in his hand, hair falling into his face and shading over his eyes. He had that kind smile across his face, whiskers and all just adding to the look she adored.

Her cheeks grew warmer at his words and she opened her mouth to say something but nothing came out. Her nerves had silenced her. Instead, she simply shook her head and lowered her eyes, too bashful to maintain the eye contact.

"You- You're beautiful, you know? You really shouldn't be so shy."

Her heart raced at his words, and Y/N felt herself falling into a state of confusion and frustration. How could he say those things so casually, when to her it felt like he was playing with her entire heart in his hands? He was just so nice, and he always knew the right thing to say to make her like him even more, even deeper than she realized.

"Naruto..."

He laughed, leaning back against the grass and kicking one leg over the other. "What? Just being honest. Thought girls liked compliments?"

"No, no, I do. Thank you. I really should build confidence but it's not as easy as you think."

It was quiet for a moment, and she took that as her chance to get away, to clear her head and sort through all these conflicting thoughts.

Quickly, she gathered herself up and stood from the grass. She couldn’t be here anymore. She felt too many conflicting emotions running through her mind. She just wanted to be with him, but that was impossible. It made her stomach turn at the thought, and she just needed to get away, run as far as she could so she could be alone with her embarrassing crush on the hero of the leaf.

“I’ve got to go, Naruto.”

“Aw, really? It was so much fun just chilling here with you.”

He was having a good time? Of course he was, they were best friends. They wouldn't be friends if he didn't have a fun time when she was around. She shook her head softly to drown out her loud thoughts. “I’ll see you on our mission tomorrow, yeah?”

“Yep. See you.”

“Bye.”

She walked off with heat in her cheeks and heart resting upon her sleeve. She was just so stupid. Crushing on someone so unattainable. The next opportunity she got to confess to him, she would. Just get it done instead of obsessively thinking about it all the time. It was driving her insane, and she needed to fix the situation. Whatever happened, she just hoped they remained friends afterwards.

He was a sweet guy, he would most likely stay her friend and just forget about everything, right?

Just stop thinking about it all, she scolded herself. It wqould only make her more nervous, or even avoid confessing at all. What had to be done, would be done. Whether they stayed the same afterwards or not would be a different story, and she could only hope for the best.

_______

The blade came down upon Y/N with enough strength to pierce her skin and run all the way down her chest, tearing through the skin and some muscle as it did so. She cried out, so surprised by the attack that her eyes widened and she had to do a double take. That man was behind her just a second ago, how did he get so close so fast? She didn’t know. All she knew was that blood was soaking deep into her tunic.

If she had the strength left in her lungs, she would call out for her teammate, for Ino, to come and help her. She was a medical nin, right? But her chest ached, and the most she could get from her lips was a mere whisper.

Everything hurt. Her body burned like fire had touched it, and her skin was hot and sticky to the touch.

She laid back on the ground, without any hope. Someone would get to her when they finished whatever they were doing, she just had to wait. It couldn’t be long.

And it wasn’t.

Naruto stood above her in an instant, and he was quick to fall to his knees at her side. His hands anxiously hovered over the long cut from the knife, and if she were seeing correct, they were shaking fiercely. The strong and brave Naruto brought to a quivering state? She couldn’t believe it. Maybe if he had found Sakura lying here instead, she could understand, but not her. She wasn’t anything special.

“Y/N? Y/N? Are you alright?” he asked, leaning in closer to her face.

“I'll be okay,” she whispered, reaching her hand out to latch onto one of his. He grabbed up her hand the second he saw her struggle, and cradled it within his own, squeezing maybe a little too hard for comfort, but she could definitely manage. She could feel the heart radiating from his warm hands into her dripping cold ones. A small smile crossed her lips at the feeling, holding his hands. It was nice.

“Y/N, please. Ino- I don’t know where Ino went. Just keep trying for a little longer,” he pleaded,and at this point, she noticed the tears that were brimming his eyes, sliding down his cheeks so silently, she probably wouldn’t notice them any other time if she weren’t so entranced by his features through the hazy lens. “Please, don’t die.”

“I-I don’t know, Naruto.”

“Yes, you do know! Don’t just give up , please! Don’t give up for me, okay?” he exclaimed, and she winced at the height of his voice. Quickly, the boy hushed down, collapsing down at her side from all the sadness seeping into his body. “You just can’t die. I need you,” he whimpered, wiping away at his tears with his shoulder.

“Naruto-”

“I know you’re my best friend, and I know you don’t see me this way, but I love you, Y/N. I’ve felt that way for the longest time,” he confessed, and she felt her heart pick up in her chest, skipping a beat at the sudden confession. He loved her. Naruto Uzumaki, the boy of her dreams, was in love with her. She was high on the endorphins running through her body, and a soft smile lifted on her face. He only clutched at her hands harder, tears continuing to drip heavily down his cheeks. “You are just so perfect. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

She knew she didn’t have much time left. She was slipping across the line of consciousness, and she just wanted to get in one more thought before drifting to sleep for a while.

“I-I love you, too, Naruto.”

“Okay, so live! You have to now. We have to go on dates and everything! Come on, Y/N, please!” he cried, more hysterical now than ever. She sighed, knowing that there was nothing she could do to mend away those painful tears. She was dying right here in front of him and there was nothing anyone could do. They just had to wait until Ino found them and hopefully heal her enough that she could live. It was worth a shot.

And if she died? So be it. She was content. In her last moments, she felt Naruto’s love completely fill her heart and mind. That was the most she could hope for in a situation like this, being surrounded by someone who cares about you so immensely it hurts. She squeezed his hands gently, as she felt her eyes closing. He pleaded with her once again, but to no avail, she was out like a light.

He kept on crying, harder now that she was gone and he couldn’t even see her eyes anymore, or hear another word leave her mouth. He felt like everything was coming crashing down on him at once. His poor friend was lying in front of his dying, and he couldn’t do anything to help her besides leaving the body alone to look for Ino, or just wait. He wasn’t too found of the thought of abandoning her body out here in the woods like that.

He clutched at her cold hand in his shaky ones, trying to feel some comfort in the skin to skin touch. Anything to bring her back to him and make him feel like things were okay again.

Ino rushed out of the forest as fast as she could after hearing Naruto call her name a couple times out in the open. Her eyes widened at the sight in front of her. Y/N looked dead. Her body was so covered in blood she couldn’t make out an inch of her shirt that wasn’t soaked in it.

“What happened to Y/N?”

“I don’t even know. One second she was fine and the next she looked like this!” Naruto cried as Ino crouched one the other side of her body. Immediately, she set to work healing, and thankfully, there was enough chakra flowing through the girl’s body to signal a swift recovery. Ino wasn’t sure if she’d ever seen Naruto a blubbering mess the way he was right now. He was crying and sobbing, and shaking like a poor little leaf. The blond rightfully felt terrible for not being there sooner.

“Naruto, what’s wrong? Y/N is going to be fine, I promise.”

“I couldn’t even protect her. I love her so much, and I let this happen to her. What sort of friend does that make me?” he cried, trying desperately to wipe the tears from his eyes so Ino couldn’t see anymore. Guess it doesn’t matter though, does it?

“You love her?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, she definitely loves you, too,” Ino sighed, continuing her work. She could feel Y/N getting better with every second that passed by, and she hoped there wouldn’t be any permanent damage. There was no way to tell right now, so she would just wait.

Naruto’s brows perked, and he asked, “What? How do you know?”

“She’s told me. Like, a bunch of times.”

Naruto sat back, falling flat on his butt in surprise. Y/N loved him? For a while? She liked him enough to divulge in her crush to friends? How did he never notice? They were best friends, he was around her almost all the time. How could she keep something like that a secret? He thought he’d made it more than obvious that he had a crush on her, but he guessed she never noticed that either.

He was confused, rightfully so. Finding out your friend has a crush on is weird enough, but it being requited is a completely different thing. What would happen after this? Would they date? Was that even an option? Would she even want to? Maybe when she said I love you, she meant it as a friend. That could be it.

He really just couldn’t make up his mind.

He would just have to wait until they got home, when she was awake and sound of mind, before they could figure out what was going on between them. The waiting would kill him, he was sure of it. But it had to be done.

______

When they arrived back at the village, Y/N was taken to the infirmary immediately. She was hooked up to machines and laid down in a white, sterile room away from Naruto’s prying eyes. Rightfully so, he was anxious to see her. They had just confessed their love to each other, what else could be more pressing than that?

The boy walked around in spiraling circles through the waiting room awaiting the doctor to peek her head in and inform him of her condition. And she did, after a couple hours. She walked into the room and told him it was time to go and visit her, she would be waking up any time now.

She lay still in the bed, only soft breaths bringing her chest to rise and fall. He collapsed into the seat beside her bed and reached out, taking a hold of her hand and squeezing it. Maybe if he continued to squeeze her hand, she would wake up sooner, he thought. He needed to see her, to hear her voice, anything. Just seeing her laying in this bed was driving him insane. There was too much to talk about.

And when her eyes started to open, he found himself practically jumping up from his chair to be closer to her. She groaned, lifting her other hand to rub at her tired eyes.

“Y/N?”

“Naruto?” she asked in her sleepy state, confused as to why he would be there of all people. She turned her head to see the ball of sunshine sitting beside her, holding her hand even, and staring her right in the eyes. She felt heat begin to fill her cheeks. Was he that excited to make sure she was okay?

“I’m so glad you’re okay. I was so worried about you.”

“I-I’m sorry for making you worry so much,” she found herself mumbling the first thought that came to her mind, no matter how silly it may have been.

He clutched at her hand, shaking his head furiously at what she had just said. “Stop! Don’t say sorry! It’s my fault for not protecting a teammate out there.” It wasn’t his responsibility to make sure she was okay the entire time, he had other priorities of course. She sighed, shaking her head, but not arguing with him.

"You're right. But you did help me out when I was down and I appreciate that."

"Of course! It's what a good guy does," he chirped, but his mind was obviously on something else that they had avoided so far in their conversation. His eyes trailed to the table beside her, not wanting to look her in the eyes as he brought it up. "About what we said back there."

"Yeah, the confessions…"

He asked, doubt just now creeping up in the back of his mind, "You meant it, right?" She was in distress. It could have been a love confession out of desperation. He was definitely over thinking things, something he rarely did. He was so straightforward. Just calm down, he told himself.

"I meant what I said. I hope you meant everything you said too," she told him, still feeling that heat creeping up her neck and ears now. So embarrassing.

"You bet I did! I'm so happy you like me back! I've liked you for so long, Y/N."

"So that means we can go on dates like you said? Ramen dates, maybe?"

"Ooohh, Ichiraku dates. Sounds so good."

He was happier than he ever felt before, high off life and love and just so much emotion it was bubbling out. He smiled at his new found girlfriend, just watching as she went on about cute date ideas they could go on, her eyes lighting up and her lips curled up in a sweet smile he loved.

Times were good. So freaking good.

#naruto x reader #naruto uzumaki x reader #naruto imagine #naruto oneshot #naruto #naruto shippuden #request #writing #mine #one shot #x reader #if this isnt the best quality im sorry

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novelconcepts · 3 years

Note

I’m sure I’m not the only one hoping you’ll expand on your earlier post about the greenhouse “flat above the pub” flirt-o-Rama if Flora hadn’t...gone and been possessed and all.

“You know I live above that pub, right? Told you that already. Got a little flat right above the boring little pub.”

She knows what she’s doing, is the thing Jamie can’t quite wrap her head around. She absolutely knows what she’s doing. Where on earth is the woman from five days ago, the one who looked at her with such bruised eyes and swollen lips and tried plaintively to pull at her jacket? Where did she go, and who is this bold version in her place?

Dangerous, probably. Already, she’s lowering whatever meager defenses Jamie had managed to craft over the past week. Already, she’s blowing right past them as though never there at all, and Jamie doesn’t fully understand this. She’s never had trouble blocking someone out before--at least, not someone like Dani, who makes her feel...makes her feel...

Good. Makes her feel like the brightest thing in the room, most days. Makes her feel like no one has ever wanted her there so badly before.

The woman’s only kissed her once, and already it feels like she’s made a home for Jamie somewhere in her heart. Somewhere under all the bad she’s carrying, under all the flinching she’s done, all the death and loss and fear, there’s a place for Jamie. If she wants it.

She’s looking at Jamie now like she’s proud of how she walked in here this morning. Like she’s proud of how closely she’s standing, how she’s biting her lips now to hold back a grin so enormous, Jamie can’t help but return it. Five days away, and she returns to someone who knows what she’s doing--and what she’s doing is flirting so hard, it’s a wonder the table doesn’t catch fire.

Did that on purpose, she thinks wonderingly. What the fuck is happening.

***

The coffee, in its own way, worked. Not that she thought Jamie would actually like it, because honestly, it’s bad coffee--and Jamie is just too British for words--but the thing is, it was never meant to be liked. It was only meant to make Jamie smile.

Which it did. Eventually.

Or, she did. Is doing. Right now, as the words tumble out of her--Would you wanna get a drink? Away from the house. Away from all this. That could be kinda boring, right?--a part of her is desperately terrified to realize, she is doing this. She is leaning against this table, clutching a mug of truly toxic coffee, watching Jamie suck in her cheeks like it’s doing a damn thing to erase that smile. She is saying the words she’s been playing over and over in her head for five days running:

“You. And me. Could get a boring old drink. In a boring old pub.” God, her heart is sprinting. It’s entirely possible she won’t get out of this sentence, with all its halting hesitation, alive, much less this greenhouse. “And see where that takes us.”

And this is the part where Jamie will melt, she hopes. Swoon, even. The part the coffee laid road leading to, a glorious red herring approach. Here, where Jamie will see that she means what she says, and she’ll grow faint with whatever affection Dani has earned, and this will all be--

She’s grinning. Jamie, not quite facing her, is grinning.

“You know I live above that pub, right?” This is not, Dani recognizes, exactly what one might call a swoon. This is the expression of a woman who has done extremely quick math and come up with a calculation Dani had sort of hoped she’d swing right past. When she’d swoon.

She is not swooning. She is, instead, leaning slightly back, eyebrows raised appraisingly, reminding Dani in one fell swoop that there are people who are eager to flirt and people who are good at the art. And that Jamie, for all her glower and loner tendencies, is very, very good at the art.

“Told you that already, didn’t I?” Her voice is almost soft, definitely teasing, her expression perfectly arranged to say this is my territory, Poppins, and you had best be careful how you tread in my garden. “Got a little flat. Right above the boring little pub.”

And then she’s...turning back to the work. Turning away, not a blush to be found, not even the hint of a swoon. Dani’s expression, so carefully schooled into neutrality, is breaking into the biggest grin of her life and Jamie has the temerity to not even keep eye contact.

“I mean--you maybe...mentioned it--”

“Only,” Jamie goes on, still focused on the task at hand--which Dani does not in the least understand, though there’s something to be said for Jamie in profile: head bent, eyes attentive, hands working into soil. Jamie never quite looks so alive as when she’s working, as though it is only in garden or greenhouse that she truly allows herself to flourish.

Would she look that alive, Dani wonders with unbidden curiosity, anywhere else? Maybe in the boring little flat, maybe with me, maybe--

“Only,” Jamie repeats, darting a small glance her way. Dani realizes she’s staring, closes her mouth. “I figure there are plenty of places two people could go on a date. Which is, if I’m not mistaken, what you’re suggesting. Isn’t it?”

“It...I--yes.” No point denying it. No point trying to wash away the simple brazen fact. A boring little date. It’s not a big deal. It doesn’t have to be a big--

“So,” Jamie says, her voice still doing that dangerous thing Dani doesn’t quite understand and can’t quite turn her attention from. That dangerous half-soft, half-amused thing that is all accent, all in control, all turning Dani’s own courage back on her like a firehose. “We could do it anywhere, couldn’t we? Doesn’t have to be the pub.”

“I--” Dani resists the urge to close her eyes. She’s going to make me say it. She really is. This wasn’t the plan, exactly. The plan had been so much simpler. It had not taken into account Jamie, who is going down into this thing with her willingly--but maybe not easily. “I mean, I just--”

“Just curious,” Jamie goes on breezily, drawing her hands from the soil at last and taking a slow step closer. The space between, already limited at best, reduces to nearly nothing in that single motion. Dani swallows.

“About?”

“It’s particular,” Jamie points out. A slight shift of hips, a nearly negligible twist of the waist, and she’s got Dani backed into a corner. Or, more accurately, against a table. “The pub. Bit curious, is all, why you’d want to get me into that pub.”

***

This poor woman is going to burst into flames, Jamie thinks, and maybe they’ll both deserve it. She isn’t upset with Dani anymore--has found in the span of about five minutes that there’s no staying upset with Dani when she turns those huge blue eyes on full-force, stands just so, puts on the bravest face Jamie has seen her wear since stalking Peter Quint through the night. She isn’t upset, exactly.

But Dani seems to think this was going to be easy. A cup of coffee. A slick line. She seems to think Jamie was just going to lean into it.

Which she is. In her own way.

She’s careful not to touch Dani, not to press in with her body to such a degree that Dani will feel trapped. She’s only standing, a tiny width of space between them, her hands loose at her sides. Only standing, polite, smiling, waiting for an answer.

“Bit curious, is all, why you’d want to get me into that pub.”

“I don’t--I think--I mean--” Dani shakes her head slowly, her eyes wide and imploring. “Do you not...want to get a drink...”

“Didn’t say that.” The last five days haven’t been enjoyable. Burning sick days, pretending to be too ill to check in on the house, had felt cowardly. The shame in her stomach, twisting like acid around the hot desire of the memory, had felt familiar in the worst way--like being seventeen again, not knowing where to put all of these too-fierce feelings. Anger would have been easier. Disappointment, shame, embarrassment--each too heavy to put down on its own--had made for the worst kind of cocktail.

This, though. Dani looking at her--not needing to tip her head back, not needing to peer down, simply looking straight ahead and making perfect eye contact--feels good. Feels better than good. Feels like she’d felt in the moments before the flinch, when Dani had grinned into her mouth and pushed hard against her like she’d been waiting for this moment for days. This, Dani drawing deep breaths, clutching her mug, feels liking picking up right where they’d left off.

Dangerous, she thinks again. Dangerous, to let Dani in this way. Dangerous, to admit how alive she feels, teasing her this way.

Dangerous, every time Dani’s eyes flick to her lips and back again.

“You’re really not going to say it,” she says, shaking her head in a parody of disappointment, reaching in gently to pluck the mug from her hands and set it aside. “Poppins. Really. First rule of flirting.”

“What’s that?” There’s a challenge in Dani’s smile, she thinks. A challenge so light and so free--and so intoxicating in its authenticity--she can’t help but laugh. She makes a show of leaning close, watching Dani’s eyes darken, watching Dani’s breath catch.

“Always be ready to commit.”

***

She’s going to kiss me, Dani thinks. Here. Now. Six in the morning, she’s going to do it.

But, of course, Jamie doesn’t. Jamie, who thought it had been her Dani was trying to get away from the other night. Jamie, who took it so to heart she hadn’t even come back for nearly a week.

It’s been so strange, going through the motions without Jamie around. Strange and hollow, and Dani knows--the way you know you can’t keep holding your breath much longer--life will never feel quite as vibrant without Jamie in it.

Didn’t take long at all, she thinks, remembering the shadow of a young man standing before a dying fire. Didn’t take long at all, but I can’t not know that.

Jamie’s here now, a crooked little half-smile on her lips, her eyes bright, but there’s something she’s still holding back. Something she’s still not absolutely sure Dani won’t let fall, split upon collision with the ground.

She isn’t going to kiss Dani. She’s just going to stand here, making her crazy, smiling exactly like that.

“Always be ready to commit.”

And there are other things Dani could do, it’s true--laugh, push at her shoulder, make another horrific stab at imitating her accent. There is plenty Dani could do.

But just now, with Jamie standing this close, with the air crisp and this single room so different than it had felt days ago, she’s not sure she can be blamed for what she settles on.

Not sure anyone could blame her for sliding a hand around Jamie’s middle, pushing off the table, using the momentum to twist until it’s Jamie backed against the table, Jamie looking at her with genuine surprise on her face.

That, Dani thinks with terrified glee. That’s the look I was going for.

"Consider me committed,” she says, and though Jamie had been careful not to touch her, she finds herself unable to do the same. Her hips press Jamie backward, one hand clenching at the small of Jamie’s back. The other finds Jamie’s sleeve, less for contact, more a desperate bid for balance.

“Touché,” Jamie says in a low voice--not that easy flirtation tone this time, but something less in control. “My, ah. Hands are dirty.”

“Do you want me to come back later?”

Jamie laughs, leans forward, shakes her head. “Didn’t say that.”

It wasn’t the plan, to kiss her here. She’d meant only to apologize--or, not apologize, but make clear that she was sorry how it had gone, that there are paths she very badly wants this to take that are the right way, the best way, the way it should have been all along. She’d meant only to make that clear, to land her proposal, to make Jamie feel a fraction as giddy as Jamie makes her every damn day.

And yet, with Jamie kissing back, Jamie making a helpless sound of frustration as her hands tip backward to grip the table behind her instead of ruining Dani’s coat, it feels right. It feels like meaning what she’s said. It feels like commitment.

“For the record,” she adds, pulling away to breathe. Jamie’s knuckles are stark around the table, her elbows bent, her chest heaving. “This is why I’d like to get you into that pub. Or your boring little flat. More of this.”

“Could’ve just said so,” Jamie says, and maybe it’s not swooning, exactly--but the flush in her face is deeply satisfying all the same, particularly when she tips her head back to allow Dani access to her neck.

“I thought I’d be polite about my desire to get you into bed, thank you.”

“Polite,” Jamie repeats, her voice sharpening when Dani slips a hand into her hair and kisses just above the collar of her jumpsuit. “Right. Completely slipped my mind.”

“I am,” Dani insists, pushing her harder against the table, “very polite.”

She is alive, here in this greenhouse, choosing Jamie. She is alive, and she is free, and she is all but breathless when Jamie--patience giving at last like the final strand of a snapping rope--slips both hands into her coat and clenches her hips. Jamie, who is so alive with her hands at work, and so much more so now, kissing until Dani is sure they’re both going to give up the idea of a date altogether and just settle for that rumpled little couch.

“Okay,” Jamie says at last, tipping her head away. Her hands are under Dani’s sweater, tracing the warm skin of her back, and Dani finds she couldn't care less about the dirt. “Okay. You’ve made your point, Poppins.”

“I have?”

“Mm.” Jamie leans her head down against Dani’s shoulder, exhales almost shakily. “No scary-bug flinch. Very good. Best save the rest for the boring little pub, yeah?”

Dani doesn’t want her to go. Doesn’t want her to pull free, put those hands back to work with plant and seed and root. Jamie is grinning again, brighter than anything Dani has seen in days, and Dani wants to stay within sight of that smile for the rest of her life.

“You’ve got kids to wake. And I’ve got...um...things.”

“Things,” Dani repeats. Jamie nods.

“Important things. With...plants...the work.” She reaches vaguely for a trowel, gestures with it like she’s considering bringing it to war. “Look, it’s early, I was not prepared for any of this, Poppins.”

Dani laughs, extricating herself at last and recovering her mug. Leaving is the last thing she’d like just now, but Jamie isn’t wrong--the kids will be up soon, and the day will fall into its usual register. Except, this time, she’ll know Jamie is out here, thinking about boring pubs and boring dates and the least boring kiss of Dani’s life.

“Would,” she says, pausing at the door to glance back, “you call what you’re feeling now a swoon, by chance?”

Jamie blinks. “I--um.”

“Never mind.” The answer, Dani decides, is almost certainly yes.

***

Honestly, thinks Jamie, watching her stroll--stroll! as if Dani Clayton strolls anywhere!--out the door, she did every last bit of that on purpose.

“Swoon,” she mumbles, shaking her head. “Don’t fuckin’ swoon.”

It would, she thinks as she tries in vain to remember where she’d left off, explain the vague sense she might at any moment pass out--but Dani doesn’t need to know that.

If she gets any more brazen, after all, Jamie is going to be in serious fucking trouble.

#fanfiction #ficlet #the haunting of bly manor #the haunting of bly manor spoilers #dani x jamie #damie #there we go--we love an extended scene that just gently snips out the ghosts #from a...glorious ghost show it's fine we're all find here enjoy the lack of possessed-child interruption

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