#I’m not the greatest at tagging warnings but I think I cover the main ones rhat I can think of

[kwanisms]

🎄 Tales from Camp Holiday Special 04 🎄

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➮ bartender!Jeonghan × fem!Reader wc: 8.1k summary: Jeonghan is at work when someone sits down at his bar on December 24th and turns around to find none other than Y/N sitting before him. genres/themes/au: angst (just at the beginning, I promise), fluff, smut; holiday themes; non idol au, bartender au warnings: adult dialogue, female reader, alcohol consumption, mentions of mental health issues and traumatic past events, sexual content (18+ mdni), see smut warnings under the cut! taglist: @yoonguurt @wonw00t @aikisbbq @enhacolor @duchesskaren @sherituhhh @wonderfulshinee @gaebestie @drunk-on-dk @seokgyuu @salty-for-suga @aaniag @dnylwoo join my taglists: main | TFC: Holiday Special closes when part 7 goes up! Strikethrough means I cannot tag you. MINORS WILL BE BLACKLISTED & BLOCKED. AGELESS BLOGS WILL ALSO BE BLOCKED.

a/n: I think Jeonghan's part was the most gut wrenching for me to write so I'm really excited to write another chance for him and Y/N. A chance for them to start over essentially! Thank you so much for reading! If you like this part, please reblog as it helps spread my stories around! As always, this is a work of fiction and all characters are not reflective of their respective irl counterparts. for entertainment purposes only.

smut warnings: unprotected sex (use protection lol), oral (kinda lol f receiving), fingering (f receiving), dirty talk, dom!Jeonghan, sub!Reader, Jeonghan is pretty pathetic and kind of impatient and he has to hold off from nutting too early 💀 multiple orgasms (f receiving, m receiving), creampie (yum), cumplay, orgasm denial (f receiving), overstimulation (m receiving), sex tape & pictures, and I think that’s all but as usual, if I missed anything, let me know!

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The only thing Jeonghan hated more than his job was his job during the holidays.

Bartending wasn’t the greatest career choice but he did make a decent amount of money and it was only temporary as he finished getting his master’s. He just hated the rush and influx of customers that the holidays always brought. With more customers came more money but it also came with more complaints and more drunken idiocy.

“How was class?” one of his coworkers, Matt,  asked as Jeonghan stepped behind the bar, setting his bag down under the counter. “Exhausting,” Jeonghan replied. “I’m glad the term is over for the holidays.” Jeonghan moved around his coworker and to the terminal to clock in.

“They’re expecting it to be busier tonight,” Matt continued. “Busier than usual?” Jeonghan asked as he turned to look at him. Matt nodded. “The busiest night of the year,” he continued. Jeonghan snorted, shaking his head. “New Year’s Eve would disagree with you.”

Matt let out a chuckle. “According to Jerry, he thinks tonight will be worse than that.” Jeonghan shook his head, glancing over to the door where he saw a line of people waiting to be let in. “He always hopes it’s going to be busier every year,” Jeonghan replied. 

“It’s just wishful thinking.”

An hour later, Jeonghan was mentally cursing himself and wishing he could take his words back as they seemed to have cursed him in his willful denial.

Not only was the club packed but every order that came through the computer was complex with the patrons ordering some of the more complicated menu items. He was partially cursing himself for agreeing to work the night before Christmas Eve shift. He usually had it off to do Holiday stuff in favor of working on Christmas Eve but this year, he agreed to cover Analiese’s shift and she would cover his Christmas Eve one.

It took another couple hours for the flow to die down but Jeonghan was still busy manning the printer, making drinks for all the orders that came through. It was his preferred station, meaning he could just do his work without having to interact much with the customers. Occasionally, he’d have to make a few orders for the patrons at the bar but more often than not, one of the other bartenders would have that covered, allowing Jeonghan to work in peace.

“It’s calmed down a bit,” Matt said as he walked over to use the terminal next to where Jeonghan stood. “I’m going to the bathroom. I’ve had to piss for like two hours. Can you cover the bar for me?” he asked as he started to untie his apron. Jeonghan looked up and nodded. It had been a few minutes since an order came through the printer for him to make.

“Go ahead,” he replied. “I got it.” Matt thanked him and took off, ducking under the open side of the bar and disappearing into the crowd. Jeonghan turned, putting on a fake smile as he greeted the patron closest to him, asking them for their drink order.

Mixing was one of the few skills he’d managed to pick up in his initial round of college; going to house parties and learning which liquors tasted good together as well as the ratios. He honed his skills over a couple years and eventually got his first bartending job at a small hole in the wall. He didn’t get to experiment much with that job as most people ordered wells and beers.

His second bartending job was at an upscale restaurant, mixing drinks like cosmopolitans and manhattans. It allowed him to be a little more creative. It wasn’t until he got to his current job that his creativity really started to flow and he started mixing things together.

Jeonghan finished making a round of drinks for a group of friends gathered around the bar as Matt returned, patting him on the back before grabbing his apron. “Thanks, man,” Matt called over the music as he tied his apron back on and went back to work.

The next couple hours went by as Jeonghan had hoped. The night started getting later, turning into the wee hours of the morning. The club had started to die down, many of the patrons drunkenly stumbling out the front door to find their rides home. Jeonghan was wiping down the counter when he saw movement from the corner of eye.

He glanced up and he was sure his eyes widened comically. His lips parted as he felt his breath suddenly catch. He stood frozen on the spot looking at the person who had just taken a seat at his bar. Someone he hadn’t seen for a long time. Someone he’d just brought up on a camping trip with 12 of his friends. Jeonghan finally found his voice, speaking in a low tone that only two people could hear.

“Y/N?”

You looked back at him, failing to prevent the grin that spread across your face. You hadn’t changed much. You’d matured a bit. You looked much more confident and certain of yourself. You looked incredible. Jeonghan threw a glance at his coworker who was busy making drinks down the bar from him. Jeonghan approached where you sat slowly.

“What’re you doing here?” he asked as he stopped in front of you, holding the towel in both hands tightly. Your smile shifted from amused to sincere in the amount of time it took Jeonghan to blink. “I was in town and decided to drop by one of my favorite places,” you replied. “Although, I didn’t know you worked here,” you added, giving him a once over.

Jeonghan’s cheeks burned. Not from embarrassment exactly. He wasn’t sure why he felt heat spreading across his face and down his neck. What the hell was wrong with him? He was never like this? Was it perhaps because he felt ashamed?

Ashamed of how he left you? Ashamed of never speaking to or seeing you again? Ashamed of leaving you after everything that happened that summer? He couldn’t pick a single reason for feeling this way so he chose to accept all of them at once.

“How long have you worked here?” you asked, pulling his attention from the depths of his thoughts. “Three years,” he answered instantly. “When did you get back in town?” You chuckled softly at his quick response. “Last night,” you answered. Jeonghan noticed Matt starting to approach where he stood and cleared his throat quickly, turning his gaze back on you.

“What can I get you?” he asked, making you look up at him through your lashes. “A Manhattan, please,” you answered, lips threatening to pull into a smirk as you watched Jeonghan get to work, making your drink. He tried not to make too much of a show, making the drink without the flashy movements he normally did to impress patrons and increase his likelihood of getting more tips.

Once he’d finished the drink, he set it on a bar napkin in front of you and watched nervously as you pulled the drink closer. He watched as you picked the glass up and brought it closer to your face, no doubt giving it a sniff before taking a sip and setting it down. “Do you want to open a tab?” Jeonghan asked, quickly beating himself up for his lame question. You shook your head, opening your clutch and pulling out a few bills before handing them to him.

He started to turn away but caught himself when you told him no change, he thanked you, ringing up the drink and cashing it out, putting the change in the tip jar on the back counter by the terminal. He turned back around and started wiping down the counter again, gesturing to Matt to keep his distance.

“So,” he started as you took another sip of your drink. “How long are you in town for?” he asked. You smiled up at him. “A while,” you answered coyly. Jeonghan felt his lips pull into a smirk. “A while, huh?” he asked and you nodded, lifting your glass to take another sip. Jeonghan tried not to watch the way your lips moved or the way you licked them after taking a sip.

“And you’re out this late because…?” he continued, trailing off. “I told you,” you replied. “It’s one of my favorite places.”

The conversation between the two of you continued, briefly interrupted by Jeonghan helping Matt make drinks but the majority of the crowd had disbanded by this point as it was nearing 2 in the morning. The club would be closing soon and for once, Jeonghan found himself wishing for his shift to never end.

He let out what must have been a millionth sigh because you chuckled, looking up at him, chin resting in your hand and your elbow resting on the counter as you stared at him. He’d made a couple more drinks, enjoying your company far too much and watching the way you would pull the cherry garnish off the skewer with just your tongue. He had thought maybe you didn’t realize what you were doing but on the third time, he noticed the way you held his gaze as you did it and he knew you were doing it on purpose.

“Long day?” you asked, tilting your head like a puppy hearing its favorite word. Jeonghan scoffed, shaking his head. “You have no idea. I’m ready to get out of here,” he replied. It was only half true. While his feet did hurt and he was ready to go home, make some ramyeon and enjoy the rest of the night in the comfort of his apartment, he wasn’t quite ready to part ways with you.

“You’ve been at this for a while,” you commented, the smile on your face faltering as you studied his appearance. “The perks of working full time and pursuing a master’s degree,” Jeonghan replied sarcastically. “I live in a state of perpetual exhaustion.”

You reached across the bar, placing your hand over his. “I can tell,” you replied. Jeonghan gave you a tired smile. “Don’t worry,” he replied. “These bags are Gucci,” he added, gesturing to the bags under his eyes from many nights spent doing homework and case work instead of sleeping.

You snorted, pulling your hand away. “Only Gucci?” you asked. “No Chanel?”

It was Jeonghan’s turn to laugh as he shook his head. “Gucci is more affordable,” he replied.

“Oh shut up,” you said with a roll of your eyes. Your smile fell again. “But in all seriousness,” you said softly. “Are you okay?” Jeonghan felt his heart skip a beat, thumping in his chest erratically. “Uh, yeah,” he replied, turning his gaze away. “I’m fine.”

“You just keep sighing,” you explained. “I thought maybe something was bothering you and if so, maybe you’d like to talk about it?” Jeonghan looked back, meeting your curious gaze. “What time are you off?” you asked suddenly, making him almost choke on his own spit.

Before he had a chance to answer, someone else spoke.

“I’m sorry, miss,” Matt suddenly said from beside him, making Jeonghan jump. “Shit, Matt,” he hissed, placing his hand over his chest, feeling his heart pounding. “You nearly scared the life out of me.” Matt chuckled, patting him on the shoulder. “Sorry, man,” he replied before turning to look at you.

“The club’s closing soon.” You nodded with a smile. “Of course,” you replied, picking up your drink and downing the rest of it. Jeonghan turned to Matt, jerking his head as if to say ‘buzz off for a second.’ Matt seemed to understand and walked away to the other end of the bar, leaving Jeonghan to face you alone.

“About what you said before,” he said softly, making you look up as you collected your coat from the back of your barstool. “I really would like to see you while you’re still in town,” he continued, catching you off guard.

“Wow,” you said in faux amazement. “The Yoon Jeonghan wants to see me again?” you asked, making him groan in playful annoyance. “Don’t make a big deal out of it,” he replied, giving you a grin. “I’d like to catch up while I’m not working,” he added. “Okay,” you confirmed with a nod.

“Okay, well what time are you off?” There was that question again.

“You mean tonight?” he asked, looking at you incredulously. You nodded, seemingly unphased.

“Why not? Got plans tomorrow?”

Jeonghan shook his head. “The club’s closed on Christmas,” he explained. “So I’m free all day tomorrow.” You smiled at him warmly. “Then I’ll just wait outside for you?” you asked. Jeonghan’s eyes widened. “It’s probably freezing out there,” he protested. You shook your head.

“Well, I can’t stay in here,” you replied with a chuckle. “I’ll just meet you outside after you get off,” you added, grabbing your clutch only for Jeonghan to reach across the counter and gently take your wrist in his hand. “Wait,” he said quickly. “Let me see if my boss will let you wait in here instead of out in the cold.”

Luckily Jeonghan’s boss was an understanding person and allowed you to stay inside the club as Jeonghan and his co-workers shut down the business. You sat at the bar, watching Jeonghan count his drawer and finish putting in his tips.

“So, where did you have in mind?” he asked suddenly, making you look up from your phone where it sat on the counter, playing a rhythm game. “I thought we could just hit up a pojangmachas around here,” you replied. “Maybe grab some food.” Jeonghan smiled, picking up the money drawer and telling you he’d be right back. He was only gone a few minutes but upon returning, he untied his apron, making sure to take everything from it before stashing it and grabbing his bag from under the counter.

You waited for him to exit the bar, watching as he called a parting to Matt.

Once he joined you at your side, you studied his face at a much closer proximity. “And maybe some soju,” you added, making him look up at you with a confused look on his face. “Soju?” he asked curiously. “Why?” You reached up to run your thumb over the apple of his cheek. It was a simple gesture but one that made his heart skip nonetheless.

“Besides,” you replied, pulling your hand away. “You look like you could use a drink.”

The two of you exited the club, Jeonghan calling goodnight to the bouncers at the doors as he passed. Outside, the temperature had dropped tremendously, a wet sort of chill in the air, one that made his sinuses almost burn from the intensity of the cold. It didn’t take long for the two of you to find a mostly street lined with various food stalls. Most of the stalls had closed up shop as it was now almost 3 in the morning. The only stalls left open were the pojangmachas, covered stalls.

You led Jeonghan over to one of the larger ones, thanking him when he pulled back one of the tent flaps and followed you in.

Inside the tent was much warmer than outside with multiple industrial space heaters placed inside. There were a couple folding tables with folding chairs as well as a cart where a middle-aged woman sat on a bar height chair with a thick cushion. She was reading from some kind of magazine as you approached.

She glanced up at the two of you briefly. “Go ahead and sit down and someone will come by to take your order.” Although her tone was polite, she said it with an air of indifference that screamed ‘I couldn’t care less if you complain.’

You did as she instructed, moving to one of the tables by a space heater and setting your clutch on the table. Jeonghan set his bag on one of the chairs and shrugged off his coat, his eyes moving towards you at the same time. He’d only just noticed what you were wearing and had half a mind to cover you up with his coat.

You were wearing clothes typical of clubbing; high strappy black platform pumps, a fitted silver dress with ruching on the sides and a halter neckline. The back of the dress was open, showing off more skin than Jeonghan thought comfortable, especially in colder temperatures.

You hung your coat on the back of your chair, moving to take a seat. As soon as your butt hit the chair, Jeonghan stood over you, placing his long coat on your lap. “Just in case,” he murmured before taking a seat beside you in an attempt to shield you further from prying eyes.

“What a gentleman,” you replied jokingly. Jeonghan rolled his eyes despite his cheeks starting to heat up again. He didn’t even have time to quip back with some witty comeback before a man with a bored look on his face approached the table.

“What can I get you?”

You glanced at the small menu in Jeonghan’s hands. “Some eomukguk,” you said, glancing up at the man. “And kimbap. What about you?” you asked, looking up at him. Jeonghan let his eyes wander the menu before looking up. “Kimchi-bokkeumbap, please. And some soju,” he replied, looking up at the man who nodded and walked away.

You took the menu from him to look over it closer, allowing Jeonghan the freedom to do with his hands as he pleased. He opted for resting them on the surface of the table, lightly drumming his thumbs on the hard plastic to a beat in his head.

Silence washed over the two of you making Jeonghan want to curl up and hide. He’d never felt so awkward in all his life. “Huh.” he heard you chirp in something akin to mild amusement and curiosity. “Hmm?” he hummed in response, looking at the menu when you showed it to him.

“They have dakkochi with cheese,” you whined, showing him the menu. Jeonghan chuckled as the man returned with a bottle of soju and two glasses. He brought two large bottles of water, setting everything on the table. Jeonghan caught him before he walked away. “Could I add to our order?” he asked to which the man nodded wordlessly.

“Could we get some dakkochi with cheese please?”

The man nodded once more, without speaking, and walked away. Jeonghan turned to find your gaze on him already, your expression unreadable as you studied him. “What?” he asked as he picked up one of the bottles and moved it close to you before opening his. You shook your head, looking down at the bottle and opening it to take a sip.

Jeonghan grabbed the bottle of soju, turning the label to read it before nodding his head.

He offered to pour your shot first and after twisting the cap off, he filled it to the brim, making you grimace. You glanced at him as he poured his own shot, not filling it nearly as much. “You did that on purpose,” you muttered, making him look up an expression of feigned innocence on his face.

“Did what?” he asked. You gestured at your shot glass. “There’s no way I can pick that up without spilling it,” you murmured, noticing the mischievous glint in his eye. “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he replied, picking up his shot glass and waiting for you to follow.

With a sigh and a roll of your eyes, you very carefully picked up the shot glass. “Bottoms up,” he said before downing the shot with ease. You had a harder time, needing to move carefully so as not to spill any alcohol on you or his coat that was still on your lap.

You managed to swallow all of it, only spilling a tiny bit onto your hand which you quickly licked off and set your glass down. Jeonghan had noticed you licking the alcohol off your hand and his thoughts were suddenly consumed with images of your tongue running along the underside of his--

His thoughts were interrupted as the man returned, carrying the food you both ordered, setting it down on the table and asking if you needed anything else. Jeonghan shook his head, thanking the man who merely nodded and walked away. You smiled at the steaming bowl of eomukguk and immediately reached for a skewer.

Jeonghan started stirring his bokkeumbap, glancing over at your bowl before grabbing one of the small plates and spooning some of the rice onto it. He set it back down in front of you without a word and immediately dug into the dish. Your cheeks burned at the show of affection and thanked him softly.

The two of you ate mostly in silence, sipping on water and downing shots. The first bottle of soju went quickly and another one was brought to your table without you even needing to ask. You were happily munching on your chicken skewers when Jeonghan spoke.

“I never got the chance to apologize,” he started. You looked up at him. “It’s okay,” you replied after swallowing. “No, it’s not okay,” Jeonghan replied, looking back up at you. It was hard to miss the pain in his eyes. He must have held onto the hurt he felt he caused you all those years ago.

You reached across the table just like back in the club to place your hand over his.

“Really, Jeonghan,” you said, saying his name for the first time tonight. It sounded just as heavenly now as it did back then. “I’m okay. At first, yeah, I was upset,” you explained. “But I didn’t stew in it. I picked myself back up and I moved on. And sure, maybe I cried over it a few times but at the end of the day, we both knew that whatever was going on would end. We were young,” you continued.

Hearing the fact that you cried over him, over what he did, made his stomach sink. He moved his hand out from under yours and placed it on top. “I am so sorry,” he started but you shook your head. “It’s in the past,” you reminded him. “Stop living in the past. Focus on what’s happening now.”

Jeonghan met your gaze, your eyes flitted between his, looking back and forth as if searching for something specific in them. Something you hoped to see. Without speaking, Jeonghan raised his hand from the table, cupping your face and sliding his thumb over your cheek.

His heart nearly melted as you leaned into his touch. You were both startled out of your bubble by one of the men at the other table sneezing. It made you jump and Jeonghan pulled his hand back quickly, as if he’d been burned. He coughed a couple times before taking a drink of water.

And as you expected, he changed the subject.

“So, you didn’t tell me exactly how long you plan on staying in town,” he said quietly, glancing up at you.

You looked back at him, swallowing your food before speaking. “Just a while,” you replied. You gestured at the bottle of soju, silently asking if he wanted another shot. He shook his head. “What does that mean?” he asked. “What does a while mean?”

“I dunno,” you said with a shrug. “It means a while?” you added, glancing over at the only other occupied table, making sure they weren’t paying attention before grabbing the bottle of soju and pouring yourself a shot, shushing Jeonghan when he pretended to gasp. You quickly set the bottle down and reached over to slap his arm.

He raised his hand, pretended as if he’d been shot and made a face of extreme pain. You threatened to hit him again, cursing under your breath as he started to whine. You glanced over to see one of the older men at the other table look over his shoulder at you. You bowed your head in a silent apology before looking at Jeonghan who just smiled, laughing maniacally to himself.

“You’re such a menace,” you whispered. Jeonghan swallowed a gulp of water before fixing you with a perplexed stare. “I’m a menace?” he asked. “Look at you,” he added, gesturing at you. You glanced down and back up, shrugging and shaking your head as if to say ‘and?’

Jeonghan scooped up some more bokkeumbap, eyes moving back to meet yours as he opened his mouth slowly and took the bite. You looked away as he made a completely innocent thing mildly suggestive. “See?” you hissed. “Menace!”

Jeonghan covered his mouth as he chuckled before swallowing. “I just like to see you squirm,” he replied softly. “But really,” he continued. “You’re calling me a menace when you’re looking like that?” he asked, glancing up again. You met his gaze, heart skipping. ‘Was he… slut shaming you?’

“Don’t get me wrong,” he started, as if reading your mind. “You look incredible,” he added. “But god does seeing you like that make me want to do things to you.”

You weren’t sure if you were meant to hear the last part and upon glancing at him and finding him staring at you with a smirk on his face, you knew he meant for you to hear him. How did he expect you to respond to such a sexual remark? And more importantly, how did you want to respond?

The heat pooling in your belly spurred your decision to egg him on. See where he would take this.

“Oh yeah?” you asked softly, looking up through your lashes at him. “Like what?”

The smirk on Jeonghan’s face only faltered for a moment before growing. “Shall I tell you?” he asked, leaning forward as he propped his elbow on the table, resting his chin in his hand. He had a sort of dazed smile on his face as he stared at you with those dark eyes.

“Or should I just show you?”

╾───────────────────⭒✧⭒──────────────────╼

How you managed to keep your hands to yourself in the taxi ride back to Jeonghan’s apartment was beyond you. As soon as the elevator doors shut, he was on you in a split second, pinning you against the metal wall of the elevator, hands on your hips as his lips moved fervently against yours.

The doors dinged, announcing the arrival to his floor and Jeonghan all but dragged you out of the lift, steering you down the hall to the door to his apartment. He fumbled with the key, unlocking it after a couple tries, only for you to pull him in, shutting the door behind you.

You stood in front of the door, lips locked, tongues battling for dominance as his hands roamed your body and yours grabbed the lapel of his black wool coat. “Wait,” he murmured, pulling back to look at you, pupils dilated even in the dark room.

“I can’t let this go on without your consent,” he murmured, lips ghosting along your jaw and down the side of your neck. “I’m here, aren’t I?” you asked softly. Jeonghan shook his head, straightening up to stare you down yet again. “No,” he replied.

“I mean, yes. Yes you are here. But I need to hear you say it.”

You rolled your eyes before pulling him closer, lips brushing against his and making him pout when you didn’t kiss him. “I want this,” you muttered, brushing your lips against his again, making him chase your mouth, desperate enough for your kiss that he whined.

“I want you, Yoon Jeonghan.”

Your words had a profound effect on him and he groaned, backing you into the wall beside the front door.

“I’m sorry,” you heard him murmur, his body pressing you against the wall. “I’m so, so sorry.” You shook your head, tugging on his hair to make him pull back and look at you. “Don’t,” you said softly. “Don’t apologize. It doesn’t matter anymore,” you continued, looking up at him with glossy eyes. “You’re here now.” Jeonghan groaned, leaning back in, his lips crashing against yours.

You let out a groan as his hands moved down your body, fumbling to undo your coat. “I’m here,” he repeated, words muffled by your lips. “And I’m not going anywhere.” You shook your head as he failed to unbutton your coat. “Neither am I,” you replied.

Your hands replaced his, undoing the buttons one by one before you shrugged the coat off, letting it fall to the floor, leaving you in just the silver backless dress. Jeonghan grabbed your hips, spinning you away and pushing you against the wall, his hips pressing into your backside.

He slowly started to pull at the tie at the back of your neck, savoring the reactions your body gave him. He paused, lowering his head to press his lips against your shoulder, lips parting as he let his tongue glide over your skin before sinking his teeth into you.

You let out an almost pornographic moan as he bit you, spurring on the rolling of his hips against your ass as he rutted against you. His fingers made quickly work of your halter, untying it before his hands slid down your back to grab your hips, the material of your dress bunching under his hands.

He spun you back around to face him before his hands moved up to where you held the dress up to cover your chest. “Don’t hide from me,” he murmured, leaning in to kiss you, his hands moving to yours and pulling them away. The top of your dress tumbled down, stopping at your waist.

His hands moved up, cupping your now exposed breast, sighing as you arched your back into his touch, your hands tangling in his dark locks. Jeonghan’s hands moved back down, pushing your dress further down as he littered kisses all over your neck and collar.

You allowed the item to fall to the floor, stepping out of it as Jeonghan pulled you from the wall. Your hands slid down his chest, working to undo his slacks and push them down, stumbling over a forgotten shoe and giggling as Jeonghan grabbed your waist to steady you.

“Careful,” he hissed as you stood up straight. “I really don’t want to spend Christmas in the ER.” You leaned into him, pulling him into a kiss. “I’ll be careful,” you promised as you leaned against the back of the couch. You grabbed his shirt, pulling it up over his head and dropping it to the floor to admire his lean body. “You’ve been working out,” you noted as his hands tugged at your shirt, pulling it up over your head as well.

“Well, it’s been a while since we’ve seen each other,” he reminded you. “I’ve been going to the gym for a while.” You giggled as he pulled you up into him, kissing you as his hands settled on your hips. “I don’t think we’re going to make it to the bedroom,” he murmured in between kisses. You shook your head.

“No,” you replied. “We’re not.”

You giggled as Jeonghan leaned forward, making you both tumble over the arm of the couch, him landing on top of you. “You didn’t think this through, did you?” you asked as you tried to scoot under him. He shook his head before pressing his lips against yours.

“When did I ever think anything through?” he asked with a smirk before sliding off you and the couch, moving to kneel in front of it. “Sit up,” he instructed. You scrambled to sit up, giggling as he grabbed your hips, pulling you to the edge of the couch. “Don’t tease,” you whined as he kissed up your stomach slowly.

“I’m not,” he pouted before his hands moved back up to your chest, settling under your breast as he searched your face for any sign of apprehension. When he saw none, he continued. A loud clunk made your head whip around in the direction it came from.

“Eyes on me, angel,” you heard Jeonghan say softly, taking your chin in his hand and turning your head to meet his burning gaze.

“Good girl,” he murmured. You opened your mouth to retort but let out a soft sigh as you felt his tongue lave over your nipple. His hands still on your hips as he nipped at and teased the bud. Your back arched, pressing your chest further against his face making him chuckle against your skin.

You felt one of his hands run up your back as the other stayed on your hip. “Not so mouthy now, are you?” you heard him murmur and looked down to meet his gaze once again. “No but you sure are,” you retorted, making him laugh as he pushed you back. His hands slid down your hips to your thighs, pulling your panties with them.

You lifted your feet as he pulled them off entirely and tossed them aside, hands moving under your hips to pull you closer to his face. “It’s been a while,” he admitted, glancing up at you as you reached down to comb your fingers through his dark tresses. “You never did this before,” you replied. “Not for me, anyway.” Jeonghan cocked his head. “You sure about that?” he asked and you nodded.

“I went down on you,” you reminded him. Jeonghan shrugged, grip tightening as he leaned in. Without another word, you felt his tongue lick slowly and glanced down at him, finding him already looking at you with hooded eyes. “Holy shit,” you gasped, the sight of him alone making your walls clench around nothing.

Jeonghan chuckled more to himself as he broke eye contact to look down at your heat. “Doesn’t take much, does it?” he asked, referencing your already leaking slit. “I barely touch you and your body is ready for something to fill it,” he added, one of his hands moving, fingers tracing around your entrance.

He looked back up, meeting your gaze as he slowly sank his fingers inside you, burying them to the hilt as his lips parted. “So tight,” he muttered, looking back down as he pulled his fingers slowly until just the tips remained. He gingerly pushed them back in, watching as your walls sucked them in.

“So warm,” he added. You groaned as you felt them curl inside you, brushing against the soft spongy spot that had your toes curling. “So wet for me,” he added with a hint of amusement to his voice. Even years later, he was still teasing you the way only he could.

His pace was slow, too slow to build any tension but just enough to give you some friction. He could do this for hours and you knew he could. Even if your previous encounter had been nothing but rushed and the very definition of a quickie.

It was amazing he still managed to tease you like this, working you up so well years later.

Like no time had passed and he was a skilled and practiced lover.

“Shit,” you gasped as Jeonghan’s fingers plunged deeper into your heat. “Don’t stop,” you gasped, your hand in his hair gripping tighter. You wanted to move his face closer, wanting to feel his tongue on you but he held back, reaching up instead to grab your hand and remove it.

“I’d love nothing more than to taste you,” he started. “But ever since you sat at my bar, I’ve wanted to fill this sweet pussy with my cock more.” You groaned as he pulled his fingers from your cunt, leaving you clenching around nothing with a whine.

“You want to be on top or you want me on top?” he asked as he wiped his fingers on the blanket that had fallen to the floor with a mental note to throw that in the washer tomorrow morning.

“Surprise me,” you said with a smirk.

The moment the words left your lips, you regretted them. Jeonghan had you pinned down against the cushions as he guided the head of his cock to your entrance. “Shit,” he cursed, hesitating. “I don’t have a condom on me,” he murmured. “They’re in the bedroom. I could go get one--”

You took his chin in your hand. “Are you clean?” you asked, looking into his eyes. He nodded fervently before asking you the same. You nodded, letting go of his face. “And I’m on the pill. Just do it. Before we lose the moment,” you replied.

Jeonghan said nothing, instead pushing into you, a deep groan leaving his lips as he slid in easily. You let out a whimper, head falling back against the cushion as his cock slowly stretched and filled your walls. The stretch was more than you remembered but it wasn’t painful.

When Jeonghan stopped moving, you heard him whisper a string of curses.

“When I said you were tight, I didn’t realize you were this tight,” he hissed. You hiked your leg higher, allowing him to sink deeper, making him shut up with a moan as his head fell into the crook of your neck. “Shit, okay,” he breathed, his breath hot against your skin, a thin layer of sweat starting to form.

“Can you move already?” you whined, trying to shift your hips but he put his weight down on you. “I’m trying not to cum, stop moving!” he hissed. You whined, body going still under him as you waited for him to regain his composure.

Watching the way his brow furrowed as he held off his own orgasm was kind of cute in a way. You took in the way his hair fell around his face, the ends with a slight curl. The long hair was growing on you.

“Alright,” he finally said, raising his head, sweat beading on his forehead. “I think I’m good.”

You opened your lips to respond but your words faltered as he pulled back and thrust sharply into you, making you gasp as your walls gripped him tightly. “If you keep doing that, I’m not gonna last,” Jeonghan groaned, hips stalling. “We’ve barely even started,” you whined, moving a hand up to brush his hair back.

“I underestimated you,” you heard him whisper as he buried his face in the crook of your neck. “Feels too good,” he added, his breath hot against your skin. “Jeonghan,” you whined impatiently. He groaned as he raised his head. “Fine, fine,” he murmured, pulling out to thrust back slowly, setting a steady pace.

“Fucking hell, Y/N,” he growled. You felt his fingers dig into your thigh, hiking your let up around his waist as he leaned deeper into his thrusts, the sound of skin against skin starting to fill the room. A thin layer of sweat started to cover your body, feeling equal parts sticky and wet.

Jeonghan pulled back to look down at you, his free hand moving to your face. “Don’t hold back,” he muttered, freeing your bottom lip from between your teeth as you had been holding back your moans. “There’s no one around to catch us this time,” he added with a smirk.

You let go, letting out a loud moan as you felt the head of his cock bump the soft spot inside your cunt. “Oh god,” you gasped, one hand moving to grab his arm, squeezing his bicep. Jeonghan took note of your facial expression and the fluttering of your walls and angled his thrusts, aiming for the same spot again and smirking wider as you gasped out again

“Right there, yeah?” he asked, his voice breathless. “Y-yeah,” you mewled, back arching as he hit the same spot repeatedly. “M’gonna cum if you keep doing that,” you whimpered, thighs squeezing his waist. Jeonghan surprised you by stopping completely, your orgasm ebbing away like the tide.

“What the fuck, Jeonghan?” you hissed as he pulled out of you completely. You tried to prop yourself up but squealed as he grabbed your arm, pulling you up and pushing you onto your stomach over the arm of the couch. You had no time to ask what he was up to when you felt him reenter you from behind, setting into a heavy and relentless pace immediately.

Your breath was knocked out of you with each powerful thrust, mewls and moans tumbling from your lips. “Oh, fuck, d-don’t stop,” you moaned, lips parted. Jeonghan growled, wrapping an arm around your chest and pulling your back against his chest.

“I should have had you like this before,” he whispered in your ear. “In my cabin. Not in some half rundown boathouse.” You let out a squeal as you felt Jeonghan’s cock plunge deeper into your cunt. “I shouldn’t have just left--”

“Stop,” you gasped. Jeonghan’s hips slowed. “No, don’t stop that,” you replied quickly. “I meant, stop talking about that.” You let out a moan as he resumed his merciless pace. “Right. We can talk later,” he groaned. “For now…” he trailed off, free hand slipping down between your thighs, fingers finding your clit with ease.

“I want you to cum,” he whispered in your ear. “Cum for me and then I’ll fill you up.”

Your walls clenched around him, your orgasm approaching as he drew you closer and closer with each thrust. “That’s it, come on,” he muttered. “Let go, angel.”

You let out a whine, feeling his hips stutter as you came, walls gripping him tightly. “Fuck, that’s right. Keep going,” he murmured, continuing to fuck you through your climax. “Good girl,” he said softly. You felt his grip relax, sighing in relief as he carefully set you back against the armrest, taking one of your arms and pinning it behind your back.

“Hold on tight,” he continued, his free hand gripping your hip, fingers digging into your flesh.

You didn’t get a word out before he started pounding into you, cries falling from your lips with each drag of his cock against your walls. “Fuck,” he hissed. You felt his cock twitch inside you, his own release drawing closer. “M’not gonna last,” he moaned, his grip on your arm tightening as he held you in place.

“Don’t stop,” you gasped, using your free hand to push yourself back against his thrusts. “Come on,” you continued. “Fucking cum.” Jeonghan let out a growl. “You want me to cum?” he asked. “Want me to cum inside you, claim this pussy as mine?” You nodded fervently. “Yes,” you replied. “Give it to me, please. Want it so bad!”

Your words seemed to do the trick, pushing Jeonghan over the edge as he came with a groan, hips coming to a halt as he buried his cock inside you, releasing deep into your cunt. “Shit!” he hissed. You pushed back, fucking yourself on his cock as he continued to pump you full of his cum.

“Shit, Y/N, stop,” he stammered, body twitching. “Fuck, babe, stop,” he repeated, letting go of your arm and holding your hips still. “Sorry,” you whimpered. “Felt too good.”

Jeonghan let out a breathless chuckle before leaning over your back, pressing a remarkably gentle kiss against your shoulder before pulling back and watching as he pulled his cock free. He leaned back to get a better look, almost smirking deviously as some of his cum started to spill out of you.

“Can I take a picture?” he asked suddenly, making your head snap up. “What?” you asked, looking back over your shoulder at him. “It’s just for me,” he added. “I want to remember this,” he continued, nodding down at your cunt. You contemplated it for a moment before nodding. “Yeah, go ahead.”

You felt him scramble off the couch, walking over to where his pants lay on the floor and pulled the device from his pocket, moving back behind you to presumably take a couple pictures.

You felt his hand on your ass, his thumb spreading your lips before his fingers moved, pushing into your cunt, making you groan. “What’re you doing?” you asked. “Pushing it back in,” he replied. “Some of it spilled out.”

You glanced back, seeing his phone still in his hand. “Are you filming this?” you asked softly and he nodded, tapping on the screen before setting his phone on the coffee table. “Sorry,” he added. “I couldn’t resist.” You caught an eyeful of his cock, standing proudly again.

“You wanna fuck it back into me?” you asked, making him look up to meet your gaze.

“Can I?” he asked, to which you nodded.

“Sure,” you replied. “It’s not like I’m going anywhere any time soon.”

You weren’t sure how you managed to go another two rounds with Jeonghan, each time ending with him filling you with even more of his cum but finally, he tapped out after moving to the bedroom to continue. You chose to hop in the shower, knowing his cum would slip out while you slept.

After cleaning up, you joined him back in bed and passed out.

The next morning, Jeonghan awoke to sunlight pouring into his room through the blinds and blinked himself awake. He rolled over, hand reaching for you but found the space you’d previously occupied empty. His heart skipped a beat, pounding in his chest as he sat up quickly, looking around.

‘Oh no,’ he thought as he scrambled out of bed, throwing off the covers. He was grabbing a clean pair of sweats when the smell of eggs met his nose. He pulled on his pants and walked over to the door that stood slightly ajar, pulling it open and stepping into the hall.

He padded down the hallway and into the living area where he found you, wearing one of his old oversized shirts as you stood at the counter. “Morning,” you said with a smile as you cooked. Jeonghan’s lips pulled into a crooked smile as he moved to sit at the kitchen island, watching you work.

“Why are you smiling at me like that?” you asked as you stirred the contents of the skillet. Jeonghan shook his head, resting his chin in his hand as he watched you. “Nothing,” he murmured. “I could just get used to this.”

“Used to this? What, me cooking?” you asked with a snort. Jeonghan nodded. “And seeing you in my clothes,” he added with a chuckle. You rolled your eyes as you started to plate the food. Jeonghan heard the sound of a key in the lock and internally panicked. You looked up at him with wide eyes.

“I thought you lived alone,” you said as he turned towards the door and watched in horror as the door opened and Seungcheol entered, dropping his bag by the door as he looked up at Jeonghan, excitement on his face. “You’re never going to guess what happened to me last night,” he said as he walked forward.

“We got drinks and then- oh!” Seungcheol started, pausing when he caught sight of you in the kitchen in Jeonghan’s shirt. “Hello!” he added, glancing between you and Jeonghan. “Who is this?” he asked, looking at Jeonghan whose cheeks started to grow warm. He’d been caught, metaphorically, with his pants down and now he was going to have to come clean to his best friend and roommate.

“This,” Jeonghan started, glancing at you and then back at his best friend. “Is Y/N.”

Seungcheol smiled, looking at you before the realization dawned on him and his eyes widened comically. “Oh! Y/N?” he asked, turning to Jeonghan. “Like… the Y/N?” Jeonghan glanced quickly at you, noticing your furrowed brows. “The Y/N?” you asked softly.

Jeonghan forced an awkward smile, turning to you. “How would you like to eat breakfast in bed?” he asked with a pointed look. You glanced between him and Seungcheol. “O-okay,” you said, looking every bit as confused as you sounded. Jeonghan motioned for you to pick up the plates, saying he would follow shortly.

He turned to Seungcheol as you headed for his room.

“Don’t touch the blanket or the couch,” he said quickly. “I have some cleaning to do,” he added, starting for his room before stopping to look back at Seungcheol who made a face of disgust as he looked at the couch. “We’ll talk later,” Jeonghan added, pointing at Seungcheol who nodded.

Back in his room, Jeonghan shut the door and moved to sit beside you on the bed.

“Sorry about that,” he murmured as he took a plate from you and started to dig in, complimenting your cooking skills. You thanked him as you finished your bite and swallowed. “So,” you started, gathering more eggs on your fork. Jeonghan looked up to meet your gaze, a smug smirk on your face.

“The Y/N?” you asked, a hint of amusement in your voice. 

“Just how many people have you told about me?”

ⓘ Graphics made by me. Content and support banners made using a template by cafekitsune. I do not allow reposts, translations, or continuations of my works. All writing and graphics are ©️ kwanisms.

#svthub #ksmutsociety #seventeen scenarios #seventeen imagines #seventeen fanfiction #seventeen fanfic #seventeen smut #seventeen x reader #jeonghan scenarios #jeonghan imagines #jeonghan fanfiction #jeonghan fanfic #jeonghan smut #jeonghan x reader #tales from camp holiday special

[fedzkun]

Villain Hunt Arc Meta: All For One’s Horrific Guide to Methodically Breaking Down Your Local OFA Holder

Ft. Turning the ‘Overpoweredness’ of OFA into a Setback, and AFO’s Successful Manipulations Of Midoriya Izuku

In which I also give AFO too much credit for all the pain he’s probably caused, and theorize that his plans to break Izuku actually started getting enacted even before he’d escaped Tartarus.

(A.k.a. me loving the angst because this is really good angst writing, but also hating it because the manga doesn’t come with a Angst with A Happy Ending tag unless you count Izuku’s ‘this is the story of how I became the greatest hero’ which isn’t really a guarantee of happiness )

So. What an arc! In the span of ten chapters (starting from the end of the War arc) Hori delivered a full-on Villain-looking, Vigilante Midoriya Izuku. Congratulations, Horikoshi, for finally introducing Akatani Mikumo!

The fast pacing and lack of breather panels are so fitting for this arc truly. AFO never gave them a moment’s rest. Yes, from henceforth as he’d promised... It’s always going to be his turn.

Izuku is making amazing progress with unlocking the full power of One For All. In his words, his abilities might as well already be on par with what a healthier All Might could do, and with no recoil to boot. Plus, there’s only one last quirk to unlock. For villain fights, I don’t think we need to worry about him losing, or him breaking anymore bones at this time.

Which, some might argue, makes Izuku too ‘OP.’

To start with, I want to talk first about the ‘overpoweredness’ of the One For All quirk. It’s a wonderful quirk truly, having inspired and amazed so many because of its sheer power. Used well, it could grant instant victories and restore the people’s wavering faith to the heroes. Because with a quirk like that on your side, everything’s going to be alright, right? There’s always gonna be that bit of hope that something is still strong enough to stand against the looming evil...right?

Yeah. That’s what the people who’d lived under All Might’s Era of Peace thought so too. History repeats.

OFA’s ‘OP-ness’ is both a great blessing and a great burden.

Here are some points on how the narrative has made OFA's 'overpoweredness' a setback:

1. All For One—that bastard—exploits the urge that comes with OFA. Just as ‘AFO the quirk’s’ goal is to steal OFA, OFA’s job is to defeat AFO, and Izuku is sacrificing himself to its cause.

Here’s another thing I want to point out: The conclusion that the heroes drew about AFO planning to capture Midoriya Izuku alive? In rereading, I’m starting to believe it’s nothing but a mere assumption of his plans. Aside from the deal made with Lady Nagant—of which I think AFO didn’t take seriously anyway and set her up for failure— (and while we as readers are already aware of his true intentions to wear Izuku down) it’s weird that nowhere had AFO directly mentioned to Izuku that he’s going to kidnap him and take his quirk from him.

2. OFA made Izuku so brilliant (e.g. Pros and former Pros alike going “This kid...”) that they really can't help but place all their hopes on him. Sighs. In an ideal world, this would be a dream come true of Izuku getting his due credit for all his heroic achievements Pro heroes have started to do to Izuku what they’ve done all their lives to All Might--which is to put him on the pedestal, while they fall back to cover him like guards/safety net. Hence, falling back to the One Pillar Model mindset.

3. OFA makes Izuku untouchable, not only to the villains, but also to his allies. Prime material to reinforce isolation. And if Izuku doesn't want to be caught, he won't make it easy for either side.

4. OFA IS SUS AF, OKAY? What are the Holders doing?! While gaining access to them makes it easier and convenient to have personal trainers in handling OFA, the vestiges prove to add a lot to Izuku’s mental load. If they’d allowed Izuku to come to the point of being caked with blood and filth, they’re not doing very well at guiding him. Realize that most of their arc interactions with Izuku is Quirk Talk. They, of all people, should know how AFO’s machinations work! Hey First, for the love of god, warn Izuku! He’s showing so many signs of being manipulated that you should be picking up on. please /sobs ;;

Tbf, like, I’m pretty sure that the Holders haven’t been as mentally okay either, which would feed into Izuku’s current mindset.

Now that the setbacks have been listed, let’s dive in to AFO’s plans to toy with Midoriya Izuku.

PHASE 1: Pre-Tartarus Breakout

Speaking of OFA being sus, there’s something that has been niggling at the back of my mind.

All For One basically tells Izuku: “You were my main interest that entire time I was in prison”. So, to pass the time in Tartarus (since he can’t use any(?) of his quirks), AFO has been doing nothing but apparently daydreaming and designing a personal hell for the Ninth Holder during that entire period. HOWEVER, it also made me wonder…

…Even before he’d broken out, had AFO made any moves at all in enacting his plans to break Izuku?

Yeah?

And here’s the kicker: he says that before Blackwhip bursted out.

AFO is a master manipulator. Assuming that Izuku doesn’t have any latent AFO quirk (for whatever reason *coughs* maybe dfo if you're a believer) or that Quirk Singularity has anything to do with it, what is the trigger to Izuku suddenly having access to Blackwhip?

I’d argue that it is All For One himself.

Why? What’s his goal? If you notice during the Joint Training arc, Izuku is feeling pretty confident about his progress. He’s rather happy and feeling blessed, and he is making leaps and bounds with base power OFA.

AFO can’t have that. He can’t allow the Ninth Holder to become too emotionally stable, or else he’d have a stronger will. So by somehow activating Blackwhip, AFO makes Izuku feel like he hasn’t made any progress with his quirk at all. During the evaluations, Izuku mentions that he still needs a lot to work on, and while not all of it is visible, with the way he behaves, it’s pretty evident that his self-confidence has taken a rather large hit.

But, wait! If AFO had tampered with OFA during the JT arc, paving the way to unlocking the rest (like he’d also done during the War arc when he tried to ‘steal’ it then), then wouldn’t AFO be sabotaging himself since he’d be making Izuku a more formidable opponent?

Sure. Except that the quirks inside OFA are mostly useless when it comes to the mental part of the fighting. The only thing they’re useful for is for the current Holder to be able to play keep-away in the physical realm. And AFO could easily just find counters for those through his work on Tomura.

You know how else the situation becomes advantageous for AFO? With every quirk unlocked, Izuku’s goalposts keep on getting away from him, and Izuku will always feel like he isn’t ready or prepared enough. Izuku will push and push himself to master OFA to its fullest, to become more powerful, at the cost of his mental/emotional stability and physical wellbeing as he wears himself down.

And every time Izuku grew more powerful, and became more ‘OP,’ he is burdened with all the aforementioned setbacks that came with it. He could be the most powerful person in the world, but it’s all for naught if he doesn’t take care of himself. This plan is both a high risk and high reward on AFO’s part, and as of the moment, with a bloody Izuku staggering all over, AFO is visibly reaping these high rewards.

PHASE 2: Post-Tartarus Breakout

He’s going to toy with Izuku until Izuku fucking breaks. What follows is his series of actions that instills the desired responses from Midoriya Izuku. Let’s see how the master manipulator plays this game of chess, shall we?

Izuku’s plan: Reach out to villains and try to save them.

AFO’s counter: Kill off those who turn their back against villainy and/or acknowledge Izuku as a true hero.

Izuku’s resulting response: Stop reaching out to villains. Gain an instant victory and move on.

After all, what do you get when you block a hero from showing sympathy? You get an unfeeling living weapon.

---

Izuku’s plan: Work with the top pro heroes to bring down AFO.

AFO’s counter: Make plans that will serve to highlight how the top pros are just slowing Izuku down. (e.g. Making moves while it’s raining, so as to divide them, but also to bring out No. 1 Hero Endeavor’s "slowness" in the rain. Nope, I don’t think that’s a throwaway line at all.)

Izuku’s resulting response: Grows more reckless, often leading the charge.

---

Izuku’s plan: Track AFO down.

AFO’s counter: Lead them to dead-ends. Or when they do supposedly reach something, endanger them.

Izuku’s resulting response: His tunnel vision worsens, as he grows more desperate.

---

Izuku’s plan: All Might following him around is okay since it would help All Might from worrying so much, and Izuku could simultaneously keep an eye on and protect All Might.

AFO’s counters: There are a lot to really fuck with this bond, damn you AFO.

Taint that passing the torch memory of ‘You’re Next.’

Declare that All Might no longer interests him. Liar. He outright stated before that he’s one for keeping a grudge

Send another assassin to Izuku [Underlying Message: You yourself are a walking danger zone to those whom you dearly care for.]

Izuku’s resulting response:

Interpret that memory of ‘You’re Next’ as taking up the position of being AFO’s shiny new plaything, and therefore supposedly sparing All Might from the torment (Unfortunately, making Izuku push AM away is just part of the torment ;A;)

Think that AM is no longer in the direct line of fire as long as AFO focuses on Izuku

Finally, push his last line of morale support away, and completely isolate himself.

Btw, I wonder how All Might feels about Izuku using Nana's quirk to get away from him.

---

The suffering doesn’t end.

Izuku’s plan: Save people.

AFO’s counters: (possibly offscreen) Send more villains and assassins to torment Izuku some more with the knowledge that he can’t save them. Sending villains out also puts innocents in danger.

Izuku’s resulting response: He won’t stop for anything. He won’t sleep, won’t eat, won’t slow down. He will always do his best to save as long as someone is in danger.

His body will keep on moving and moving and MOVING on its own.

--- All For One is very effective as a supervillain. He has managed to make the heroes think that his only goal is to capture Izuku alive for his quirk. He has Izuku right where he wants him: dancing to his tune at the palm of his hand, utterly toyed with, left with no escape in sight.

Psychologically vaulted.

.

.

.

PHASE 3

And so, if Izuku is being manipulated to drive himself further and further into self-destruction, what then is there left for All For One to do?

So much more. Because, my god, I think AFO has mastered the art of traumatizing the OFA Holders.

All For One once told All Might, “I will destroy all that you’ve protected.” And boy, is he delivering. He's definitely not done with AM btw.

First, he destroys All Might's image. And he is manipulating Izuku to drive himself to that point. To looking into his absolute worst.

And when that point arrives, AFO will hammer the final nail home.

Something like...

BEHOLD

JAPAN’S SYMBOL OF PEACE.

And oh, how it'll hurt. To see All Might's pride and joy be flaunted about as looking nothing like a hero to the masses, for him to be so utterly humiliated.

"See what I did to All Might's successor."

AFO will be banking upon the possibility that the angry masses will not want to be saved by whom they're tricked into viewing as someone that's the cause of all the pain. Izuku might have the willpower to stay true to his resolve, but with him on the verge of total breakdown, what would happen when he is shunned by the very people he is trying to help?

I once wrote a post about how the current events seem to be a bastardization of Izuku's wildest fantasies: he's working with the top pros, he has the most powerful quirk, and he's working with All Might (whom technically acts as a sidekick to him rn).

AFO has warped all that into a never-ending nightmare. And Izuku...

Izuku is really in need of saving.

Last thoughts:

Let me just say that it shouldn't be a competition about who gets to get through to Izuku. Right now, he’s gonna need all the help he can get, and it can’t be delivered by only one or two people. Saving Izuku is going to be a team effort, a solid support system that sees Izuku as their classmate/friend/student/actual person that they care about. And there’s sufficient space for that.

More hands reaching out means more chances to catch him if he falls.

#bnha #bnha 317 #bnha manga #bnha analysis #bnha meta #all for one #afo #midoriya izuku #all might #toshinori yagi

[flowerwrites06]

under the moonlight — jjk

Plot: Jungkooks’ omega is in heat. 

Pairing(s): Alpha!Jungkook x Omega!OC (Name: Belle) 

Rating: G | PG | M | R 18+

Type: Drabble | Oneshot | Two Parter | Series

Word Count: 5k+

Genre: Supernatural | ABO Dynamics | Smut/Angst 

Tags & Warnings: abo dynamics, explicit smut, mild violence

Authors Note: repost for those who wanted this! 

Elation floated around her mind when she was taken in as a mate by the alpha himself. Only the strongest were chosen so it was no surprise that a sense of pride burst through her body at the decision. Though the result of it all had been a lot more anti-climactic than expected when Jungkook seemed to have no interest in being near her.

Belle would stay close to him in front of the pack, sleep next to him on his bed but he always turn the other way or just sleep on a chair and not a single intimate touch shared between them. The excitement that once reached the roof of her mood now dropped down to a pile of fear and insecurity.

Nothing happened between the two of them but the omega could not help but think that Jungkook grew tired of her as soon as he took her in. Something the betas were quick to assume in front of her while the alpha was not around.

All hope lost for a while until the heat began. That same excitement bubbled inside her again knowing now more than ever, Jungkook would try to get close.

Belle even went as far as to dress herself up in a short, silk babydoll dress with nothing else underneath making her completely ready and open for her beloved alpha. And she waited in the room. The same room that had no memories but of distance and silence. Her legs rubbed together absentmindedly growing impatient until the door finally opened, heart jumping almost out of her ribcages. A smile stretched across her lips when she saw Jungkooks’ eyes trail up and down her body. “Do you like it?”

Jungkook continued to stare as he closed the door behind him. “It’s cold…wear something warm.” He mumbled under his breath quickly turning on his heel towards the bathroom leaving the omega in her pooling lust and pain.

Frustration burst inside as disturbing thoughts passed through her mind, chest rising and falling rapidly glaring at the direction Jungkook walked away.

In a jolt of impulse Belle grabbed a large coat, draping it over her body before rushing out of the room and being rid of her constant disappointment in her uninterested alpha.

Unfortunately a little omega in heat all alone in the forest may have not been the greatest idea.

-

His body burned like a furnace as soon as he saw her in that thin little nightie, a little see through with her plump thighs peeking out resembling a cake he wanted to bite into. Those gorgeous tender breasts and that fucking smile. So much innocence yet her body spoke all kinds of sin. Jungkook had to grip onto the edge of the bathroom counter to calm himself down, his eyes already darkened with lust as her scent echoed throughout the room hurdling him down to a pit of insanity.

The alpha struggled to keep his control around the beautiful omega and from his observation, the rest of the pack had the same idea. A lot of betas would eye her with dark eyes sometimes whispering all the things they would do to her once she was in heat. Jungkook had to shut them down somehow without showing just how much he hated the thought of anyone else touching the ethereal and delicate creature.

It was simple for him to choose Belle, not much as a second thought passed through his mind when he did. The beauty tried her best to be perfect for him even though really there was no need for a lot of effort since the slightest flip of her hair had him growling in hunger. Every part of his body tingled at the thought of her but he harbored a slight concern of tainting all that innocence.

Jungkook did not earn this position by being gentle on anyone even his previous mates. Though none of their scents swirled in his head as badly as Belles’. It smelled so sweet, calling out for him to taste even just a little.

Thoughts faded when he heard the bedroom door slam shut forcing him to rush back out to the place he saw the beauty waiting for him but now completely empty. The strong scent of her already fading away, frustrating him in mere seconds.

“Where’s Belle?” He immediately announced as he barged out to the main hall where most of the pack were still chatting and eating.

One of the betas shrugged, licking one of her fingers. “She just walked out of the mansion.”

“And you let her?” His eyes flashed amber silencing the entire group as they finally listened to his every word, barely moving.

“We thought she just went out to hunt or something.” Another beta spoke a little less nonchalantly but uncaring nonetheless.

Jungkook was not surprised considering he pushed past most of these betas to get to the precious omega he wanted. The idea burned him with more fury, raking his fingers through his hair knowing Belle would not just randomly go out to hunt. He rejected her while she was deep in heat, any member of the pack would have been frustrated beyond belief.

“She’s just a scrap member of the pack, Kook.” The first beta spoke up again rolling her eyes at how concerned the alpha looked. “I don’t hear a lot of noises from the bedroom so that means you probably taken her yet so—let her freeze.” She quickly came to regret her words when her neck now tightly encased into Jungkooks’ hand until all her breath stuck in her throat.

“She has more use to the pack on her pinky finger than you do in your whole body.” He seethed before letting her drop to the floor coughing.

“Jimin!” Jungkook growled in command for one of the betas as they rushed out of the mansion in search of his omega.

-

The night was harsh and cold especially since her legs were not properly covered, allowing the breeze to create goosebumps on her skin. Belle had no idea where she was going but the mansion deemed to be an unfriendly and now unsatisfying place to be in. At least it was warm though. Even the mud splotched under her shoes making her feel more exposed, pooling between her legs forced an annoying mixture of desire and disgust.

For a moment she imagined Jungkooks’ reaction of her disappearance. Would he be angry the omega rushed out into the open while still in heat? Would he even care? Hell, had he even noticed at this point that she was gone?

Unlikely, she thought. He probably took in a beta he actually wanted instead of her and continued on with the night in a flurry of pleasure. The vision and thought caused a burning behind her eyes that deemed to be the only warm thing on her body.

A rustle in the bushes made her heart jump as Belle hugged herself even tighter. In a small moment of hope she thought it was Jungkook but the forest looked completely empty. She wanted to call his name out but no sound wanted to be formed. All of her words replaced with shivers. Twig snapped somewhere close by, her ears pricked up trying to back away against the tree trunk until her back hit something.

Except it wasn’t a tree. Trees didn’t have hot breath running down her neck and limbs that tried to wrap around her body.

Belle gasped quickly turning around to see the figure, the tiniest ray of hope of the person being Jungkook now completely destroyed when she came face to face with a man, eyes flashing red and trailing uncomfortable slow down her body.

“Look at you…” He gave her a sinister smirk as she continued to back away. “It’s dangerous for such a pretty omega to be walking around here.” He took a step forward attempting to stay closer distance no matter how much the woman tried to move. “Especially one that—smells so sweet.” His eyes flickered down immediately making Belle press her legs together tight. “Where’s your pack, darling?”

She stammered lightly having that vision of Jungkook again with a beta and her heart sank deeply glancing behind her.

“Oh…” He followed her gaze. “Exiled pup.”

“I wasn’t exiled.” Belle argued. “I—I left.”

He hummed and nodded, plump lips pouting out a little before carefully taking another step, a tiny bit pleased when the creature did not take another step back. “Why did you leave?” The question lingered in the air for a while as the man was now almost overwhelmed by the decadent scent touching his nose.

“My—the alpha—” She gulped down the lump in her throat. “I’m not wanted there.” The reply was simple but saying it made her body close in wanting so badly just to ask Jungkook what she did wrong. But he would never tell her.

“I don’t think that’s the truth.” He shook his head, one more step taken now only closing the distance since the omega stood still. “If I had someone like you in my pack, I would’ve taken you as my mate without a second thought.” Something stirred in his pants even just imagining the idea of this gorgeous creature being his mate. “Especially when you’re in heat…” His deep voice vibrated in her ears a little. “I’d never leave your side.”

Belle gripped onto her coat again averting her gaze to the trees, wondering if sprinting away would be a good idea or could just get her into more trouble. “I don’t know you.”

“Oh my apologies—I’m Taehyung…I lead the pack on the South edge of the forest.” He gestured casually behind him with a small smile.

The omega was a little surprised that this alpha even answered her question. Omegas had no real right to ask anything, they were just supposed to do what they were told and be the butt of everyone’s joke. Part of the reason why all the betas grew furious at her presence after the alpha chose her. The runt of the pack.

“What’s your name?” Taehyung leaned in slightly searching her expression.

“Belle.”

“Belle.” He whispered back, a smile tugging at his lips as his eyes trailed from her bright eyes and slightly glistening pink lips. “I never knew omegas came this pretty.” Taehyung practically stood over her now. “Too bad your alpha didn’t snatch you up when they had the chance.” Fingers hovered over the creatures’ neck trying not to touch the skin just yet. “Good thing I found you. Anyone else would have already grabbed you by now.”

Belle shifted a little to get away from his lingering fingers. “Am I supposed to be thankful?”

“You should always be thankful if an alpha decides not to kill you for being of no use.” Taehyungs’ tone grew serious for a brief moment. Though his expression softened when the omega hung her head not giving him another response. With a sigh, he spoke again. “I’m not going to hurt you. Someone so beautiful should never come in harms’ way.”

“I’m not beautiful.” No one in the pack thought so. Belle never really got to sit at the table with everyone else and on the rare occasion, a few of them sat with her to taunt her about something for entertainment. It sounded like a harsh life but the girl did not really have any other family left to wonder what everything could be like. Besides she felt safe at best in the mansion. Especially since the moment the omega walked out, another alpha sniffed her out in minutes.

Taehyung merely chuckled at her comment. “Would you like me to show just how beautiful you are?” Those wild fingers now hovered over the coat covering her shivering body. “I’ve been wanting a little omega for a while.”

“I’m already—” It would be a lie to say Belle was taken as a mate since she technically was not. But this red eyed alpha was still a stranger no matter how warm his smile looked now. Lying a little might not be such a betrayal. “I’m already taken.”

“Didn’t you say you left?” His brows furrowed but the smile remained. “That means you’re not taken anymore, sweet one. Means you’re open and ripe for any alphas’ taking.” Taehyung’s flashed that deadly color again as he grabbed her chin firmly to force her gaze on him. “So be a good little pup—”

His words interrupted by a heavy growl that echoed through the tress almost making them tremble. In a flash of black Belle saw Taehyung being tackled to the ground, his right eye already bleeding and puffed up before she could even gain her bearings.

Gaze followed the assailant and immediately recognized the long-ish curly hair. His fists practically jackhammered across the other alphas’ face, only giving him the chance let out grunts or cough up blood.

Eventually when Belle’s surrounding came back into clarity, her heart jumped. “Jungkook…” She muttered. The perfect omega inside her wanting to keep her distance and letting the alphas do what they always did. But the part that didn’t want a death because of her running away finally won the battle. “Jungkook, stop!” She grabbed at Jungkooks’ shoulder and tried to pull him back which shocked both the leaders and the beta, Jimin. “I’m sorry…” Her hands moved away from his shoulder back to holding her coat while the two alphas caught their breath.

Jimin glared at her for stopping an alpha fight like that but stayed silent waiting for Jungkook to reprimand the omega instead. The beta did not have any qualm with the creature at all. In fact he thought she was very kind to all the members despite that kindness not being returned a lot of the time. However Jimin knew the rules. Omegas were never allowed to consort with the alpha at all in most cases but breaking up an alpha brawl broke all kinds of tradition.

Taehyung struggled to get himself up from the ground but tried to hide it as much as he could, pulling out a handkerchief and wiping away all the excess blood. “Doesn’t seem like you weren’t wanted, little omega.” He smirked.

Belle merely hung her head not wanting to face anyone and hoped to disappear into thin air. It became harder to be invisible nowadays ever since she got chosen. Everyone either stared at her, whispered or tried to taunt her more than normal just so they could see a reaction that would make her look weak. That way Jungkook would in some way ‘open his eyes’ and figure out she was nothing but a runt. Never good enough.

“You fight dirty as always, Jeon.”

“I told you not to cross to our border.” Jungkook sounded and looked like he had no time for Taehyungs’ smug antics.

“Easy now.” He chuckled. “I just smelled a stray pup and wanted to help. Is that so evil?” His voice was sickly sweet but his wild eyes spoke other things looking over at Belle again causing Jungkook to stand in front of her. “I could get her scent from miles away. It’s almost like she’s never been touched in heat.” He tilted his head.

The omega gulped while Jungkook tightened his jaw.

Taehyung then smiled at the silence. “Ah—she hasn’t.” His eyes flashed red again. “An innocent pup.”

“Don’t come onto my border again or your pack will have to find a new alpha.” Jungkook threatened, eyes still completely amber wanting to rip those wandering eyes out from his sockets.

He raised his hands in defense though as usual taking no real responsibility in considering it seriously. “No more sneaking around. So long as you keep your members in check next time.” Taehyung winked before turning on his heel and disappearing into the forest.

Deadly silence plunged into the forest while Belle’s skin felt like a thin layer of ice covered every inch from how long she had been exposed to the air.

Jungkook stood with his back to her, anger still radiating out of him. “Jimin…go back to the mansion. We’ll catch up.”

Jimin stammered a little wanting to protest but the alpha flashed his still amber eyes forcing him to bow in farewell. He gave a soft glance at the omega trying to be reassuring and not furious but quickly sprinted back into the forest not knowing how much effect it had.

Once the two stood alone in the forest, the alpha spoke.

“All the things you’ve done tonight. You could’ve been killed because of at least one of them.” Jungkook kept his back to her while the omega lowered her head again, staring at her mud covered shoes. “You need to stay out of an alpha fight.”

“I know.” She mumbled.

“And you need to stay indoors when you’re alone and especially when you’re in heat, you know that.” His voice grew more frustrated as the words spewed out of his mouth almost carelessly. “He could’ve taken you by force or even killed you.”

“But he didn’t, I’m fine.” It only came to her attention after a few moments of absorbing his words that this was the most feeling Jungkook had when he spoke to her. Maybe it was just adrenaline from the fist fight.

Jungkook scoffed. “No you’re not. This isn’t fine. A fucking alpha was just about take my own mate in my own territory.” He gestured towards the forest around them wildly.

“I’m not your mate!” Belle snapped finally looking at the male and seeing the glisten of sweat layered on his skin. “You barely even touch me. You just chose me—all I’m doing is sitting, eating and sleeping the same place you are. I’m not your mate, I’m your little unsatisfied housewife!”

He stomped closer to the omega, her scent practically shooting up his nostrils to his head.

“You—you don’t find me beautiful, what’s the point?” She looked down at the covered outfit she had so passionately adorned on her body just to please Jungkook. Only to be once again met with a cold shoulder that seemed to never melt off. “All I want to do is make you happy—but you don’t even want to look at me.”

The alpha stared down at his little omega telling him that she wanted to make him happy. Everyone wanted to make him happy somehow but they always had a ulterior motive and it was never hard to tell. Getting close to the alpha meant getting close to being alpha. But he could sense something else in her tone that never rung with anyone else.

Sincere loyalty.

Not an ambition to fight to the death but a genuine want to please the one she cared about. Jungkook could not express just how much he wanted to do the same thing. “The reason—I don’t look at you…is because when I do, I want to devour you right there and then.”

Belle searched his expression looking for any sign of deceit but it was always hard to read the leader.

“Everything you do…” Jungkook sighed to calm himself down from how much his fingers trembled being so close to her scent. “…I can’t think of anything else. I want to do more things to you than you can imagine.”

She had to close her eyes for a second letting out a shaky sigh, feeling more lust leak out of her making the area between her legs almost drenched. Biting down her bottom lip she held onto his freshly injured hand and placed it under her nightie. Belle had to stop herself from moaning already at his warm hands against her cold skin, riding up her thigh to her soaking wet cunt.

Jungkook growled under his throat finally feeling her cake thighs after so long of just pining and looking. Then the heavenly drench on his fingers pads from making just the slightest contact had him grabbing the back of her neck. Lips stopped merely a breath away from hers trying to keep himself contained from going too wild on her untouched body. Well…now slightly touched.

Belle caressed his chest, gasping lightly as his hand moved achingly slow on her core while her head was kept still dangerously close to his. “Do them to me.” She whispered, a soft, reassuring smile graced her features. “Please…I don’t want to imagine them anymore.” She brushed her own lips against his just gently. Not a kiss but a non-verbal plead. “Take me.”

The alpha managed to keep his control for so long when it came to the omega even though it grew harder and harder by each passing day. Tonight became his breaking point. Now that her scent overwhelmed his entire being, fingers soaked from her juices and those beautiful lips brushing against his, the beast inside him finally broke out of its cage. Leaning in Jungkook took her bottom lip between his twin flesh suckling on the skin and tasting a strawberry hint. Tongue ran across the soft surface as he felt her arms wrap around his neck.

Her heart pounded excitedly against her ribcages finally being able to feel her alphas’ lips again her own. His rough hands shifting from the aching core to her ass, squeezing it a little as Belle parted her lips to invite his tongue happily. Complete submission to the beloved leader had been her wish from the beginning. To see it come true caused a different kind of burn behind her eyes and under her skin.

Reluctantly Jungkook broke away only a little not forgetting to place a trail of pecks before looking into her eyes again. As soon as he gave her that sweet smile, the alpha ducked down and threw her over his shoulder, hand covering the small peek of her ass from her nightie.

-

Once at the mansion, the whole pack watched the alpha had opted to hold his omega’s hand while he took her to their bedroom. The beta who said for Belle to freeze tried to walk over to them and talk to Jungkook only to have the door slammed in her face.

Jungkook pushed Belle into the room and locked the door behind him. Turning around, his eyes were already blown out with lust raking up and down her body. “Show it to me again.” It was a softer demand but a demand nonetheless.

With a willing smile, the omega unzipped the long coat and shrugged it off, throwing it to the side. It didn’t take amazing eyesight to notice the tent growing in his pants. At this point her juices could leak down the inside of her thighs. “Is it nice?” She played with her fingers which made her look a lot more innocent and Jungkook could actually whine.

“Take it off.” He muttered, his mind rummaging through all the sinful things he could do to his little eager mate. “I want to see you.”

Belle kept her gaze on the alpha as her hands gently hooked onto the ends of her thin nightie and pulled it over her head. The piece of cloth now discarded same as the coat. “Like this?”

Jungkook had already accidently seen her in the shower; blurry sights of what her curves and crevices looked like but it did not give the real deal justice. How anyone could have the guts to call her the runt of the pack he would never know. They would watch their tongues next time they tried however. Walking over to the beauty, his hands immediately found their shaking way to her waist, caressing down to her hips making her utter the sweetest breathy hums. Lips pressed onto her neck, leaving trails of kisses until he came to left breast.

Her hands buried into his hair as he swirled his tongue around her nipple before suckling on it lightly. Knees grew weak at every movement trying to keep herself steady while his lips slid down her stomach to her aching core.

The alpha knew once he got this close to her beautiful heat there would be going back. Every day the taste of her would end up lingering on his tongue until he got to taste it again. The beautiful omega did things to him he could never explain to even her let alone anyone in the pack. Despite knowing this personal risk, Jungkook did what he craved for so long. Tongue moved up from her leaking hole to her throbbing clit. He couldn’t help but smile a little at how her whole body jerked at the new found pleasure.

Belle felt how his tongue licked at one particular spot that jolted a surge up her body making her jerk. In seconds, she felt his lips wrap around the small nub coaxing light moans to spew out of her while her fingers still tangled in his hair. “Jungkook…”

He moaned sending vibrations against her core. With a slight pop, Jungkook broke from his light snacking and bite onto her thighs like he always wanted.

The omega giggled affectionately caressing his head before he stood over her. A few messy steps and Belle dropped back onto the bed. Propping herself up on her elbows, she watched Jungkook strip himself of his clothes until they were both now bare. Lust blown eyes stared down at his twitching, hard member before licking her lips.

“Spread your legs.” Jungkook only had to tap her knee gently for her to move her legs apart more than enough for him to sneak in between. Wrapping his fingers around his cock, he rubbed the reddened tip against her clit making her throw her head back. “You want it, baby?”

Belle nodded frantically.

“I can’t hear you.” His tip poked at her slit. The little game tortured him as much it did her but he wanted to hear her beg.

“Yes, I want it..” She jerked her hips against his movements, gasping when the tip of his cock entered her slightly. “I want it so bad.”

She always knew how to touch that extra nerve in his body every single time. It was almost magical how the omega had so much control over him by being so perfectly submissive. Jungkook pushed his cock into her snug little hole with soaked ease, her cunt flowing making it all the more harder not to just pound her into oblivion. His hips moved slow letting the sounds of watery sloshing ring in his ears. Arms pressed down the sides of her body, hovering over the omega as he relished in her warm walls.

Belle held onto his forearm as she watched her pussy getting stretched by his cock. The amount of times she dreamed of this happening was a little embarrassing. Now that it was happening and his shaft inside her felt so invigorating, she could giggle in glee.

Their foreheads pressed together softly as Jungkook whispered. “You like that?”

She nodded, gasping and moaning. “Yeah…”

The one word was all that needed to be uttered for him to quicken his pace a little, skin slapping against each other ever so slightly. Jungkook shifted down to his elbows now as he caressed her cheek. “Don’t ever leave me like that again.” He whispered a little breathless, still thrusting into her steadily.

“I won’t…” Belle cupped his cheek, struggling to keep her gaze as the pleasure tickled her every nerve. “I won’t, I promise.”

Lips pressed against hers, tongue exploring everything he knew was willingly submitted to him tonight. Once the kiss broke the softness melted along with it as the alpha pounded into her cunt. Arms back up, muscles popping out furiously before hooking one of her legs over his shoulder.

Her moaning became an uneven pattern melting into the sounds of their wet skin grinding and slapping against each other. As soon as Jungkook leaned in closer, Belle muffled a few of her whimpers into a heated kiss while her hand moved down to find that little nub, rubbing it to match with his thrusts. The tight ball in her lower belly exploded before she could even expect it, her legs trembling and a flurry of moans passing her lips.

Jungkook felt her walls clench around him already feeling the pressure around his cock push him closer to his orgasm. His thrusts grew a little more brutal grabbing her hips and hammering into her while she gave him that beautiful, innocent smile to reassure him it was okay to keep going despite her sensitivity.

“Cum inside me…” She managed to say as her body literally shook with the force of his thrusts.

Her adorable whisper was all it took for the alpha to finally come undone, filling his beauty up with his seed in a sloppy and rough thrusts. Only until the last drop did he pull out slowly watching a little bit of his release dripping out of her.

“I’m yours now.” Belle giggled.

Naked, cleaner bodies cuddled together under the blankets now relishing in their new found intimacy after so long suffering distance and silence.

“Would you have gone with him?” Jungkook asked.

Belle sighed, heart sinking a little when all her true thoughts popped in her head first. “I didn’t want to. But I would’ve to save myself, I guess. Otherwise he could’ve just killed me.” She shrugged nonchalantly. Truthfully she did like the attention Taehyung gave her despite his less than chivalrous nature. He had a danger about him that was less creepy more intriguing but still nothing compared to what Jungkook made her feel. Though the omega did not want to ruin the new mood they had so her verbalizing answer only lingered in the air. “Would you have found someone else after I left?” She traced patterns on his chest.

The alpha gulped not knowing how to tell her that he had eyes on her for the longest time to a point where he barely noticed what the other members looked like. Granted they were pretty but a lot of people were ‘pretty’. “Probably not. None of them would taste as good as you.”

She giggled hiding her face in his torso. “You didn’t even taste me then.”

“No but you smelled really fucking good.” He smiled nudging the top of her head with his nose. “I thought I lost you…just for a second.”

“If an alpha came up to me after this, I will fight.”

“You will?”

“Of course…” She propped herself on her elbow and smiled up at him. “I’m yours now, remember?” She lay a small kiss on his chest.

Jungkook caressed her cheek, not being able to help mimicking a little smile of his own. “You’re mine.”

#jungkook #bts smut #bts fanfic #jungkook smut #bts fanfiction #bts werewolf au #jungkook werewolf au #werewolf au #supernatural au #tw: smut

[alkalinefrog]

may I request your top 10 favorie lawlight fics ?? I’m really interested

AIGHT BUCKLE UP BUTTERCUP because I’ve got a lot of feelings about these! Also, people have been asking me for fics featuring:

Ryuk shenanigans

yagami sibling hijinks

whammy kids found family

----- from my bingo card I made a while back. Tbh, I put those on the list to try and manifest the energy into the universe hoping people would bring fics to ME about them lmao. I do have a couple that check the boxes though! 

Also thank you to everyone who’s been recommending me fics!! You’ve all hit the nail on the head and sing straight to my heart! I’m just slow to make my way through them between work. <3

GOING UNDER THE CUT (rip mobile users)

Aight here we go, in no particular order:

“Change OR the one where L and Light get married” by @translightyagami (I’m so sorry I keep tagging you in these alsfjkalsfdj)

The one I never shut up about and am adapting part of into a comic because it’s just that GOOD. :’’’D Light and L get married in front of Watari and Light’s family back at the Whammy orphanage in England. A melancholy yet painfully sweet tale as Light and L reminisce on their history together while getting ready for the ceremony, and their first night together afterwards. Single-handedly sold me on Kira being intrinsically part of Light to boot.

“the forest holds strange creatures” by @translightyagami (I’m sorryyyyyyy I just love your stuff)

An AU where Light’s a paranormal researcher and L’s a reclusive cryptid living in the forest next to a small town. The writing has a fairytale feel to it, and the romance is so gentle. Light’s bunking at Whammy’s small little house, and Near and Mello are there as little kids pestering Light. It’s ADORABLE. Beyond Birthday also shows up in one of the extra chapters as a creepy cashier at a thrift shop for double the fun!

"Sickness” by BlueberryValentine (more fics on their fanfiction.net account!)

The ultimate hurt/comfort + fluff + angst with a happy ending fic. The first fic I read to get back into lawlight a couple months back! Canon divergence starting during the Yotsuba arc. Light is diagnosed with terminal brain cancer while still under investigation. L has to take care of him, and somewhere along the way they fall in love. It carved out a chunk of my heart but luckily filled it back up with a sweet sort of aching.

“Seeking His Hand” by magic__mind

Historical regency AU! L is a rich nobleman courting Light, a humble farm boy, for his hand in marriage. One of the most romantic pieces of literature that I have ever come across. The prose is pure poetry, and their love so pure! This one also has a special place in my heart for its portrayal of Misa! She’s A)a spy who helps L on his cases, B)totally removed from her co-dependence for Light, C)the  bubbly badass she was always meant to be. 100/10 worth the read!

The “Resurrections” Series by Shadow_of_Quill

A modern Orpheus and Euridice story, wherein Light’s spirit leads L back from Hades while he’s still Kira. L is thereby present for the confrontation at the warehouse. Believing that any trace of Light is lost in the man, he executes him right then and there. However, this was a grave mistake, and Light’s soul won’t be as easily revived. (spoilers, they’re both fine in the end) ******* THIS ONE ALSO INCLUDES YAGAMI SIBLING HIJINKS. Sayu plays a HUGE role in bringing Light back!

“Is This The Way It Ends Now?” by Seastar98

The one that checks off ALL the above three boxes!! A “characters watch their own show” fic, wherein the gang receives a mysterious DVD in the middle of the Yotsuba arc. Horrified by what’s to come, Light and L work to make sure their future is brighter than the one they witness. They bring in all three heirs to watch with ‘em, everyone gets character development, and Sayu comes in like black panther in endgame yet again to bring Light back from the darkness! Ryuk pops up in the end and the epilogue and he’s great. The ultimate and most direct fix-it you’re ever gonna get.

“From the Same Star” by Nilahxapiel

This is my only pure “Ryuk Shenanigans” fic, and it’s really really sad :’’’D A short but sweet one-shot wherein Ryuk traverses multiple dimensions, dropping the Death Note at Light’s feet each time. Light and L were always fated to clash, and it’s just as heartbreaking every time. 

“Primitive Liars” by Nilahxapiel

This one’s super popular in the fandom for a reason! The only omegaverse fic that I’ve liked! The A/B/O dynamics and their affect on society are super well developed, and the writer manages to keep L and Light very in character while still developing their budding romance in a believable way. This is an AU where somebody else is Kira, and Light’s genuinely helping L and the task force hunt him down. ***** Naomi Misora lives, the heirs come in, and Sayu actually hops aboard the task force!!! DUDE. BRILLIANT. I also just love the exploration of gender and identity that the author weaves in. Lots of LGBTQ rep!

“and indeed there will be time” by lawlietismyfavorite

The ultimate soulmate AU. People grow to be 18, then stop aging until they meet their one. L is the greatest detective of not only this century, but of six centuries. And then there's Light. (taken straight from the description!) The prose is absolutely breathtaking; like walking through a dream. Can not recommend this fic enough! It’s got my head up in the clouds and looking towards the stars!

“K” by  Dlvvanzor

AU where Light’s a Whammy with the moniker ‘K.’ He and L grow up together along with kiddos covering the rest of the alphabet. A murder-mystery-thriller on top of the romance featuring Beyond Birthday as a main character! Light’s a pathological liar and L’s super into it. They’re the top students at Whammy’s and are tasked with solving a string of homicides happening RIGHT AT THE ORPHANAGE (guess who dunnit). It had me on the edge of my seat, and I binged the whole thing in two days.

i’mMMMM doing more than 10, this’ll just be my ultimate fic rec post 😂

“Change of Circumstances” by wordbombs

Another AU where Light’s a whammy! It’s just a one-shot though, but one of my all time faves!!! I’ve gone back and reread it so many times and drew some stuff for it a couple weeks back. Much more light-hearted than “K”, Light arrives at the orphanage at age four and meets an eleven year old L, and from there they grow up together and fall in love (the age difference is handled really well, L’s not physically present for a lot of Light’s childhood and they bond on a platonic level first). It’s one of the healthiest relationship dynamics that I’ve seen for these two, which is honestly such a breath of fresh air. Matt, Mello, and Near are there too in the background!

“Dial K for Kira” by @kiranatrix

“Light needs some easy money to finance his Kira plans, and notices there’s a big demand for Kira roleplay phone sex. So he figures, “Why not? Pretty sure I’ll be convincing.”He raises some fast cash and plans to shut the whole thing down and get back to writing names, until he gets a request from somebody who wants to “roleplay” as L....“

Taken straight from the description! It’s very VERY NSFW so be warned. I’m too shy to talk about it more alskfjdasldjf sorry BUT IT’S GREAT.

“Dance with Me” and “Birthday Note” by @dotti55fanfiction

These are both one-shots so I’m putting ‘em together! Absolutely adorable tooth-rotting fluff!! “Dance with Me” has Light and L going to a club, while “Birthday Note” features L trying to think of the best present for Light. The dictionary definition of “warm fuzzies.” (Dotti ilu, I still gotta find time to read your longer works)

“you’re a wasp nest” by  raisuki (inthegripofahurricane)

Blind!Light AU! Light and L are both college students who meet when Sayu dares L to break into her house. Yagami sibling hijinksssss! Their quippy dialogue is adorable and it’s just a fun time watching them flirt.

“softly now” by smallestbird (jenwryn)

THANK YOU TO THE ANON WHO SENT ME THIS REC. The softest lawlight one-shot to finish off this list! Light and L share an intimate moment while painting their new apartment. The absolute JOY this fic radiates in a short 700 words!! Read it before bed for the sweetest dreams!

These are just my favourites, but read anything by any of these authors and you will not be disappointed! I might make a separate post later for soulmate AUs because... There’s just too many. :’D

-Alka

#Anonymous #ask #fic rec #lawlight #text #when you meet a work deadline and use the extra time to catch up on asks lol

[otomegema]

title: Convergence Theory, ch. 2 pairing: Gojo Satoru x Reader summary: You are a lesser family member of the Gojo clan, so far removed you don’t even carry the name, but you carry the Limitless ability and thus the potential to be a bride to the future head of the clan— a fact you patently reject at fifteen. Twelve years later you are a second grade sorcerer struggling to obtain first grade status when the object of your deepest objections offers you a deal. rating: mature tropes: fake dating/engagement, rivals to lovers, slow romance Link: Archive of Our Own

It had been a logical move to allow Gojo to take down your number, entering it into his contacts with an obscene amount of heart and wishing star emojis by the brief glance you caught over his shoulder. It looked like he was already banking on your acceptance of the deal, but when you parted, your to-go sushi in a small plastic bag, you hadn’t expected to hear from him until tomorrow evening at the latest.

Or maybe even never.

But now, back in the hotel you were being comped for while in Tokyo, you wished silently that you’d never given that man your cell phone number.

Honey

Baby

Future-pretend-love-of-my-life

Have you made a decision?

He wasn’t human. It was barely 6am, did he wake up this early for lessons every day? You groaned, nearly swatting the phone off the nightstand in the dark.

You shot back a fast reply.

-oh I’m sorry

-I’m still recovering from getting electrocuted the other day

-Some asshat led a curse to me

You rolled over, managing to get at least another decent half hour of sleep in before the phone chimed again, lighting up the darkened hotel room.

\(★ω★)/

YOUR asshat

Should you choose to accept this mission

You threw off your covers, forcing yourself up to sit against the stack of pillows behind you as you tapped out a reply.

-My pretend asshat

-Mother will be so proud

The dots of his reply began immediately.

So is that a yes?

You sighed, rolling your eyes to yourself.

-Day isn’t over -Hasn’t even started tyvm

The dots began. Stopped. Began and stopped again, this time not reappearing. You tossed your phone onto the bed and teetered up and over to the coffee maker. The pot was finishing brewing by the time your phone chimed again.

You’re so slow.

The addition of punctuation and the sudden lack of emoji seemed almost like a warning flare that Gojo’s patience was waning. But you hardly knew the man and really, what did you care? A favor for a favor was what he offered. You didn’t owe him anything.

I have other options too.

His text continued and for a moment you frowned, wondering if his intention was to have that sound like a threat. You felt heat rising in your throat— he didn’t want to play that game.

So no pressure. Genuinely.

Oh. Good. That was better. You felt the tension uncoil as fast as it had grown.

Tho I AM your only hope for advancement <3

You could have thrown the phone right through the wall. Your thumbs worked rapidly, shooting out your reply in no time.

-Ah yes, your finest quality

A quick appearance of dots.

My special grade ranking? (･ω<)☆

You smirked.

-Humility

You’re no fun.

Text me when you are done being boring.

This was probably the most you had ever spoken to Gojo, despite having seen him on and off from a distance for the better half of your life. He was hard to miss. Every event at the main house would have him and his immediate family at the forefront. No one ever stopped talking about Gojo Satoru and his accomplishments and his strength and his skill as a sorcerer.

It was nauseating, having to pretend to nod and smile like it was all some great blessing just to orbit near him. It was bad enough he read like a sun to your abilities, as if he needed to be made to think he was anymore of the center of the universe.

Your palm itched. The desire to tap back a response now, a firm denial, very strong. But not stronger than your excitement at the possibility of being a first grade sorcerer. It was everything you had wanted. Prestige, recognition, tougher missions and the pay and rewards that came with them.

You were no weakling. Sure the telemetry technique took you out of commission, but it was hardly your greatest feat. You had finally been able to manifest the cursed technique lapse, blue. Granted, it was a one off and exhausted you so fully afterwards that you nearly fainted on the spot… but your tolerance was getting better. The precision of your manipulation of your cursed energy would never be on par with Gojo, but you could, some day, maybe even manage to shoot the technique off twice.

Reversal Red was next to impossible. And Hollow Technique? Truly impossible. The Six Eyes was needed to even attempt it. Most of your practice had been devoted to perfecting your long distance teleportation skills, fine tuning your telemetry technique and working on establishing your domain. That one was easier. The Unlimited Void crushed your opponent beneath an overload of sensory information, information you could easily channel and tap into with your own unique skills as a Limitless user.

But like all things, you were only second best. And barely. It was a joke. Comparing yourself to Gojo. He was on a level you could never achieve— unless.

You grabbed your phone, hastily dialing the new number and wincing at the loud, cheerful greeting from the other line.

“Good morning, moon of my soul, tenderest heart, darling—!“

“I haven’t even said yes yet, you monster.”

“Ah! A name of my very own? Be still my trembling heart!”

“I wish to make an amendment to the agreement.”

There was a lengthy pause. You could practically hear the slow spread of that sly smile. Content as the cat who caught the canary.

He knew he was about to win.

“Let’s hear it.”

“If you are putting my name forward for first grade, that means you have someone else in mind to be the second backer and someone in mind for me to shadow on missions and train with, yeah?

“I do.” Gojo said, his tone surprisingly serious.

“Have them put my name forward instead. I want to shadow you.”

Gojo laughed, a short mirthless thing, “What makes you think I have the time?”

“You have enough time to play pretend, I’d think any fiancé would leap at the chance to be with his lovely wife-to-be and keep her safe.”

Gojo hummed.

“Why me?”

This was an oddly familiar conversation.

“Purely selfish reasons. You are the best Limitless user. I am a Limitless user. I want you to teach me.”

“You aren’t on my level.” He said, no malice in his words, just simple facts.

“Then teach me what I can handle.”

There was another pause.

“I’m not gonna go easy on you just because you’re my girl.”

The bare utterance of the endearment sent a shiver up your arms and not an entirely pleasant one either. His girl. God, how would you even begin to explain this fake engagement to your parents? Who knew the depth of your jealousy and bitterness over Gojo since you were— what? Five? Younger?

“Since I am just your ‘pretend’ girl, I wouldn’t expect anything less.”

“Your funeral, babe.” Gojo said, “But I’m glad we resolved this early! Because we are having dinner. Reservations are made, I’ll pick you up at seven. Wear something pretty!”

Your words caught in your throat, stuttering across your tongue and unable to force out before the line cut off and he was gone.

You pressed the edge of your phone to your temple, already feeling a headache coming on. Something pretty? Shit.

-Something pretty? -Too vague. I have no idea what I’m supposed to wear.

A dress! Something for the evening. A Line.

V Neck def

Show off what puberty gave ya (＾〃＾)

Chiffon with ruffle lace

And grey-blue

-Why?

To match my eyes <3

-Where in the world do you expect me to find that specific dress in the next few hours

Downstairs with hotel staff I had it dropped off <3 <3 <3

-That’s creepy

(つω`｡) </3 </3

-Enough with the hearts -How much? I’ll pay you back

It is a gift <3

-How’d you even know my size

A gentleman never reveals his secrets

┐(‘～` )┌

You sighed and set aside your phone to call down to the front desk. Sure enough, a few minutes later someone brought up a large white box, tied with a grey-blue ribbon. You set the package on the small counter in your room’s kitchen and opened the lid, brushing aside soft tissue paper.

The dress was ridiculously soft, made of fine, nearly translucent layers of chiffon. It was a lovely color, the sight making you suddenly think of the feeling in the air before a thunderstorm, the smell of rain. The ribbon matched.

You looked for a price tag and found none, but folded away at the bottom of the box was a hand written receipt. You paled at the figure displayed on it.

-Gojo, I can’t possibly accept this.

Don’t be stupid. No one would believe I was serious about a woman unless I was positively spoiling her rotten. s’not like it broke the bank!

-Forget the first-grade rec

-Pay my bills

Too late! Negotiations are closed :)

-So what the hell am I doing at this dinner?

Eating Duh and being seen with yours truly easy peasy right?

You sipped your coffee, keeping the mug well away from the dress. It was certainly nicer than anything you had ever owned in— well. Ever. It was hard to argue that there were clearly going to be some additional perks to this arrangement you hadn’t previously thought of.

Plus we gotta go over some ground rules

-Thought you said negotiations were closed

-This mean we can revisit my bills?

g2g

Students need me!

Ttyl babe

The ease in which that man showered you so soon with endearments was nauseating. Had he ever even had a girlfriend before? Or just those usual moon-eyed women who fawned and petted him?

And now everyone was gonna think you were one of those girls. You drank your coffee faster, relishing in the way it burned down your throat and overpowered the bad taste in your mouth.

“First-grade… first-grade. Remember the first-grade.”

And training. You’d squeeze every possible benefit from this arrangement out that you could. Sorcerers worked in teams, but at the end of the day, it was every man and woman for themselves.

Let them think what they want when you were seen tonight. You would come out on top.

***

The day passed quickly and you found yourself standing in front of the hotel mirror, twisting back and forth to get a feel for the movement of the dress— and half practicing staying upright in the heels that had arrived not even a moment later.

They were high enough to be appealing, but low enough to keep you from falling over on your face. Gojo had texted an explanation that he figured you were out of practice in wearing anything other than sneakers and combat boots and to consider them training wheels.

You’d wanted, once again, to punch him in the face.

The kind of girl he liked was a stilettos kinda girl, you guessed, huffing to yourself as you sat down and twirled one of your ankles, stretching the muscle. Even the low heels were not entirely comfortable, but you’d manage.

Checking your makeup one last time, you picked up your own worn purse and slung it over your shoulder. Women who wore these kind of dresses and came in on the arm’s of other men and women like Gojo never had anything more than the smallest clutch— but you weren’t those women.

You made your way down to the lobby and were surprised to find a chauffeur waiting outside with a very very sleek European car of some kind. You weren’t great about those kinds of things, only noting the seats were made with soft black leather and there was even a divider built in like in a limo to give the passengers privacy.

The chauffeur ushered you into the empty car and you sat back with a sigh as silently he delivered you to the next destination. You had, in some small place, hoped Gojo would already be present.

Why he felt the need for such spectacle was beyond you, but maybe this was what was expected of a clan family son when he courted a young woman. It felt— weird. Nice, but weird. The drive was not overly long, the car coming to stop.

You knew this restaurant. Some fancy French-Japanese fusion place that charged a hundred dollars for a single plate with a broiled pear covered in wasabi or some weird shit. Already you felt your stomach churning with anxiety and encroaching regret.

This was gonna suck.

This was gonna suck so bad.

The chauffeur opened the door and you barely managed not to wobble on the pavement. Feeling stilted and exposed as other guests and couples regarded you with open curiosity and veiled judgment.

Clearly they were used to seeing the same people come and go from this restaurant and you were not one of them.

You clutched your bag tighter to your arm, hand reaching inside instinctively to find your phone and text Gojo you were out. This was over. Find someone else— when your surname was shouted from the door.

All eyes turned as if in sync to Gojo, wearing simple trousers and a white shirt tucked in. He didn’t even have a tie or a jacket, his dark glasses obscuring his eyes even as he looked right at you.

A few people tsked their disapproval, but they may as well have been ghosts for all the attention Gojo paid them. When you didn’t immediately make your way over to him, Gojo shoved his hands into his pockets and strode over to meet you.

He grinned, the lowering of his chin and the slow rise back up an obvious indicator he was sizing you up and didn’t care if you knew.

He whistled.

“Ow, ow!”

“Shut it— you know this dress could cover my rent for half a year?! And these shoes! I could buy a used car with this ensemble.”

“You even drive?”

“Not the point.”

He laughed again, loud and careless.

“Figured since you were dawdling you might need an arm to lean on.” Gojo said, offering your his elbow without removing his hands from his pockets, “Or perhaps…”

He feigned a gasp, “Are you feeling shy?”

“I’m leaving.” you deadpanned, managing half a turn before his hand was on your waist, turning you back. He took your hand, the feeling of his palm on your side still burned into your skin as he hooked your arm in his own.

You allowed it, leaning on him only a little. He looked pleased, smugly so, as he led you inside and to a table that was already set for two.

There was a wine glass sitting by your own plate. The one by Gojo’s was turned upside down and set to the side… a can of soda sitting, bright and out of place, in its spot.

“… where did you even get that.”

“Vending machine.” Gojo said simply and even kicked your chair out a little for you to take a seat. How flattering.

“Wine is for you, if you want it. Figured it might help take the edge off.”

You rolled your eyes, not bothering to wait for the server to return and simply tipping the bottle of red into your own glass.

“What about you?”

“I don’t drink.” He said, cracking the tab on his soda with a loud pop. Several eyes filtered your way, whispers behind hands and napkins as Gojo all but drained the can in one gulp.

“So— ground rules?” you said, unfolding a cloth napkin and settling it in a half folded triangle across your lap the way you saw other women doing.

“Straight in, huh? Alright. Terms.” Gojo lifted one finger, “As already discussed, you and I will be ‘courting’— dating. Whatever the fuck. I’ll take care of arranging the dates, you show up, act sufficiently smitten and in about a year give or take, we break up.”

Gojo lifted a second finger, “Two. In exchange, I have two first grade sorcerers who will back your promotion. And, as requested—“ Gojo’s voice dropped a fraction, almost grumpily, “—you’ll come with me on my missions for your first semi-grade probation.”

“Now ground rules. At any point either of us wants out, it’s done. No questions asked. But don’t think that means you get to ditch and just keep that first grade appointment. I’ll make sure you end up right back at a grade two.”

You sipped your wine, giving your mouth something to do than form some very choice words at that moment. Gojo noticed, his smile almost a snarl, but the expression quickly vanished. You had a funny feeling trying to hoodwink or swindle him would end very poorly for anyone.

“And when you develop feelings for me—“

“If.” You amended quickly, but Gojo ignored you.

“—when you develop feelings for me. You have to tell me and again, the engagement is over. You can keep your rank. No harm no foul. I can hardly blame you for falling for me.” Gojo said with a wistful sigh. You were grateful for the arrival of the first course, forcing you both to fall silent for a moment until they departed.

You had no idea what was on the plate. Some kind of salad? It was hardly a mouthful. Gojo didn’t even touch his silverware and feeling less than impressed with the cuisine, you didn’t either.

You drank your wine.

“Barring sickness or injury you are required to appear for every date I set. Including the ones where you have to meet other members of the main family.”

You frowned, but didn’t object.

“Wait— what about you?”

“What about me?”

“Is the engagement off when you develop feelings for me?” You said lightly, trying to play off your smile as wistful.

Gojo scoffed, his reaction almost enough to hurt your feelings… just a little bit.

“Non-issue. I don’t do feelings.”

“God, you sound like a fuck boy.” The words came out before you could stop yourself, the last syllable off your tongue right at the moment the server had returned to reclaim your plates. An eyebrow was raised and you hid your face down with a flustered cough.

By the time you looked back up, you got the joy of seeing Gojo staring at you from over his glasses, a broad and deeply amused grin on his face.

“Not non-issue. If I get the feelings rule you get the feelings rule. End discussion.”

Gojo shrugged, again not touching the newest course which was, to your extreme annoyance, some kind of grilled pear.

“You should slow down.” He warned in a sing song voice as you poured another glass.

“I’m not a baby— okay. So we got terms, we got ground rules. Anything else?”

“You can’t refuse my gifts.”

Your eyes narrowed sharply and he simply smiled and hummed with a shrug.

“It’s for appearances! Oh. Speaking of appearances—“ Gojo sat up, fishing something from his back pocket and sitting it on the table. You stared at the simple black box, fearing a vein might burst in your forehead at any moment.

“What is that.” You stated more than asked.

“Open it.” Gojo said, his voice light and encouraging as he nudged the box closer, “Come on, open it. Open it. You know you wanna, sweetie, light of my life, fire of my lo—“

You snatched the box up if only to stop him from finishing that sentence.

You swallowed hard, the sounds of the room fading out as you flipped open the box and found, sitting upon a small satin pillow— a… key?

You lifted it from the box, noting it even had a little custom keychain made to look like a white cat with a tiny blindfold.

“It’s to my apartment!” Gojo announced with a giddy laugh, clasping his hands together in a way that was entirely un-adult like.

“… I have my own place. Thank you.”

“In Kyoto. This is here, in Tokyo. Where you will need to stay for this all to work, remember?”

“Where will you stay?” You asked dryly, vaguely hoping his answer would be something other than what it was no doubt going to be.

“Very funny. You’ll have your own room—if you want it.”

“Why—“ your voice nearly broke and you had to take a moment to clear it, “Why uh— why wouldn’t I be wanting my own room?”

“Feelings are off limits, naturally. But if you want to take me up again on that offer from back in the day…”

The surge of cursed energy that rippled off of you was so strong Gojo nearly toppled backwards, his laugh gaining a somewhat nervous lift to it if only for just a moment.

“I’ll have my own room. My own locked room.” You bit out, feeling your face flushing hot and hating every second Gojo seemed to be enjoying your utter mortification, “Unless that is a problem.”

“Nope. Not at all. Probably for the best ultimately, I’ve been told I have a bad habit of dickmatizing folks.”

“… I’m sorry, you what.”

“Dickmatizing! Ya know. Like hypnotizing but with—“

“I got it!” You groaned, pressing your face into your hand. When did it get so damn hot in here? You snatched up your wine glass and finished off the contents, feeling even hotter.

“Is that all?”

“Unless anything comes to your mind, then yep.” Gojo finished, ignoring yet another course. You were almost tempted. The dish was some kind of meat, but the sauce drenched over it smelt sharply of something bitter and sour at the same time. You stomach recoiled at the thought and yet rumbled in protest to its growing hunger.

“So what do you think?”

“You’re disgusting?” you said flatly.

“I meant about the deal.”

You glowered openly at him. It was going to take a lot of practice to turn that deprecating expression you felt naturally pull unto your face at his sight into something loving and tender… but for first-grade ranking? For lessons on your Limitless? Fuck. Fuck you’d do it.

You poured the remainder of the bottle into your glass and polished it off in one shot.

“I accept.”

Gojo clapped his hands together, “Excellent! Now let’s get the hell out of here.”

“Huh?” You barely managed to get the questioning sound out before Gojo was up and out of his chair. You scrambled up, head rushing with the wine and the weirdness of this entire conversation. By the time you managed to catch up with him, he snaked out his arm and wrapped it around your waist, pulling you flush and warm against his side.

You about threw him across the room, but your attempts at a grapple were thwarted by the sudden thrumming of the familiar Neutral Limitless ability, stalling your moments to such a small speed you felt suddenly frozen.

The impulse to toss him passed and instead you let him escort you outside where the car was still waiting.

“Take us to the place, ya know the one.” Gojo said to the driver and in a surprising show of gallantry, actually held the door open for you to get in first.

“And open the back window. If she throws up, I’d rather it be on the pavement.”

You elbowed him in the chest— accidentally of course.

***

The car drive was a bit longer, taking you away from the glitz and glamor of this side of Tokyo and to what looked arguably as one of the most hole-in-the-wall noodle joints you had ever seen. The street kitchen was small, the counter open outside with a few bar stools. The smells of teriyaki and spices and cooking oils were heavy in the air and made your mouth water.

Gojo perched on one of the stools and you came to sit alongside him, watching as he ripped open a set of chopsticks and rubbed the splinters off.

He ordered quickly—yakisoba and yakitori. Along with several packages of mochi they kept behind the counter in the same kinda plastic bags you’d find at a convenience store.

Gojo had been right— you should have slowed down. The world had a light haze to it… a slight tilting. His hand on your back felt massive and overly warm as he guided you back to sitting straight.

“Eat, ya lush.” He ordered, piling noodles and chicken unto a smaller empty plate for you from his own, “C’mon.”

Gojo popped one of the mochi bags and dumped the sticky sweet confection right on top of your yakisoba. You grimaced, picking the sweet off and trying to wipe some of the sauce from it before you took a generous bite.

The food was greasy and delicious and abundant and cheap and your mouth was in heaven. Even having not used your Limitless since yesterday, every taste still felt heightened. Maybe it was the way your cursed powers tried to compensate from the wine, but everything somehow was more delicious.

You attempted to snag another piece of yakitori from Gojo’s plate, only to have your chopsticks blocked with a clack.

“Ah ah ah— hands off.”

“What’s yours is mine, right?” You chided, only to be dodged again in a movement faster than your eyes could perceive. Did he just use his Limitless to counter you? Feeling emboldened, you activated your own, the faint pulse of the energy so close together giving you the sort of deflecting feeling one experiences when holding two sides of the same magnet near together.

Repelling, shifting. Trying to shove the energy into a way that the two forces would collide rather than deflect.

You were concentrating fully. The minuscule movements invisible to even your eyes, but the feeling was there. A sort of blindsight where you didn’t need the Six Eyes to tell you what was happening— but it would have definitely helped. You flicked a glance up and lost your control, your chopsticks shooting away and nearly cracking one in two.

Gojo chuckled. It was the expression on his face that had distracted you. His eyelids were half dropped, his smile soft as he readied himself to deflect you again. Your energy was no match for his… but it matched. It was made of the same stuff. Controlled the same way. He could see, with the sharp clarity of his Six Eyes, every tiny precise movement you made with your cursed energy. A mirror of his own abilities in miniature.

He was playing with you. And all the sudden you felt as if a small knot in your chest had shaken free, the coil coming undone.

Was there anyone else on this Earth you could do such a thing with?

Feeling strange and suddenly shy, you drew your energy back in and refocused on eating from your own plate, grumbling at your loss.

A second later, Gojo’s chopsticks moved over your plate, dropping another helping of noodles in.

A small concession. A victory in it's own right, even if it had not won the yakitori.

“Sober up, will ya? But don’t eat too fast. I’m not cleaning up vomit, no way, no how.”

“You’re always so vulgar.” you murmured, speaking around a mouthful of noodles and mochi. Gojo turned and stuck his tongue out at you. A confirmation or a reprisal, you couldn’t be sure.

But regardless, it did something to you he had never managed to do before.

It made you laugh.

#gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru fanfic #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x oc #gojo satoru #jujutsu kaisen fanfic #jujustu kaisen #help ive fallen into gojo brain rot and cant get up

[hanniiesuckle17]

The Cake

A/n: Sorry this took so long but I'm obsessed with how this turned out. i hope you guys like this little crack fic ahha (this is also not thoroughly edited.)

Requested: @moonlit-han-main

Tag List: @ashisparanoid @mini-meanhoe @leggomylino @hanstagrams @desertofdessert @hoes4hoseok @yangomangos @jeonqqin @geminirules @crscendoforsung @mrsunshine999​ @jisungsjheekies @hannie-squirrel00 @cotccotc​ @kodzu-ken​ @konenichi​ @yangs-jeongin​ @binniebutter​

Warnings: Cussing probably

Word Count: 1.9k

Summary: Being pregnant is stress enough. Having Changbin as the father while quite possibly the greatest thing that has ever happened to Y/n. It was also the most stressful thing that had every happened to Y/n. Prepping for their gender reveal party is a huge ordeal and all the boys are excited to come and help. However, sometimes there are too many cooks in the kitchen.

Genre: comedy, crack, lil romance, fluff, established relationship!au, future parent!au, Fem Reader, Ft.3RACHA

✧

Changbin’s POV

“Jisung, you know Y/n said no alcohol.” 

I sighed seeing my friend carrying an armful of liquor bottles into the kitchen. He laughed less than gently setting them on the island counter. The apartment I shared with Y/n was rather small and the kitchen was basically open to the living room. The clinking of glass bottles had me rolling my eyes. “No. She said no alcohol for her. Duh. She’s pregnant!”

Jisung’s dark fluffy hair fell in front of his doe eyes, but did not hide the impish smile he wore. The door of the apartment swung open to reveal Chan, a square box in hand.

“Is that it?” I asked eagerly as he set the carton down in the kitchen with us. Feeling cramped in the space, Jisung squeezed past us onto the other side of the counter in the living room. 

Chan nodded and flipped open the lid of the carton to reveal a bright white cake. “Just picked it up from the bakery.”

“And he didn’t tell you what color was inside?”

“Do you think I would have walked in that calmly if I knew the gender of your kid?”

I shrugged, listing my head. “Yeah, that checks out.” Swatting Jisung’s hand away I shut the lid keeping him from tasting Y/n and my gender reveal cake. We had been holding off on knowing the gender and both of us were beginning to grow restless with her due date only a few months away. “Chan can you put it on the cake thingy Y/n bought.”

“It has a name.”

“Do you know what it is?” I asked walking to the other side of the counter. Chan stood, eyes blinking at an abnormal pace. “Cake thingy it is then. Y/n will be here in three hours so we have to finish decorating.” The boys nodded and we set to work about putting up the party decorations. 

An hour later the apartment was filled with colorful balloons and cheap streamers. The boys and I stood looking around at our hard work. The cake sat on the counter looking perfect as ever. The living room was bursting with color and the drinks and snacks were laid out and only partially eaten by Jisung.

“Wow. We did it.” Chan said, standing proudly with his hands on his hips surveying our hard work. It was unbelievable that we actually managed to get everything done and looking perfect with so much time to spare. “Where’s Jisung?” 

I shrugged. “I think he said he was putting the broom back in the kitchen.”

“Hey guys, should we put the cake on the table?” 

We turned around to see Jisung holding the beautifully frosted white cake. The cake that was going to tell us the gender of the baby. “Jisung wait-”

“Woah!”

Everything happened in slow motion. Chan and I both lunged forward. We watched in horror as Jisung disappeared below the kitchen island and the cake was thrown up into the air..The delicatable perfect pastry was turning over in the air, gravity pulling it down. 

SPLAT

Chan froze behind me. My hands latched onto the edge of the island counter, anchoring them in place so as not to strangle the nearest squirrel. Jisung slowly stood up facing us, white frosting in his hair. brown hair. Slowly his eyes traveled down to the mess he created. 

“WAIT! DON’T LOOK DOWN!” I screamed holding out my hands to stop him. My friend’s eyes shot up and he looked at the ceiling. “Nobody....look....at the kitchen floor.” 

“Why can’t we-”

“BECAUSE, CHAN.......if the cake is on the floor....we’ll see what color the cake is.”

Hearing this Jisung covered his eyes with his hands. “Fuck. Guys. I’m so sorry. I’m so so sorry. Like I’m really sorry.” 

I sighed rubbing my forehead, a headache beginning. “Jisung quit you’re blubbering. It’s not going to help.” We now had no cake; the literal centerpiece of the entire party. “Y/n will be here in two hours. We need to clean this mess up now.” 

Chan ran a hand through his hair in stress. The man was going to have gray hair before he was thirty. “How are we supposed to clean if we can’t look at the floor?” My eyes fell onto the kitchen counter. A dish rag hung on the edge of the sink.

“I’ve got an idea.” 

✧

My left hand felt blindy around for the edge of the counter. The other pushed a  mop around the kitchen. The kitchen towel was itchy against my eyes, but I would rather keep my eyes in my head than have them end up in Y/n’s purse if I saw the color of the cake. 

A sudden whack to my ass had me yelping and shooting up from my hunched position. “Ow- what the hell?” My ears picked up the sound of a dust pan falling to the floor. 

“Sorry, I was turning around.” 

“Jisung, my ass is reserved for Y/n. Hands off. Dust pans too.”

Chan chuckled not far away from me. These makeshift blindfolds really were a bitch. “That is something I never thought I would ever hear. Don’t say it again.” 

After a few more minutes of sightless fumbling and cleaning, the three of us sighed. “I think we did it.” Jisung mumbled. “Can I take this off now?”

I nodded, despite my friends lack of ability to see. “Okay. Take em off.”

Pulling off the blindfolds, we were met with a horrifying sight. Every inch of my kitchen- of Y/n’s kitchen, was smeared and stained bright blue. Not only was the frosting on the floor, but it was on the cabinets, the counters, even the walls. 

“It’s.......everywhere...” Chan mumbled, staring at the catastrophe. “How did it get everywhere? I thought we cleaned it!” 

Jisung’s eyes widened. His hand clapped onto my shoulder. “Dude! You’re having a boy!” Both Chan and I looked over at him with a pointed stare. “What? Don’t look at me like that. What the fuck did I do?”

“You’re in deep shit.” Chris laughed looking at the cerulean stained tile. 

My eyes widened, turning to my friend. “Nuh uh. We are in deep shit. Jisung is the one that dropped the cake.”

“And how is that my fault?!” 

“I don’t know! You’re the smart one! Fix this!”

The leader ran his long pale hands through his hair. After pacing through the smeared frosting I was beginning to think we were indeed truly fucked. I began to lose hope until I saw an idea pass through Chan’s dark eyes. “You got an idea?” The youngest asked, swiping his finger along the counter and bringing the blue frosting up to his lips. He nodded, determination set on his face. 

“Call Felix.”

✧

A white blonde head of hair pranced through the door seventeen minutes later carrying a bucket with bleach and two bags of groceries. “You called for a miracle?” The boys smiled and looked at the three of us covered in icing. 

“Yeah, Felix, why’d you show up.” Jisung laughed only to be elbowed in the stomach by Chan. 

“Felix....help,” I pleaded. The boy shoved the bucket into Jisung’s arms and peeked into the kitchen looking over the disaster we created. He whistled, brows raising in surprise. “We have an hour and a half. Can you do it?”

His head tilted and a deep chuckle bubbled up in his chest. “Of course I can.” the boys and I let out a sigh of relief. “Chan, you and father-to-be deep clean the kitchen. Jisung, you and I will take care of the cake.” We all just stared at Felix as he barked out orders. “LET’S MOVE BOYS! LET’S GO, GO, GO!”

Scrambling, the four of us raced to fix the calamity before Y/n could come home and ever find out that we not only found out the gender of our child early, but quite possibly permanently stained her nice kitchen turquoise. 

The short time we had soon fizzled into nothing and the sound of keys turning in the lock of the front door had every  body in the apartment rushing to cover up the last bits of our mishap. 

Y/n walked in with a smile. The four of us rushed to appear as if nothing had ever happened. Chan launched himself onto the couch. Jisung admired one of our one posters that was hanging framed in the living room. Felix pretended to be inspecting our Vitamix that he gave us last Christmas as he always did when he came over to see if it had been used yet. 

I greet her with a hug, kissing her cheek. “Hi, Binnie!” Pulling away she looked around the apartment at the boys who were less than nonchalant, her eyes particularly falling on Jisung. Felix waved to her from the kitchen. “Oh- Lix! I thought you weren’t coming until the party started?” 

“I was in the neighborhood and thought I’d...drop...by.” He smirked and I glared at him from behind my pregnant fiancee. 

“Well, you’re always welcome!” She looked around the at the decorations and we all held our breath as she entered the kitchen. Y/n’s eyes lit up as her eyes landed on the cake. It looked almost exactly like the one Jisung had dropped only hours before. “Is this the cake? It looks so good! No one peeked right?” 

“No, no.”

“Not me.”

“I don’t even know what a cake is.”

“We would never.”

Giving us all weird eyes, Y/n chuckled and put a glass cover over the cake display. “The party will start soon. Thank you guys so much for helping out!” Letting loose a shaky breath I watched her wander into the bedroom to change for the soon coming party. 

“I think we got away with it guys. Not a word.”

✧

The party was in full swing. Friends and family mingled in our apartment and gifts for the baby and us were being stacked by the door. Chan was on Jisung detail keeping him far away from Cake 2.0. 

“Hey, everyone, it’s time to cut the cake!” The crowd cheered and gather around Y/n and I as we stood behind the cake Felix made with the minuscule help from Jisung. Nervously, I handed Y/n the knife and cast a wary glance towards the four other boys who were obviously sweating. The blade cut through the airy confection with ease.

“Ummm......Changbin.....”

“Yes?”

Her brows rose and she dumped the cut piece of cake on a plate. “Do you mind telling me why this cake has green filling, babe?” Y/n watched me blink, completely frozen in place. “Is there an alien or Shrek growing in my belly? Changbin what the hell?”

Out of the corner of my eye I saw Felix slap Jisung upside the head. “What did you do? I gave you the food coloring!” He whispered clearing exasperated. 

“I put it in the cake mix, just like you said!” 

Felix groaned and held his head in his hands. “Dude! I told you to put the coloring in the whipped filling! That was yellow cake batter! You mix blue and yellow you get fucking green! You made Changbin have a Shrek baby!”

The two continued to bicker while Y/n turned to me with a furious look in her eyes. “What did you do....”

“Jisungdroppedthecakeitwasn’tmyfaultthenweallputonblindfoldssowewouldn’tseewhatcoloritwasonthefloorandthefrostinggoteverywheresowecalledFelixandhewaslikethebleachfairyandheandJisungmadeanothercakeandI’msosorrybabyIloveyou.” I sputtered at top speed. 

She just blinked, trying to process my words. “I don’t even know...how to even comphrend what’s going on. Honestly at this point I’m not even sure I’m not growing a Shrek in my belly.”

I smiled leaning down and kissing Y/n’s soft lips. “No,” She looked up at me with soft eyes, anger slowly leaving. “That’s our son.” 

“He still might turn out to be Shrek.”

“Shut up, Jisung.”

✧

Masterlist

#stray kids imagines #skzwriternet #stayracha #stray kids masterlist #stray kids angst #stray kids scenarios #seo changbin imagines #seo changbin oneshot #seo changbin imagine #seo changbin smut #seo changbin #seo changbin au imagines #seo changbin fluff #changbin imagines #changbin imagine #changbin fluff #3racha imagine #stray kids #stray kids au imagine #stray kids au imagines #stray kids college au #stray kids incorrect quotes #stray kids reactions #stray kids social media au #stray kids smau #stray kids soulmate au #stray kids single parent au #rubber ducky you're the one #seo changbin single dad #sf9 imagines

[yeojaa]

ANGELS & AIRWAVES (w. jjk)

He's never met you but you know how he sounds when he wakes up from a nap and his greatest fears.  You know the way he sings after a shower and that he could be mistaken for a dying seal when he's laughing too hard.  The best part?  You don't judge him for any of it - including the fact he's a filthy Widow main.  He might just love you.

alt summary.  Jeon Jungkook has a big fat crush on a girl he's never met.

pairing.  jeon jungkook

genre + rating.  fluffy crack, smut.  explicit.

warning / tags.  long-distance relationship, crushes, canon compliant (ish),  eventual happy ending, gaming, gamer!jungkook, strangers to lovers, friends to lovers, overwatch, oral (f receiving), fingering, enough sweetness you’ll get cavities. 

reading.   n/a.  a three part one-shot.

word count.  ~8400

part iii.

JUNGKOOK’S HOTEL ROOM Sunday, 3 May, 2020.  12:20 AM (LA), 4:20 PM (Seoul).

There’s nothing quite like the feeling after a show.  How it crowds cavities behind his molars and sets his heart off on a marathon, exhilaration colouring his cheeks and stealing his voice.  It’s something he’ll never get tired of - all the best parts of this journey presented on a silver platter. 

Still, he thinks talking to you might be a close second.  

“I can’t understand a single thing you’re saying,”  you chide, playfully, with a mouthful of granola.  It crunch crunch crunches in his ears, blocking the sound of his own laughter, ringing and half out of breath.

“I said I’m sorry.  I’ve been so busy.  Things have just been—”  Crazy?  Out of this world?  Some kind of wonderful?  “—hectic.”  He all but throws himself across his bed, the luxurious hotel sheets soft against his still overheated cheek.  It feels nice but steals the strength of his voice, muffling his words as he continues, like a runaway train with no destination in mind. 

You laugh at him as you always do, mirth sprinkled over teasing like little treasures to be found among the vowels and consonants.  “It’s fine , Jay.”  The name - not his name - rolls off your tongue, dragged out by the giggles you can’t help.  “I know you’re a busy guy.  Don’t worry about it.”

Easier said than done, Jungkook thinks.  You’ve been on his mind every day, in between the practices and the performances.  A silhouette shaped like you - not that he knows how you’re shaped - existing in the recesses of his thoughts. 

“Anyway, I finally stopped losing SR so it’s not all bad...”

He doesn’t register what you’re saying.  Not at first, anyway.  But when he does?  He’s belligerent, the loudest shriek rocketing out of his chest as he dissolves into laughter.  So you were a little bit better than him.  “Hey!”

“Hey yourself, sandbag.”  

Your mockery shouldn’t have the dumbest smile spreading like wildfire but it does, the expression eating up every ounce of his exhausted self.  He can’t fight it, glee working itself every which way until he’s on his back, staring up at the ceiling as his jaw aches.  

“You’re mean,”  he manages in between the teeth-numbing joy, chest heaving.

He’s certain you don’t mean it the way he takes it.  “And yet you love it.”  

God, if only you knew.

He wants to tell you so badly - wants to shout it from the rooftops until he’s blue in the face and without a voice.  He thinks he’d have a chance, maybe, if your passed secrets at midnight and tender goodnights were any indication.

But he can’t, because he’s him and you’re, well, you, and really, it’s just his fault.

“Did you die?”  You steal him out of his reverie, tearing him wholly from inside that overthinking head of his.  It’s one of the things you’re best at (other than keeping him alive in Overwatch).

He sighs and it’s a wistful sound, softer than any other that’s passed between you since getting on the phone fifteen minutes ago.  “I’m good, yeah.  I’m fine.”

“You sure?  I thought I might’ve lost you for a second.”

The playfulness has returned, rounding syllables in a way that’s very distinctly you.  

“Yes, Mom .”  

“Watch it or you’re grounded, young man!” 

“Do you even know how old I am?”  Probably not, because he doesn’t know that about you either.  

For all of the secrets you’ve shared, these very basic pieces of information are ones you’ve never exchanged.  They’ve always been held tightly to the chest, held hostage behind sharp gates of enamel. There was too much at stake when it came to these identifiers.

Sure, you’d told him about your greatest fear - losing one of your parents without being able to say goodbye - and sure, he’d told you his - not being good enough and letting the people he loves down even when he’s trying as hard as he can - but your ages?  Where you grew up?  Your real names?  That was out of the question.

“Are you about to tell me you’re sixteen?  Have I been friends with a high school student this whole time?”  You’re chuckling at your own genius.  He really doesn't think you’re that funny - low hanging fruit and all that - but he likes the way it sounds, curling out of your mouth like smoke.

“I’m actually twelve .  Geez, get it right.”

You gasp, scandalized and as if you really believe him.  It makes him choke on his own spit and he has to roll over onto his stomach, effectively trapping his phone between his chest and the bed as he struggles to regulate his breathing. 

“I’ve always wanted a little brother!”  

It’s a joke.  Obviously , it’s a joke.  He shouldn’t take it seriously.

And yet he’s fueled with the need to rebuff it, speaking before he has a chance to stop it, the words coming in a flurry.  It’s a verbal snowstorm, locking the conversation in place - like Mei’s ultimate except he’s trapped in it, too.  “I have something to tell you.”  There’s no going back now.

For once, you’re not tearing holes in his confidence - not that you ever do with any sort of animosity.  Your relationship was equal parts give and take, honey and vinegar coexisting in perfect harmony.

When Jungkook doesn’t immediately continue, you give him a little push.  “Spit it out, Jay.”

“My name isn’t Jay.”  A small, insecure part of him worries that that’s enough to shatter the careful friendship you’ve crafted.  You - Jinny, the ineffable - remain surprisingly silent.  He’s not sure whether that’s encouraging or disheartening.  “I… haven’t really been honest with you.”

Already he can feel the nervous energy in his limbs, anxiety replacing the high he’d been on only an hour ago.

“I’m…”  How does he start?  “I’m not just… some guy.”  Okay, that sounds bad.  He’s backtracking.  “I mean, I’m a guy.  I’m normal.”  This is going so poorly.  His breath catches in his throat, teeth worrying incessantly over the soft cherry Chapsticked contour of his bottom lip.  “I’m just not, y’know, your average guy.  I’m actually like, uh...”  

Jungkook has never stuttered this much in his entire goddamn life.

“My name’s Jeon Jungkook and I’m the golden maknae of Bangtan Sonyeondan.”

It comes in such a rush that you probably don’t hear it clearly.  He’s introduced himself this same way for over half a decade and even it sounds strange to his ears.  

When you don’t respond after what feels like an eternity, he’s left to his own devices, filling the silence with the erratic beating of his heart. 

“Jinny?”  It comes smaller than he means it to, uncertain and filled with hesitation.  Still, nothing.  He wants to toss himself off the 37th floor balcony so he doesn’t have to feel this way.  “Can you say something?”

Your voice is far more measured than his own.  You’re trying to be serious, he thinks.  “I… kind of - sort of - already knew?” 

Well, he hadn’t expected that.

“What?”

“I mean, the other members don’t exactly knock before they barge into your room screaming your name.”  A beat.  He can hear the laughter that’s threatening to knock your words into submission.  “ And you posted a cover of a song I sent you.”  

Dammit.  Dammit dammit dammit .

That was definitely his fault.  It’d just been so good - living in his head and in his heart rent-free. “ Never Not’s a good song!”  He retorts, like that’s an appropriate rebuttal.

“I know, doofus.”  

“You’re the doofus!”

The two of you were back, glazing over the revelation like it was nothing more than a little bump in the road.

“Thank you for telling me, though.”  He imagines you’re smiling - can practically hear it in your voice.  Somehow, it feels different.  Sunnier than usual, blinding in its intensity.  “I wasn’t sure if you ever would.”

“Would you have been mad if I didn’t?”  Though he asks, he’s not sure if he’s ready for the answer.

“Of course not.”  

“Really?”

You’re only a little exasperated when you reassure him.  “Of course not.  You’re still you - no matter what you do.”

Whatever best case scenario he’d imagined doesn’t hold a candle to this.  He’s a million miles over the moon.  You must be able to tell because he can hear you stifling sound, trails of laughter buzzing around in his ears like hummingbirds.  

“So, what now?”

“What do you mean ‘what now’ ?  Didn’t you hear what I just said?”  There’s no venom in your words.  “You’re still you, Jay.”

“It’s Jungkook.”  There’s that unabashed need to hear his name.  He hopes it isn’t too obvious.

“I know but that’s gonna be hard to get used to.” 

“Is your real name Jinny?”  He’s always wondered.

“It’s Yoojin.  Jinny’s just my nickname.”  

“Well, Jinny—”  He says it dragged out and silly.  “—want to come to one of our shows?”

“I live in Seoul.”

“So what?”

The second time sounds exactly like the first.  He snorts.  “I live in Seoul .”  

"I’ll fly you to Osaka.”

It’s the first time he’s heard you genuinely shocked.  It strips the usual mischief from your tone, draping it in lily white and baby’s breath.  “You don’t have to do that.”

“I want to.”  He doesn’t think he’s wanted anything more.  At least, not in a very long time.

“Thanks, Jungkook.”

It sounds better than he could have ever imagined.

KYOCERA DOME OSAKA Thursday, 23 July, 2020.  10 PM.

Does he smell bad?  Should he have showered first?  Would you be grossed out?

These are all the thoughts running through his mind, chasing themselves in circles like a dog after its own tail.  They revolve in a neverending merry-go-round, creasing worry into his brow and dropping his mouth into a little O-shaped pout.

“You ready, Jungkookie?”  Jimin’s doing what he does best - draping himself across his maknae’s shoulders without a care in the world.  

“Are you nervous?”  Hobi’s swiping through his phone, dark hair a stylishly dishevelled mess around his angelic face.  He’s still got traces of makeup around his eyes and his clip-on earrings glint under fluorescent light.  

A hand lands hard on his shoulder, fingers digging into the muscle in a way that’s meant to be reassuring.  “Of course he is.”  Namjoon can read him like a book, shooting Jungkook his signature smile in the same instance he receives one.

“I’m not nervous!”  The youngest chirps in a voice that warbles like a baby bird.

Everyone laughs at that and he can feel his ears burning around the edge of his baseball cap. It creeps over the shell and down his neck, descending blossoms of colour into the collar of his shirt.  

“Shouldn’t you get going?”  It’s Yoongi that reminds him of the time, the rapper only barely cracking an eye open as he taps the face of his steel-cased Audemars Piguet.  He’s right.

Jungkook jolts out of his seat, scrambling to his feet - all four thousand dollars of his designer boots - and nearly knocks Jimin off the back of the couch he’d been precariously balanced on.  The overeager bunny shouts an apology that’s lost amongst even louder laughter as he tears out of the room. 

He’s going to be late .

He doesn’t think he’s ever ran so fast in his life - darting past bicycling seniors and tourists with all the grace of a boy in love.  He somehow manages to find the entrance of the BIC CAMERA store without much hassle, rooting himself just left of the door when his phone screen registers 10:30 PM.

A little triumphant whoop! presses into the sponge-like material of his facemask in the same moment he catches sight of a waving hand.

He’s not sure whether it’s the mask or the sight of you that’s making it hard to breathe.

“Hi.”  You sound exactly like you always have and yet six months of hearing your voice somehow doesn't prepare him for it.  It hits him like a ton of bricks, crashing his resolve into the soles of his feet.  There’s something about you that makes him squint - like staring directly at the sun.  His heart stutters in his chest.  He thinks, dimly, he can hear bells in the distance.  It’s probably from a food stall, but he doesn’t care.  

It’s the first meeting he’s always dreamed of, wrapped up in an adorable pink Cooky headband. 

He’s scooping you into his arms before he can think better of it, twirling you around like the princess you are.  It probably isn’t appropriate - you’ve only just met - but he can’t resist.  You feel so good in his arms, weightless and yet entirely grounding.  

The fact that you’ve wrapped your arms around his neck, easily reciprocating his onslaught of affection, doesn't go unnoticed.  He tucks away this knowledge into the sleeve of his shirt for safekeeping.  

“I’m so sorry,”  he says, though he doesn’t sound very sorry at all.  You’re back on your two feet, black military boots of your own on solid ground once again.  

Standing so close, he can smell your perfume.  Its notes of vanilla and cola and something powdery, reminiscent of babies and home.  You’re smaller than he imagined, with narrow shoulders and wide hips.  Like him, you look to be about 95% leg, faded blue denim hugging your thighs and falling loosely around the tops of your Doc Martens. Your top is long-sleeved but semi-sheer and he can make out what he thinks are inkings over your skin, little trails in greyscale and colour that draw his stare.

Stop being weird , he tells himself when he finally manages to refocus, tearing his gaze from the jasmine branches that traverse your limbs and training it on your eyes instead.

Bad idea, Jungkook.

He’s lost in the colour of your irises - an impossibly dark brown that twinkles under the awning lights - and the heart-shaped turn of your jaw.  He’s all too distracted by the high contours of your cheeks, the turn of your button nose, the dusty pink that fills the shape of your mouth and fades prettily against your skin. 

“You look like you’re about to pass out.”  The way your lips move should be a chargeable offence.  They coax into a smirk that’s equal parts soft and vexing, singular dimple presenting itself with the motion.

God, he’s so in over his head.  He can feel it in his bones.

So he laughs - because that’s what he does when he’s unnerved - and the sound is a pack of hyenas.  It’s Lion King on Broadway, sweeping above the already boisterous cacophony of the entertainment district. 

“Your laugh is even better in person.”  You’ve said better and not worse and even though he’s a little self-conscious - a decidedly not Jungkook-like thing to be - he preens from the praise.  

“Yeah?”  Can you see the hearts in his eyes?  He imagines they’ve replaced his pupils. 

“Yeah.  But don’t let that get to your head, mister.” 

“Already has - sorry.”  

You laugh in sync and it’s music to his ears - the prettiest sound he’s ever heard. 

The two of you fall into your routine in a way that feels effortless, the back and forth banter rivalling that of best friends.  

You tease him mercilessly, picking up on all his little idiosyncrasies - how he stands at stop lights, pigeon-toed and adorable; how he jams his hands into the back pocket of his jeans in tandem with the tips of his ears burning bright red;  how his laugh sometimes trips over itself and splinters like a kid going through puberty.  He doesn’t mind any of it, truthfully, because it means you’re paying attention to him just as much as he is you.

Because he sees all of your little habits too - watches them unfold before his eyes in technicolour.  You bite your own lip when you think you’ve said something particularly funny.  You wiggle your head on your shoulders like a bobblehead when he says something snappy, equally biting remarks softened by the way you bob up and down.  You don’t step on cracks, even if it means you’re straining those strangely long legs of yours to carry yourself a few inches further.  

You don’t have any patience - something he’s known since the beginning - but that he realizes with a front row seat when you’re shoving a takoyaki into his face.  There’s steam curling off it and the smell is intoxicating but he can practically feel the roof of his mouth burning when you’re relentlessly offering it to him.  You’re not even deterred by the fact that he’s got a facemask on. 

“Open up!”  

Jungkook wants to say no - should say no, for the sake of his own health - but he accepts it anyway.

It sears white hot pain the moment it lands on his tongue, teeth buzzing uncomfortably as he bites into the dough.  He’s sucking air in through his teeth, the cold barely doing anything to alleviate the sting.  He probably looks stupid as hell.  

Of course, you’re laughing at him, lips curled in on themselves as you try to choke back the sound. 

“Too hot?”  You coo, feigning surprise.  You do feel a little bad - he can see it in the flex of your jaw, how your bamboo stick-wielding hand lingers in the space between you.  “My bad.”

He chews once, twice - tries to keep it to a minimum because holy shit , does it hurt - before swallowing.  It burns on the way down.  “You eat one now.”  He’s pushing the tray towards you, long fingers curled around yours as he all but tries to make you face plant into the plate.  

“I don’t like squid,”  you deadpan, lying through those neat white teeth of yours.  You’d literally made takoyaki at home a few weeks ago.  He’d dared you to put an entire wasabi ball into one and you’d done it.  

“Shut up.” 

“You shut up!”

So it goes for the rest of the night, trading insults over street food.  You share an ice cream-filled melon pan - well, he orders one and you eat all of it but a bite - and you scroll through your phone as he inhales a bowl of ramen.  He catches you taking a picture of him when he’s halfway through slurping noodles into his mouth like a Hoover.  You look a little sheepish when he swallows and levels you with a look that screams unimpressed.

“Is this okay?”  You’re a little uncertain and it’s the cutest thing he’s seen all night, teeth catching your bottom lip.  He wonders, briefly, what it’d be like to do that to you instead.

You beam when he reassures you.  “Of course.” 

“I won’t post it anywhere.”  

He wants to tell you that’s okay, too, but he knows he shouldn’t.  Instead, he simply returns your smile and goes about finishing his bowl of broth.  You take a few more photos - of his face when he’s full-belied and satisfied, of the street where people mingle and mix, of the stupidly big moving crab sign across the way.

He wonders if you can feel it too - the connection that crackles between you like a livewire. 

“Thank you for bringing me here,”  you return your attention to him in the same instant he’s glossing over the shape of your lips, the turn of your nose.  “I’ll pay you back.”

Before he realizes what’s happening, your hand is on his.  You don’t do very much, simply allowing your palm to rest over his, fingers curled around the seam of his thumb.  It’s so much smaller - complete with neatly manicured lilac nails - that he stares down at it for a beat too long.  

You start to pull away - he sees it happening almost in slow motion - when he flips his own, catching your wrist in his grasp.  “No need,”  he mumbles, not quite looking at you.  He’s still too focused on the way your hands fit together like two puzzle pieces. 

“We’ll see about that,”  you return, equally as soft.  

Everything feels a little fuzzy, like you’re wrapped up in cotton candy and cloud nine.  

You must feel it too.

But then you’re standing and you’re not holding his hand any longer and he thinks maybe he’s imagining it all over again.  It leaves him heartsick, reaching for your figure that’s already too far away.  

“We should head back - I have an early flight tomorrow.”

Damn him and his poor planning skills.  He should’ve booked you something later in the day.  Why had he thought the 9 AM departure was the best idea? 

“Right.”  He lifts himself off of the wooden bench, returning his facemask to its rightful place as he closes the distance between you in four easy strides.  He tries to ignore the way you smile at him when you’re back together, matching pace through the somehow still-packed streets.

There’s no playful ribbing now.  The schoolyard mockery is replaced with a comfortable silence that sinks into his bones and brushes his hand against yours every time you have to squeeze past a gaggle of people that just won’t move.  It’s familiar without being boring, satisfying the big fat crush that lives in his heart. 

It settles even further when you do the same, head gentle against the curve of his shoulder.  

“Did you have fun?”  He finally asks when the familiar silhouette of the Conrad Hotel comes into view, your driver rolling to a complete stop right in front of the impressive glass structure.

You hum something that sounds like yes as he pays and thanks the driver in the softest Japanese before he ushers you out of the back of the cab.  You’re smiling at him, heavy-lidded and with a tenderness he doesn’t expect.  You must be tired.

“More than I’ve ever had.”  There’s a certain truth to your words, whether it’s from your sleepy state or something else.  “I can’t thank you enough.”

“You don’t have to,”  he reminds you, guiding you past the concierge with a palm on the small of your back.  It’s intimate in a way he’s not really sure is appropriate but you don’t seem to mind, all too happy to be herded around like a baby duckling.

“Stop saying that.”  There’s no weight behind your words - only sandman’s dust and starry-eyed affection.  Jungkook’s heart plays a staccato rhythm in his chest as he steps into the lift behind you, crowded against the far right wall.  Mozart would be proud. 

Trapped in the small six by six area, his breath seems too loud.  The roar of his pulse in his ears is deafening.  He barely hears his own words when they stumble out of their own accord.  

“I like you.”

Your laugh is the sweetest he’s ever heard.  “I know.”  

“You do?”  He rounds on you in the same breath, your body mirroring his subconsciously.

“Of course I do.”  You’re so confident he absorbs a little bit of it, stepping closer when you do. “I’m your safe place - and you’re mine, too.”

His hands are shaking when they crowd your face, thumbs gentle over the jut of your chin.  “Can I kiss you?”  Spoken like a child asking for a Christmas gift, full of wonder and hope.  

“Hm.”  The vibration of your sigh is felt through his fingers all the way down to his toes.

He decides for you, closing the distance with a roll of his shoulders.  

Kissing you is unlike anything he could’ve ever imagined.  It’s better than his wildest dreams.  It’s soft and sweet and done with the utmost care, like you’ll break if he isn’t careful.  You taste as good as you smell - the citrusy tang of your lip gloss reminding him of Lotte World lemonade and picnics on the Han River. 

“I’m sorry.”  It’s an unnecessary apology that gets lost against your lips - because he isn’t quite ready to let go of you yet.  “I couldn’t help it.”

“You’re forgiven, I guess .”  

When you speak, it’s kissing in its most basic form, mouth brushing over his with each enunciation.  He wonders what it’d be like to have you sing a song for him like this.  He decides he wants to find out as soon as possible.  Needs it like he needs air - or more of you.  Either or.

“Thanks.”  

You laugh together and kiss again and again, repeating the motion like overeager high school students behind the bleachers.  He grazes your forehead, pressing sweetness into the tops of your eyelids and you return the favour, sweeping delight over the sharp turn of his jaw and over skin not hidden by the collar of his button-down. 

You’re so involved that you hardly notice when the lift doors slide open, revealing the empty hallway of the 33rd floor.  You break away first, though it’s not without some resistance - both his and yours.  He wants to keep you here with him as long as he can, because it feels like where you belong .

“I’ll see you.”  A last kiss - lingering, longing, littered with words neither of you say.

And then you’re gone.  

JINNY’S APARTMENT Saturday, 5 September, 2020.  2:45 PM.

You live in a nondescript apartment in a nondescript neighbourhood with trimmed hedges and a crisp white exterior.  There’s a doormat - grey, a little frayed at the edges, polka-dotted - and nothing else.  No sign on your door, just the number 134 stamped on the right-hand side, half a foot away from the window that looks into the open-air hallway.  

You answer the door on the first knock, bright-eyed and bushy-tailed like you’d been lingering just behind the frame, waiting for his arrival.  Your hair’s shiny and freshly washed, damp at the ends where you haven’t wicked all the moisture away.  You look comfortable - if not a little overexcited - bouncing from sock-clad foot to sock-clad foot in your low slung sweatpants and oversized tee shirt. He can see half a dozen plants just behind your bobbing head, his gaze bouncing between pretty ceramic and terracotta pots.

“I half expected you to live in a PC bang,”  Jungkook states, drole and with that trademark grin of his, nose scrunched and eyes waning.

You counter him easily.  “You haven’t even been inside.  Maybe it’s all a front.”

He snickers at the thought, stepping over the threshold once you’ve taken a step back.  It smells like cinnamon and sugar - he wonders if you’ve been baking - and he peers curiously around the apartment.  

“It’s a candle,”  you supply before he has a chance to ask, reading the question in his stare.  

“You mean you didn’t bake me a cake?”  

You offer an extended scoff in place of an answer, rolling your eyes as he unlaces his boots.  “What for?  Your birthday’s already passed.”

“It might not have.”

“It literally has.  I know your birthday.”

Right.  Because he’s him and that’s sort of common knowledge. 

He chuckles to himself as he sets his boots aside, right beside where yours sit, near identical.  He doesn’t need to say anything when he hears you sniff, Rilakkuma-tipped sock nudging his hand away from where it threatens to upend the piece of footwear. 

“I had them before I met you.” 

“Right.”  It’s too easy to tease you - just as it’s too easy to rib him.  This is how the two of you are.  Schoolchildren with big crushes and near zero emotional maturity. 

“Do you want a tour or are you just gonna be some weirdo with a foot fetish?” 

He meets your stare then, both of your expressions ice cold.  If looks could kill .

You crack before he does, though your laughter melds together like a perfect harmony, ricocheting off the art-covered walls.  

“Fine, fine.  Show me around.”

So you do - with gusto and great pride.  It rolls off you in waves, tangible in the cascade of your hair over your shoulder and the way you beam up at him.  You’re like a kid at show-and-tell.

You guide him into the living area - a small space with a comfortable, worn-in grey couch and probably more throw pillows and blankets than is strictly speaking necessary.  There are framed pieces on the wall and it’s the contents that surprise him.  There’s Mercy playing pool, bent over the table in a revealing Playboy bunny one piece;  there’s D.Va in a hoodie and little else, bottles of soju littering both the back and foreground. 

Where the walls are bare, there’s other stuff taking up the space.  Artfully positioned floating shelves house succulents and cacti.  A well-cared for Monstera sits in a far corner, taking up more space than it probably should.  Nestled among its soil are little Animal Crossing Amiibos - Cyrus and Reese, to be exact.  There’s an all-white cabinet with a glass front and some of the most random stuff he’s ever seen:  limited edition Gunpla, a Taiko Drum, and your framed university degree (for accounting, to his great surprise). 

“Is that a Widow bobblehead?”  He spies it last, sitting on the cabinet that houses an impressive array of gaming consoles.  You even have a VR headset, the cords neatly looped together and tucked away beside a maneki neko-shaped piggy bank. 

“Maybe.” 

“You really are a dork.”

“Says the bigger dork?  Really?” 

He could dispute that - easily - but he doesn’t, instead shrugging it off as he flops onto the couch, feet immediately kicking themselves up. 

“What’re you doing?”  You join him even as you ask.  He’s a little disappointed by the polite amount of space you leave - just enough that you’re not touching.  

“I’m tired.”

“I haven’t finished the tour.”

“Tour schmore .”  

You scowl at him and it’s so charming that he wishes you were just a little closer.  He’d kiss that look right off your face if it were up to him.

“What do you want to do then?”  Where the stuffed animal comes from, he’s not sure.  It’s more than a little ratty, soft brown fur faded from what looks like years and years of love.  You hold it tight, clutched to your chest as you recline against the far arm. 

“Watch the Runaway and Lunatic-Hai show matches?” 

You level him with a look that very much tells him he is the bigger nerd.  He doesn’t mind, though.  He’s been wanting to watch these matches for months since it was first announced.  

Unfortunately, you’d promised each other you’d only watch it together, so really, this was your fault.

You must suddenly remember that, because you’re biting back the words he’s sure were about to tear into him, swallowing them whole as you grab your PS4 controller and begin silently navigating through YouTube.  He smiles, a little triumphant thing he knows you can see from the corner of your eye.

“Happy?”  Resentment mixes with excitement as you return your controller to its rightful home and settle yourself once more against the too-many pillows. 

“No.”  Jungkook worries for your neck when you whip to look at him, brow furrowed and mouth blown out in a pout.  

“Why not?”  

He memorizes the way you look right now, framed against sunlight that spills through your windows and hugging what he assumes is your childhood teddy bear.  It’s an immediate serotonin boost.

“Because you’re all the way over there.”  He sighs, long and loud, head swinging in a dramatic semi-circle.  He can hear you snickering despite yourself - could pick it out in a crowd of thousands, he thinks - and suddenly you’re beside him, distance closed in a heartbeat.

With you so close, it’s hard to think, his thoughts jumbled and tripping over themselves. 

“Better?”  You must know the effect you have on him, because you’re batting those goddamn eyelashes up at him, mouth dancing around his favourite sound in the world. 

“Much,”  he hums, unashamed.  

“Welcome home, Kook.”  The way you say it sparks fireworks in his chest.  He knows you mean home as in the city of Seoul, but it feels like more and he likes that - just like how he likes you and this little piece of normalcy.

It feels good to be here with you, seemingly without a care in the world.  

It’s distinctly different from anything he’s used to - even better than the long hours spent bonding on the internet.  There’s no worry here, no nagging in the back of his mind, no concern that one of his hyungs will burst into his room.  It’s just you and him and commentary on his favourite game. 

That is, until it’s just him and commentary on his favourite game.  He’d lost you somewhere along the way, roughly three hours in.  He hadn’t noticed at first, far too focused on the big brain plays unravelling across the screen, but when you started snoring, he knew. 

You just snored so damn loudly.

“Jinny.”  He feels bad when he has to rouse you, the feeling in his right leg but a distant memory.  

You don’t move.  He wonders when the last time you slept was. 

“Jinny,”  he repeats himself, a little louder this time.  There’s the beginning of stirrings, your head drifting from its position on his shoulder to nestle into the crease of the couch cushions.  “Do you want me to take you to bed?”  

It doesn’t immediately dawn on Jungkook how that sounds.

“Wouldn’t you like that,”  you mumble into the woven fabric, half-asleep.

“What?”  

“Nothing, nothing.”  You’re doing that thing you do when you’re impressed with yourself, teeth littering your bottom lip with indentations.  It’s more distracting than it should be, paired with those bedroom eyes he’s not certain you’re in control of. 

Get it together , he scolds himself.  In his mind, the angel powerbombs the devil into submission.

“Do you want to go to bed?”

“No!  Not yet.”  You’re waving a boneless wrist in his direction, like you’re swatting away an irksome fly.  It’s cute, in a frazzled sort of way.  

“You want to sleep out here?”  He knows you don’t - you’ve complained about it enough times when you wake up with kinks in your neck and soreness in your back.  

“No!”  A huff puffs out your cheeks, blows your grown-out bangs away from your face.  You’re sitting up now, slowly but surely.  There are creases all over your face - an ode to the couch.  He has to keep from laughing right at you - bites it back with a bitten tongue when you sniff and card a hand over through your hair.  “I have a gift for you.”  

You say it so sweetly, he can’t help himself.  

“Is it you?”

He’s honestly not sure what to expect once he’s spoken.  He half thinks you’ll laugh, shove him away from you with a giggle and a roll of your eyes.  He hopes you won’t, though - can feel every fibre of his being strung tight with anticipation and hope and the request of please, love me .

“Do you want it to be?”  You’re looking at him with the strangest expression.  He can’t read it at all, despite how easily he normally does.  It’s white noise, static on a television screen.

Uncertainty grips him.  “I do.”  

“Then I’m yours.”

It’s music to his ears - the key to his heart.  It strips away the doubt, turning it on its head.  

He finally does what he’s wanted to for the past four hours.  

When he kisses you this time, it’s different.  It’s urgent but not rushed;  he takes his time in exploring the softness of your lips, how they fall open under his careful ministrations.  His mouth slants, coaxes you to give everything to him as his tongue passes tentatively over yours.  You taste like lemons again - and a touch of honey.

It’s intoxicating and addictive and he chases the high it gives him, large hands finding purchase against the back of your head and the slope of your jaw.  Fingers thread through your hair - gentle at first, then with more purpose.  He maneuvers you how he needs you and peppers kisses everywhere he can reach.  Your eyelids, your nose, your neck.  

When he ghosts his mouth across your shoulder - mouthing hot over the soft cotton of your shirt - and finds that particular point where your pulse beats, you gasp.

He’d thought your laugh was his favourite sound but he realizes now how wrong he was.

“Do that again.”  You say it together, in perfect sync.

Laughter blooms between you and he muffles his against your throat, nosing over where your perfume lingers most.  He inhales once, twice, and holds you somehow closer, all but dragging you into his lap.  “You’re my dream girl, you know that?”  The words are surprisingly sweet, given the compromising position you’re currently in. 

“You’re not too bad yourself.”  You thread your fingers just as he has, twirling through his just-on-the-right-side-of-too-long strands. 

He moves to pull away, a scoff building in his throat, but you’re having none of it, capturing his lips the moment he’s made up his mind.  You really could read him like a book.  He wonders what you’re thinking now, starts running through possibilities when you bite down just so on his pouting bottom lip.  

A not-so-subtle hint to get out of his own head.

“Stop thinking,”  you hum, lending your voice to his thoughts.

“Sorry,”  he returns in kind, tracing an apologetic tongue over the seam of your lips.  

“Show me how sorry.”  

You sound positively sinful and while it isn’t the answer he’d expected, it stirs something within him - from his chest to somewhere decidedly further south.  He stifles a moan, caging it behind bared teeth as he becomes suddenly far too aware of how you’re making him feel.

“You’re playing with fire, baby.”  The pet name rolls off his tongue like it was made for you. 

“It’s fine - I have self-healing.”

It’s so fucking dorky but somehow, even that makes Jungkook groan.  “Seriously - dream girl.”  

And then he’s kissing you again and again, a devoted parishioner of your church.  They’re this-side of innocent at first, little pecks that dot every sliver of available flesh.  His hands roam in tandem with his mouth, flitting beneath the cropped hem of your top before gliding greedily across the tops of your thighs.  

“Can I get the rest of the tour now?”  He looks like the devil himself, all dishevelled dark hair and that heart-wrenching, lopsided smile. 

You’re impatient though - always have been.  “Straight down the hall.  Last door to the left.”

It’s all he needs to know before he’s on his feet, rising with you as if you were featherlight.  Your ankles lock around his waist, clinging to him like the cutest koala he’s ever seen.  He doesn’t look away - frankly, can’t – as he follows your directions, gaze trained on your eyes and your lips and the column of your throat he wants to see blooming with roses.

“I’m crazy about you,”  he announces, suddenly, as he nudges open your bedroom door.

“I know.”  You say it a lot.  He wonders if you really know. 

By the way you kiss him, he thinks you might have an idea.  It’s not enough, though.  He wants to show you - needs to show you. 

You allow yourself to be tossed upon your bed - soft grey sheets, no stuffed animals in sight, too many pillows again - and he hovers above you, curious.  “Are you sure you know?”  The question is punctuated by the drop of his knee, cotton of his black joggers a stark contrast to the soft linens.

You’re not sure if this is a game - he can read the question swimming in your eyes.  “Maybe?”  You’re upspeaking, which is something you never do.  It’s disarming in a way that makes him want to hear it again, but with his name over and over.

“Maybe?”  He echoes, brow quirked and mouth twisted into an expression that starts butterflies in your stomach.  It’s like a switch has flipped.  For the first time, he’s the heartthrob you’ve seen on stage, the one fansites rave about with fervour.  A force to be reckoned with .  “Let me make it clear then?”

It’s spoken like a question, though it begs no answer.  You’d give him anything he wanted.

“Can I?”  You don’t think you have it in you to respond - not when he’s looking at you the way he is, from behind dark lashes and with the most charming smile you’ve ever seen.  But he needs an answer - won’t go further until he has one. 

“Yes,”  you breathe in a voice that doesn’t quite sound like your own, far too airy and mellifluous.

He looks like a kid who’s had his heart’s greatest wish granted.  There’s unbridled joy spilling into every crevice, streaming out of every pore as he lowers himself onto the bed.  You’re trapped beneath him - knees situated comfortably on either side of your legs - when his hands find the shorn hem of your shirt, tugging gently at the offending article of clothing.

“Off,”  he says simply.  It’s gone before you can think twice.  Your sweatpants and socks follow in quick succession - he snorts a laugh when he has to tug your socks off by the ears on either side of your ankles - until you’re left in only black cotton that covers hardly anything at all.

Jungkook sighs a sound that shoots straight into the belly of the beast, sparking warmth in the pit of your stomach.

“You’re so beautiful.”  

He sees the uncertainty in your eyes, hands reaching to cover the places you’ve been self-conscious about since you were old enough to understand what bullying was.  The modest swell of your chest, the tiger stripes along your hips.  

Words are fitted with motion, hands of his own sweeping your arms away from your body. Long fingers curl easily around the dainty turn of your wrist.  “Please don’t hide from me.” 

You can’t deny him when he asks so nicely.

“Tell me about these?”  He means your tattoos, of course.  They’re intricate works of art that span nearly a quarter of your flesh, painting grayscale and colour over cream.  There’s the jasmine he’d spotted the night you met, coiled around your left forearm and up to your bicep in stark ink.  Across your stomach, from the top of your right thigh and over your ribs, are intricate peonies in shades of pink and red and green.  Everywhere lines bloom, etched forever into your skin, his mouth follows.  He can’t ingrain himself in the same ways but he tries, searing devotion in the form of kisses.  

It tickles when he ghosts over your ribs with both tongue and teeth and it’s absolutely indescribable when he catches your nipple between enamel.  

You make that sweet sound he so loves - a heady mix between a gasp and a moan - and he repeats the motion.  You hardly realize he’s speaking when he does it for the third time and adds nimble fingers to pinch and pull the other into the same pebbled state.

“ Tell me.”  He sounds like he’s laughing, trapped halfway down your body with his cheek pressed to the modest swell of your chest.

You’re not sure how you get the words out.  “My mom’s a big gardener.  She calls me her flower.”

“Her flower, huh?”  The question is muffled among your humble cleavage.

“Did I stutter?”  That earns you a sharp tweak to your nipple, the pain shooting pleasure through your limbs in a very unexpected way.  You’ve never been one for pain but the sight of Jungkook staring up at you, head cocked and hands full - well, there’s a first time for everything.

“You want to be nicer to me,”  he states solemnly, like he’s commenting on the weather or the 6 o’clock news and not palming your tits in his much larger hands and drawing out the sweetest murmurs of encouragement.

“I am nice to you,”  you retort - or try to at least.  You hardly get it out before it’s chased out by another one of those lovely sounds that Jungkook seems to be obsessed with. 

“ Nicer , baby.”  

As if to drive his point home, he straightens out, face suddenly dangerously close.  He crowds you with his entire frame, mouth finding yours easily.  It’s not the same sort of kisses you’ve shared all evening;  it’s a display of dominance, a reminder that articulates more than he can say. 

It’s also a distraction, you realize belatedly, with a gasp tearing its way out of your throat. 

Capable hands have found their mark, digits sweeping beneath the seam of your thong.  He lingers just shy of where you desperately want him, expertly trailing featherlight touches through your folds.  He never goes further - doesn’t stretch where you need him most. He’s careful not to brush your clit, focusing instead on the way you’re coating his fingers.

The shit-eating grin never leaves his lips - which never leave your mouth.  He swallows your whines in the same instant he’s pulling them forth, playing you like a fiddle without even really doing anything.  

“Can you do that for me?”  He coos against your neck, that damned voice of his dripping liquid gold into your ears.  

You have to focus hard on what he’s saying because his touch is so distracting.  “What?”  

“I said—”  It stings where his mouth connects, where his teeth nip and spill wine over porcelain.  He’s painting the prettiest pictures, signing his name in the form of broken capillaries.  “—can you be nice to me?”

You’d like to respond - really, you would - but he punctuates the question with the glide of his finger and you can’t do anything but arch into the sudden intrusion.  It feels so good and yet isn’t nearly enough.  

“Kook.”  You’ve never sounded this whiny in your life.  Even his name - one single syllable - hardly makes it past your lips without descending into a cry.

“Use your words , angel.” 

If every nerve ending didn’t feel like it was on fire, you might’ve yelled at him.  Instead, you can hardly form a coherent thought.  You’re too far gone, standing on the edge of a cliff as he teases you open with slow, measured pumps of his wrist.

“I need—”  He’s crooking the single digit within you, right against that spot that makes you see stars.   

“What do you need?  Ask nicely.”

“M-more.  I need m-more .”  A hiccup.  “Please.”  

“Like this?”  You’re empty all at once and then suddenly far more full, the stretch of two fingers stealing the breath from your throat.  “Or like this?”  The pad of his thumb finds your clit with ease, sweeping over the sensitive bundle of nerves once, twice, three times.  “Maybe like this?”  

He repeats his earlier movements, curling his knuckles in a come hither motion that has you sobbing out his name.

“That’s right.”  Ever the gentleman, he works you through your high, watching your face in rapt fascination as your first orgasm of the night crests and crashes over you, sending shockwaves through your system.  He admires the way your mouth falls open - full lips rounding in delight - and how your eyes screw shut.  

You’re the hottest thing Jeon Jungkook has ever seen.

“I’ve got you,”  he murmurs against your temple, never ceasing the slow drag of his fingers, the carefully measured flick of his thumb.  Even when you’re trembling with oversensitivity, he doesn’t relent, choosing instead to reposition.

His weight is gone as he settles between your legs, knees folded beneath him.  He only pauses his needy actions - almost doesn’t, when your hips roll in an apparent attempt to draw him back in - to strip you of your thong, tossing it somewhere over his shoulder.  

“Give me another, okay?”  

You aren’t given a chance to answer before he slips two fingers back where they belong and seals his mouth over your clit.  The coil he’d snapped earlier returns, tension increased tenfold as he alternates between sucking hard and licking, dragging his tongue over and around his fingers.  There’s too much stimulation.  You’re obscenely wet and you’re certain you’d be making a mess, if not for the careful way Jungkook’s devouring you whole, licking up every bit of slick.

“Kook.  Jungkook .”  His name sounds like heaven coming off your lips.  He replays it over and over in his head as he fucks his fingers into you, tapping a brutal rhythm against your g-spot.  He can tell you’re close again - can read it in the way your jaw tenses and your breathing goes erratic, lungs heaving. 

“Come on, baby.  Let go.”  The second orgasm hits harder, arching your back off the mattress as you fight to keep your knees from snapping shut.  You come with a hoarse cry, legs trembling like a leaf with the effort.  “That’s my girl.”  

He’s upon you again, this time crowding your space as he settles all one hundred and fifty pounds of himself beside you.  He anchors you in reality, preventing your boneless body from floating off by pulling you against his chest. 

“You did so good.”  

You accept his kisses readily, somehow managing to thread your arm around his neck despite the fact that you feel like you’ve just run a marathon.  

Being wrapped up in his embrace is like being home - warm and familiar.  

“I want you.”  

He laughs and you can hear the sound rattling around in his chest.  “You’ve got me.”

“That’s not what I meant.”  You sound a little petulant, like a child being denied their favourite toy.  

“I know what you meant,”  he retorts, squeezing your bare hip affectionately.  “But you’re also exhausted, so get some sleep.  Patience is key, remember?” 

You pout up at him with your messy bedhead and sleepy eyes and he almost gives in right then and there.  It’s nearly impossible not to, especially when you drag your hip across his, your ankle hooking his in a bid to bring the two of you somehow closer.

He doesn’t expect you to relent so easily but your yawn outs you, forcing itself past the cage you’re trying - and failing - to keep closed.  “Fine.” 

“I’ll be here when you wake up.”

“You better be.”  It’s an empty threat - you both know he won’t leave.  “I still have to give you your present, anyway.”

He feigns surprise then, snickering quietly.  “You mean it wasn’t you?”

You don’t have the energy to yell at him, so instead you dig your bony fingers into the vulnerable underside of his ribs.  He squirms away from the feeling but never really goes far.

“It’s a Mercy bobblehead, you butt.”  You yawn again, shiver running the length of your spine as you snuggle more closely against his side once more.  Jungkook tugs your duvet up around your shoulders, tucking you in tightly.  The action reminds you of why you’d bought the gift in the first place.  “I think you might actually be my guardian angel.”

notes.  the end of an era (and by era, i mean a fic).  this honestly turned out to be my baby, so i sincerely hope you enjoyed reading it.  i'll likely do some drabbles in the future, because i really, really adore this couple.  as always, let me know your thoughts.  xo

tag list.  @letmebeyour-sun​ @teawithbucky​

#heartsforbts #ficswithluv #goldenclosetnet #magicshopnet #networkbangtan #bts #bts au #bts scenarios #bts imagine #bts imagines #bts fanfic #bts fic #bts smut #bts fluff #jeon jeongguk #jeon jungkook #jungkook #jungkook fanfic #jungkook fic #jungkook fluff #jungkook smut #jeon jungkook smut #jungkook imagine #jungkook scenarios #jungkook au #jungkook x you #jungkook x reader #work.zip #angel.doc #jungkook.doc

[duchesschameleon]

what if - chapter 7

summary: a long lost letter leads to an adventure in Italy for three people who find love and healing along the way. a letters to juliet au

pairing: Aaron Hotchner x GN!Reader words: 3142 a/n: okay, the last three chapters are big ones, so buckle up! the whole fic is written, I’m just working through editing and cleaning it up. there’s no warnings for this one (I think, please let me know if I need to add any!) so enjoy! please throw a comment or a reblog my way if you like it!! and as always, thank you to @qvid-pro-qvo​ for being the best beta

what if masterlist

You wake up the next morning feeling both refreshed and almost hungover. Your throat is dry and eyes are scratchy from the crying but you also feel well rested and definitely a bit lighter. You get ready slowly, taking your time to make sure any traces of your crying are gone.

It’s later than normal when you join Aaron and Dave for breakfast. They’re sitting at the normal table, but Aaron looks tense. He can’t stay still, fidgeting in his seat. When you’re close to the table, he stands and pulls out your chair for you. You blink at him as you sit down, surprised by the gesture.

“Aaron, don’t you have something you want to say?” Dave asks once Aaron’s sat back down in his chair.

He shoots a dark look at Dave before clearing his throat. “I wanted to apologize for yesterday -”

“In the eyes Aaron,” Dave interrupts. Aaron sighs and shifts in his chair so he’s facing you.

“I want to apologize for yesterday. I was out of line,” he says, brown eyes locked on yours. “I shouldn’t have said that, I don’t mean it, and I’m truly sorry.”

You nod and take a sip of coffee before responding. “Thank you, Aaron.”

It’s really all you can say, now that the truth is out there. Aaron knows about your partner, you know about Haley. You both know loss and you know that both of you don’t want to put Dave through it again.

Conversation is stilted for a few more minutes, even with Dave’s best efforts to get something rolling between you and Aaron. Things finally settle into something comfortable when you bring up your search for Carolyn. There aren’t many left on your list, so you and Aaron choose a few near each other for the day.

It winds up being a short day of searching and not a successful one. Lunch might be the most interesting part of the day, at a restaurant that you would never expect to find nor to like so much. It’s a family owned restaurant just off the main road connecting some of the small towns near Siena. You probably would have driven past it, Aaron too, but Dave has an eye for these things. For the small things that turn out to be magical, with delicious food and great wine.

“The gift of old age, of slowing down,” Dave jokes when you bring it up. You feel your cheeks heat up, embarrassed at inadvertently calling Dave old but he tuts at you. “None of that, it’s all about the experience of life. You’re young, focused on going places and doing big things. You’ll learn to appreciate these small things, spontaneous things, in time. I’m just here to help you find them now.” He winks at you, raising his wine glass in a toast that you reciprocate.

“To the finer things,” you say, clinking glasses with Dave.

“To appreciating life, la vita bella,” Dave adds, pulling back from Aaron’s glass.

“La vita bella,” Aaron whispers as he shifts to clink his glass with yours. You take a sip, holding Aaron’s gaze. He looks away after a few moments, when the air feels too thick between you two. It’s a stark difference from that morning, and a testament to how far your tenuous friendship with Aaron has come.

A week ago, you wouldn’t have imagined being so comfortable in his presence but now, you find that you don’t mind being around him. You actually like spending time with him, and you know that you’ve already forgiven him in your head for his words yesterday.

It’s a thought that sticks in the back of your head for the rest of the day, how you have forgiven him. Even if you aren’t fully certain why. You know that you hadn’t told him your full story, even when the perfect opportunity presented itself as you explored Siena two days earlier, so it wasn’t his fault for not knowing you had experienced the same loss he has. He was scared for his friend, his mentor, and you can understand that. But there’s something more to it, you just can’t put a finger on it. Instead, you shove it all to the back of your mind and focus on the remaining Carolyn’s for the day.

It doesn’t take long to rule them both out and you find yourselves back in Siena by mid-afternoon. You head to your room, eager to work more on the story and see what you have so far. Aaron and Dave spend some time poolside and try to convince you to join them, but you stick to your plan.

You sit back in the desk chair, looking over what you have. You know it’s solid, that you’re building a compelling narrative. But you’re missing an ending.

You know there are still Carolyn’s left on your list. You also know that there’s a chance Dave’s Carolyn did leave this area. There’s a chance you won’t find her on this trip, or ever. You hope that isn’t the case, you want Dave to find her and have his happily ever after, but you know that the chances of that happening are dwindling.

There’s a knock on your door, pulling you from your downward spiral. You shake the thoughts from your head as you unlock the door and pull it open.

“Uh, hi.” Aaron says, hands in his pockets and rocking slightly on his feet. “I-we just wanted to see if you were joining us for dinner.”

Your brow furrows in confusion as you glance at your watch. Well, shoot. You’d been up here for longer than planned and sure enough, it’s well into the evening and time for dinner.

“Give me five minutes to change, I can meet you downstairs,” you say, closing the door as you turn back into your room. You hear Aaron huff out a laugh and roll your eyes, knowing that means he’ll be right on the other side of the door waiting for you.

And sure enough, when you pull back the door Aaron is there looking at his watch. “Five minutes on the dot, I’m impressed.”

You roll your eyes in response as you lock the door and turn towards the elevators. The two of you walk in silence to the hotel’s restaurant where you find Dave waiting at a table. There’s already a bottle of wine on the table, from the local vineyard that supplies the hotel with all it’s wine, and three glasses poured.

“I would like to propose a toast,” Dave says, once you both sit down. He faces you, raising a glass in your direction. “Thank you, for everything you’ve done for a complete stranger. It has been the most incredible adventure to be here again in Italy and to have met you.”

You smile at Dave, heart warmed by his words. “Thank you for letting me tag along, it’s been the greatest week.”

Dave smirks at you over his glass. “I think you’ve done a little more than tag along,” he notes, eyes flicking over to Aaron before winking at you.

After that, the conversation flows easily between all three of you as you share stories about your loved ones, reliving adventures with them. It’s a night filled with laughter, with memories, and a few tears. But it’s enjoyable. Things feel more relaxed, you’re comfortable with Dave and Aaron. Which is shocking given that a week ago you barely knew them and argued with Aaron constantly. Crazy what a week in a car searching for a woman can do.

Later that night, you’re out stargazing aimlessly. On the outskirts of the city, you can see more stars than you’ve ever seen in your life. It’s gorgeous and given the fact you aren’t tired yet, you find there’s no harm walking around the hotel grounds.

On a grass covered hill, you find Aaron laying on the ground. As you get closer, you see that he’s looking up at the stars, silent and pensive. He looks almost peaceful, tranquil. It’s a different look from the relaxed smile you’re used to seeing as he drives around Tuscany.

“Mind if I join you?” you ask, standing over Aaron.

He starts and leans up on his elbows, nodding. “No, not at all.” You lay down beside him, staring straight at the sky. You can feel the warmth from Aaron’s body, see his eyes flicker over to you in your peripheral vision.

“I don’t know if I’ve ever seen so many stars in my life,” you whisper. Your eyes sweep over the constellations, taking in the sheer number of stars in the sky.

“It’s incredible,” Aaron replies and you turn your head to look at him. “I only see stars like this when I take Jack camping. It’s not often unfortunately, but we always spend at least one night stargazing way past bedtime.”

You smile and turn your head back to the stars. It’s incredible to see the night sky so full of light and dimension. You’re used to the flat black of New York, the buildings providing all the light and color. This is something completely different and makes you feel so small.

Aaron clears his throat, and you can tell he’s getting ready to say something so you turn your head back to him. He says your name, almost whispers it, and pauses. “I - I wanted to apologize, again, for yesterday. I really am sorry. I was out of line, and I want you to know how sorry I am,” he says, brown eyes full of remorse.

You suck in a breath, trying to find the right words. “Apology accepted, Aaron. Truly. You didn’t know. I could have, probably should have, told you before but,” you take another breath, forcing yourself to slow down, “I was scared. Telling you felt big, it felt scary. It felt like, almost like it was more real than it has been,” you admit. Aaron had been a person who didn’t know - who didn’t give you the look of pity and sadness whenever he saw you. And when he told you about Haley, you knew he probably would never be that person. Telling him then, became an even more daunting task. As if he would truly know you, truly understand just what you were feeling. The pain, the grief, the way it feels never-ending and like an ocean you cannot cross.

“I know what you mean,” Aaron whispers. “When you tell people, you have to face it all over again. It’s like picking at a scab.” You huff out a soft laugh at his choice of analogy but nod before turning back to look at the stars. You’re both silent, just looking at the night sky. It’s a comfortable silence, finally. You feel yourself relaxing into the grass and just enjoying the moment, enjoying Aaron’s company. 

“Do you think she’s out there? Carolyn?” Aaron’s question cuts through the silence, makes you think.

“Yeah,” you say softly. “She’s out there somewhere, I have to believe that.”

“Am I wrong to want Dave to stop, to call this off?”

“No,” you say slowly, “he can’t go on forever. No one can. You have to stop at some point.”

Aaron lets out a sigh. “Then why do I feel like Jack on Sunday?” he mumbles. “It’s nearly time for school and I don’t want to go.”

When you turn your head to respond, you meet Aaron’s eyes. They’re warm and open, filled with wonder. You hold his gaze for a moment before his eyes flicker down to your lips and then back up to your eyes.

And then you’re both slowly moving in, and your lips are touching. You’re kissing Aaron. His lips are soft and gentle as they move over yours. One of his hands holds your chin in place, keeping you still as he deepens the kiss. His tongue runs along the seam of your lips and you open them. You lose track of time, kissing Aaron, reaching out an arm to wrap around his back and pull him close to you. He shifts, the hand on your jaw moving to wrap around your shoulders, his other down your back and rolling you so you settle on top of him. Your lips move together, exploring each other, until you pull back for a much needed breath.

You’re still holding Aaron, still resting on top of him, when it hits you. You were kissing Aaron. You roll off of him, laying on your back again. The tension that had been so present your first few days with Aaron is back, the air tense between you. You stay still, mind racing as you process what just happened and what to do next. Aaron’s just as still and silent beside you, neither one of you daring to speak first.

After a minute of silence, you make your decision. You sit up, take a breath, and then stand to walk away, leaving Aaron on the hill without saying a word.

You don’t look back, focused on making it to your room. You miss the way Aaron sits up, watching you walk away. You miss the way his jaw drops as he processes what just happened, the kiss, the situation, the fact that he kissed you a day after finding out you’d lost your partner only months before. You miss the figure in a window overlooking the hill moving his hand to let the curtains fall back into place as he smiles and shakes his head.

Sleep comes to you in fits that night, the kiss replaying over and over again in your head as you toss and turn.

Logic had made you walk away without a word - you’d recently lost your partner, you live in New York, Aaron lives in DC. Someone would have to give something up for the two of you to be together. And what would everyone say about you finding someone so soon? It’s been four months, that has to be too soon.

But in your heart, you know it’s not. You know that you can’t put a timer on recovery, on grief. And you certainly can’t predict when you’ll meet someone you fall for.

Finally, sleep overtakes your brain and pushes all thoughts of Aaron, of kisses, of relationships out of your head. You’re leaving tomorrow, heading back to Verona and that’s that.

---                                                                                                  

“Good morning,” Aaron says, taking your suitcase from you. “How’d you sleep?”

“Alright,” you respond.

“Good.”

You stand at the trunk of the car, unsure what to say next when thankfully Dave comes outside. Aaron walks past you to help Dave with his suitcase, giving you a moment to take a breath and push down all the thoughts of last night.

You walk away from the trunk and give Dave a hug. “Good morning,” you say, giving him a kiss on the cheek.

He returns the favor and gives you a little squeeze, helping ground you. “You know, the stars looked amazing out of my window last night, did you get to see them?”

“Yeah, they looked incredible,” you say, pulling open the back door of the car. Dave says your name, stopping you from sliding into your seat.

“Do you mind sitting up front today? I want to stretch my legs a little.”

So you walk around to the passenger seat and settle in, quickly glancing at Aaron as he climbs in. Your heart clenches, knowing what you want but also knowing it’ll be impossible to take.

For someone who wants to stretch his legs, Dave spends a lot of time leaning forward between the front seats, snapping along to the radio and singing in Italian. You have your arm propped up on the door and keep looking at the window, at the scenery passing by. It’s bittersweet to be leaving Tuscany, going back to Verona and then New York in a few days, but as you told Aaron last night, you can’t keep searching forever.

Aaron’s driving on the winding road to the highway when Dave all of a sudden sits up and starts tapping on Aaron’s seat. “Look, it’s the vineyard that the hotel stocks! C’mon, let's go see it. It’s our favorite wine.” Aaron slows the car and turns into the vineyard, looking around to see if there’s any signs about tours or visitation.

The road in is lined with trees and bushes and you can see people in the field working. Aaron’s driving slow, still uncertain if you can even be here, when Dave starts again.

“Stop the car Aaron, stop the car,” he says, moving to unbuckle himself. He’s opening the door as Aaron’s coming to a full stop and looking at one of the women working in the vineyard. You and Aaron climb out the car, following Dave and wondering what is going on.

“It’s Carolyn,” Dave says. He’s looking at the young woman working the field, a woman who could not have been alive in the 60s.

You and Aaron share a skeptical look before turning back to Dave. “Alright, let’s get you in the shade,” Aaron says, trying to steer Dave towards the trees. It hits you then, what might actually be happening here and you approach the woman.

“Uhm, tu sai dove Carolyn Bartolini?” you ask, stumbling over the Italian for ‘do you know where Carolyn Bartolini is?”

“I am Carolyn Bartolini,” the woman responds.

Aaron rushes over to you, saying your name as it falls into place for him. “This is - it’s her granddaughter,” he says, as another woman approaches you.

“Can I help you?”

“Yes,” Aaron says, turning to the new woman, “do you know where Carolyn Bartolini is?”

The woman nods, “I am Carolyn Bartolini.”

“Do you also have a mother named Carolyn Bartolini?” you ask, a smile breaking out on your face.

“Si, she left to go riding a little while ago. Can we help you?”

Aaron introduces the two of you and explains that you’ve been looking for her mother, that Dave knew her long ago.

“Aaron, let’s go,” Dave says, calling the two of you back towards the car. “Let’s go, this was -”

“Dave, Carolyn’s here!” Aaron interrupts. “She’s out riding, but she’s here.”

“Then let's go before she gets back.” For the first time, Dave looks apprehensive, scared almost.

“Dave, we’ve come all this way and she’s here! Come on,” Aaron protests.

“I’ve been ridiculous Aaron, you’ve been saying it all along. I knew Carolyn when I was a boy, I was barely 16. I’m not the same person anymore, so let’s go before she gets back.”

“Dave,” Aaron starts.

But then you hear horseshoes. You see Dave turn his head a little, a wondrous look in his eyes. You turn to see what’s going on behind you and you see her.

Carolyn Bartolini.

taglist: @qvid-pro-qvo​ @averyhotchner​ @kelstark​ @hurricanejjareau​ @oreogutz​ @whentheautumnleavesfall​

#aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x gn!reader #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #aaron hotchner fanfiction #letters to juliet #letters to juliet au #romcom au #my writing #what if tag #fic stuff #charlie rambles

[unsaidholland]

vintage, but feels brand new

reposted this bc the tags weren’t working!

i am finally getting this out omg! this is inspired by the bridge in come back home by arkells (great song, one of my favourites!)

warnings: the use of no-no words

being married to your best friend was one of the greatest things that you’ve ever experienced. after only being married for two and a half years, you had a little girl named bryana astrid holland. she had your complexion, eyes, and nose, but harry’s hair and lips. she was the most adorable curly, copper headed baby to ever grace your life, harry of course was a close second. now, at three years old she was one of the biggest blessings in yours and harry’s life.

the honeymoon phase never really ended completely for the two of you, but it was slowly dying out. the buzz of being newlyweds had ended, but the love you had for each other never ended. how could it? he was everything you could’ve ever dreamt of in a husband. he also was amazing with your daughter, which you loved about him. the soft harry that came out around bry was one of your favourites, sarcastic harry was a close second. you often found the two of them cuddled up on the couch together when it was nap time, and when you guys went out, her favourite place was on top of harry’s shoulders. he would do anything for his girls, and that’s one of the things you discovered about him after you guys got married. you always knew he was selfless and extremely dedicated to everything, but it took a different form when it came to your family.

as you were in the kitchen preparing dinner for the three of you, the tv was playing a show that bry loved. the sound of her giggles and her singing along with the songs filled the room. a smile appeared on your face as you continued to saute the vegetables.

harry said he would be home in time for dinner, but he had been filming his newest short film and you had a bit of a hunch that he wouldn’t be home for dinner. recently there weren’t family dinners. just you, bry, and an empty spot where harry should have been. it hurt, but you knew he was working hard. the perfectionist in him always made filming meticulous, but it was his passion. everyone understood that whenever harry was working, nothing was ever short of perfect. however, it was starting to take a toll on you.

you missed going to bed with him, not him crawling into bed when you’re already half asleep. you missed having dinner with him, not watching him have dinner when you were winding down for the night. you missed him being around to play with bry, not her asking when he was going to come home. you just missed him being there.

as you were about to finish cooking, your phone went off.

hi love, sorry i can’t make it for dinner. we’re redoing a few shots, they didn’t turn out the way they should have the first few times around. i’ll try not to be home late, i love you!

you were excited that he was supposed to be home for dinner, but a part of you knew that this text was going to come sometime later in the night. you texted back a simple, okay h, we’ll see you when you get home :) don’t overwork yourself, i love you. you wanted him to be home, but you couldn’t change his work, so you decided to push the sadness aside and enjoy the time you were going to spend with your daughter.

“bry! time for dinner bubba,” you called out into the living room. you put the food out on the table after setting it for the two of you. the sounds of her small, chubby feet hitting the hardwood floors was enough to make you feel better in an instant, but you knew that it would only be a temporary fix.

“where’s daddy? he workin’?” bry asked as she entered the room. your face softened at the slight disappointment on her face.

“it’s just you and me for dinner tonight bubba, i’m sorry.” bry’s face fell. she missed harry, you knew that, but there wasn’t anything you could do to make him come home instantly. “come on, let’s eat, yeah?” she nodded in agreement, climbing into her chair. you felt terrible for her being so let down that harry wasn’t at dinner, but you tried your best to make it up to her. “how about this, let’s eat dinner in the living room and watch a movie. what do you wanna watch?” her face lit up at the sudden change in dinner plans. for the past few days, dinners have been spent at the table with just the two of you, but the introduction of a movie and the subtraction of the kitchen somehow made it more exciting for the curly haired girl.

“mmmm, i wanna watch toothless!” the disappointment left her voice as she thought of the night fury.

“okay bubba! let’s get our food first, and then we can put on the movie, okay?” she carefully grabbed her plate from the table, and waddled over to the living room, putting her plate down on the coffee table and sitting down on the rug that lay below it. you followed in her steps, putting how to train your dragon on the tv, and sitting down beside her. “can i have a hug baby?” she gave you a hug, and you said a quiet “i love you” to her, one she didn’t hear over her own excitement.

as the movie finished, bry was already asleep, so you carried her to her room, laying her down in her bed. you placed a soft kiss on her forehead after tucking her in, closing the door behind you as you left the room. you went back to the living room to clean up the dishes the two of you left behind, and to pack up the leftover food that was sitting on the dining table.

the time your phone screen read 9:23 pm,  dinner was about three hours ago and harry still wasn’t home. you decided to begin unwinding for the night, heading to your bathroom to begin your skincare routine, then heading to your bedroom to put on a pair of shorts and one of harry’s t-shirts. a part of you wanted to lay in bed and put on a show before going to bed, but another part of you wanted to wait in the living room for harry to come home. deciding on the latter, you walked into the kitchen, grabbing a glass of water, then heading into the living room. you decided to watch the good place while waiting for your husband to get home from work. even though the show was on, your mind couldn’t help but focus on where he was.

•••

harry walked into the house quietly. it was 11:13 pm, but he didn’t intentionally come home that late. they just needed to get the perfect shot. he swore it was only going to take another hour or so, not five. he saw you sleeping on the couch, the glow of the tv being the main source of light filling the room. he walked over to you, squatted down, and placed a kiss on your forehead, causing you to stir. he waited for you to go back to sleep, but that never came. you opened your eyes  and groggily you said, “harry?”

“i’m here now love, i’m sorry i’m late,” harry’s apologetic tone was obvious, but it didn’t make up for the fact that his daughter was extremely let down that he didn’t go through with dinner plans that you both had made. you were upset, truthfully you were beyond upset, but you knew you were only upset because you missed him. you sat up, letting him sit on the couch beside you. you were turned so you were facing him. his jacket still on, but unzipped, hat abandoned somewhere.

“did you get the shot you wanted?” your five years of marriage plus the three and a half years of dating prior to getting married made you able to read him like a book. he wanted to tell you about work today and pretend everything was okay, but you weren’t okay. harry, too blinded by his own excitement, proceeded to tell you about the shot and how perfect it had turned out. he went on about how nathan his cameraman kept messing up and going too fast at times and too slow at others. he talked about how the actors’ chemistry was too much at times, which wouldn’t make sense when you watched it back given the storyline. he talked about everything that happened that day. you watched as his eyes lit up, and how his body language immediately changed.

he realized near the end of his story that something was wrong. you weren’t as excited as you usually were. “darling, what’s on your mind?” he asked. he searched your eyes for an answer, but they were filled with an odd mix of pride, anger, and disappointment.

“you weren’t at dinner tonight.” the single statement was enough for him to start piecing everything together, but before he could open his mouth to let an apology roll out, you continued. “bry was really disappointed you know. she really misses having you around. i know that this is your job and your passion, but h we’re your family. we need to spend time with you too.” you looked down at your hands and started fiddling with the wedding ring that sat on your ring finger. “i really, really miss you h.”

“is that what this is about? that i wasn’t at dinner?” he asks. when you look up at him, all you see is his face twisted in confusion. “don’t you want me to work?” you scoff. he’s clearly not getting it, you think. as your eyes roll in annoyance, harry begins to see red. “what now, i don’t fucking get it.”

“yeah, clearly.” the sarcastic remark burned on your tongue as you spit it out. having enough of this, you get up and walk to your shared room but not before saying, “your dinners on the island, just reheat it.”

soon enough you found yourself alone in the king-sized bed. the white duvet was pulled up over your legs, the end of it sitting above your waistline. your laptop sat on top of your thighs as you aimlessly scrolled through pinterest. your mind wasn’t focused on the aesthetically pleasing photos, but rather on how harry couldn’t understand that his family missed and needed him. as what felt like hours passed, harry finally entered your room. he closed the door behind him and went straight to his closet to grab a pair of sweatpants for him to sleep in. as he was getting undressed, the silence filled the room, being louder than it should have been.  

harry sat on his side of the bed, pulling the covers up and over his legs, then beginning to read a book that was left on his nightstand. his brown eyes gazed over the pages. like you, his mind wasn’t focused on the words that were on the page, but rather the ones that left your lips. how could she say something like that? she knows my work is important to me, he thought.

“how could i say something like that? harry, you haven’t even been home for dinner for the past week! you haven’t been here to put our child to bed, who by the way, always asks me when you’re gonna spend time with her. i know your work is important to me, and i’m not saying it shouldn’t matter, but i’m saying you need to learn how to give yourself to us and work at the same time.” you said, shutting the laptop. his thoughts weren’t supposed to leave his head, but now they were out in the open. you both were grateful that he had broken the silence, even if he didn’t realize that he had.

“are you kidding me? who the fuck do you think is putting the food on the table? you’re still on maternity leave and we know damn well that money covers all the bills so don’t even try to act like you’re doing more than me.” you were looking at him, and he was turned so he was facing you. “whenever i’m around i give all my time to you and to bry, so why are you even complaining?” he let out a scoff, one that infuriated you more than you already were. you turned so you were facing him, but moved back towards the foot of the bed so you weren’t right next to him.

“i honestly can’t believe that when i say your fucking daughter misses you all you retaliate with is how much money you make.” you got up, grabbing your phone and a book. “i’m sleeping in the guest room because you’re acting like a child right now.” harry stood up and met you as you walked around the bed towards the door.

“don’t just leave when we’re actually talking about this, what the fuck!” he exclaimed. his volume was rising unintentionally, but he was still sure to try and not wake bryana who was sleeping in her room down the hall. you tossed your stuff gently onto the bed.

“fine, you want to talk? let’s talk then. you leave every day at 8:30 am, bry wakes up at 7. you spend about an hour and a half with her, then leave and don’t even come back until it’s around eleven pm. this happens every fucking day harry. i bring her to school every morning and all she asks me is, ‘is daddy gonna be home for dinner today?’ and all i can say to her is i hope so. don’t act like we don’t appreciate what you’re doing for us.” you’re looking at him in the eyes now and all you can see is anger. harry is filled with rage, but what you don’t see is that he is determined to win this argument.

you continued anyways, “do you enjoy having dinner alone when your wife and kid are upstairs sleeping? ‘cause we sure as hell don’t like having dinner with your seat empty. and i-” harry was quick to cut you off.

“literally just shut the fuck up for thirty seconds and let me speak.” you were shocked. not once has a fight between the two of you escalated this far or gotten this heated. “i fucking work hard for our family and however many kids we’re going to have, okay? i’m sorry i’m not always around when i’m working, but you knew when you married me that i give my all to whatever project i’m working on.” he stopped to rub his face with his hand. tears were welling up in your y/e/c eyes, but that didn’t stop either of you from continuing. “i love you and i love our family, but i have a job and a career that makes me have long workdays at times and not have worked at all other days. you just have to accept that.”

harry’s tone softened when he saw you fighting back tears, though he wasn’t going to give in. but then you choked back a sob, and he immediately let his defence fall. he pulled you into his bare chest, wrapping his arms around you. as much as you wanted to refuse his touch, you couldn’t. the bedroom was only lit by the lamps that sat on each nightstand and the moonlight, and as the two of you stood there you wondered how you were so lucky to be with harry. yes, you were still technically in the middle of a fight, but somehow you both felt as if there was some common understanding that was reached as soon as the tears fell.

“you know i never meant to attack you like that?” you asked. “i just want you to spend more time with us when you can,” you said, feeling guilty about all the words you said to him. they weren’t particularly nasty perse, they just came out too hostile. “i’m really sorry baby.” you looked up into his brown eyes to see him staring back at you. the anger that once clouded them was replaced with soft love, that’s all he felt when he saw you.

“i’m sorry too bub. i swear i’ll be home for dinner tomorrow night. don’t tell bry, i wanna surprise her.” after planting a soft kiss to the top of your y/h/c hair, his hands went up under your shirt to rest on your waist, wanting to be closer to you. nothing was fully resolved just yet, but at least the two of you could go to bed that night without being angry with each other.

the next morning, you had woken up to an empty bed. the sun had already risen, and as you looked at the clock that sat on the wall opposite to your bed, you saw that it was past seven am. you had woken up late. you immediately checked your phone, already freaking out about your alarm not going off. you didn’t have time to prepare lunches and breakfast for everyone if you wanted to have a morning shower, nor did you have the time for yourself that you reserved every morning when you did your morning skincare just a little bit slower than you should have.

as you were about to get out of bed, the door opened to reveal harry and bryana. harry was holding a wooden tray, breakfast sat on top of it with either a cup of tea for both you and harry.

“what’s this?” you ask, confused as to what you did to deserve this. it was a normal saturday, there wasn’t any special occasions coming up, and it wasn’t like you and harry were yelling at each other less than twelve hours prior.

“it’s breakfast in bed mumma! we’re having breakfast in your bed!” you knew the confusion was painted onto your face, but as you looked at your husband a soft smile appeared on your face.

“well come on then! get over here you two,” you said as your arms opened up for bry to come cuddle you. she ran and hopped up onto the bed, harry following behind her, careful not to spill anything. he placed the tray down in the middle of the bed, it had three plates on it, all of them had scrambled eggs, a piece of buttered toast cut on the diagonal, and some strawberries and blueberries on the side. he sat down beside you and leaned in to give you a kiss. you met him halfway despite your morning breath. “before we eat, i’m gonna go brush my teeth okay?” you asked bry, and she nodded in agreement, already munching down on her toast.

you came back from the bathroom to see bry starting to eat some scrambled eggs, half of her toast was gone. harry was putting his tea down on a coaster that sat on the wooden nightstand on his side of the bed. you sat down in between him and bry, on your side of the bed, and took a sip of the tea that he made you. bry had a cup of orange juice that sat on the tray that she reached for.

once bryana was done with her breakfast, she ran off to her room to play with her toys and to get dressed for the day leaving you and harry alone. you and harry had taken photos of the breakfast arrangement prior to her leaving, but you still wished she had stayed. there wasn’t much left for the three year old to do but go and play.

��thank you for this.” a smile appeared on both of your faces, ones that harry wanted to savour and remember forever, so he took his phone out and took a selfie of the both of you.

“anything for you, my love.” he didn’t need to say more for you both to know that this was an apology breakfast, a breakfast that told you he was going to try and divide himself up more whenever he was working on a project.

the almost half an hour that the two of you spent together before getting ready to fully start the day made the butterflies stronger. the love that you had for each other only seemed to grow if that was even possible. though the marriage was a little bit vintage, it still felt brand new.

#harry holland #harry holland fic #harry holland one shot #harry holland imagine #harry holland x you #harry holland x reader #harry holland x y/n #harry holland fluff #harry holland angst

[marmolady]

Livita: Part One

Remember this fic? I went to do a few edits on my old fic, ‘Livita’, and the whole thing ended up stretching to double the length of the original! It’s now been split into thirds, chronicling Taylor and Estela’s journey to motherhood. 

Book/Series: Endless Summer

Main Pairings: Estela x MC/Taylor (f)

Summary: Post-ending. Freed from Vaanu, Taylor has been building a life with her soulmate… but their family remains not quite complete. Read PART TWO.

Warnings: Coarse language.

Word Count: 4262

Reviews and reblogs are hugely appreciated!

Tagging: @sceptilemasterr​ @saivilo​ @greengroove​ @edgydepressedchoicesthot

La Huerta, June 2021

 Estela and Taylor had found their home. La Huerta had been their shelter, as it had been for Diego, and for Aleister and Grace, in a time when the wider world had been in turmoil. Some years ago, during the twelve Catalysts’ year of isolation at the end of the world, a small village had been built in the shadow of the great tree of Elyys’tel, and it was here that remained home for the small group. On La Huerta, Taylor and Estela had found their place in this world, together-- and it was there that they planned for their family’s next steps.

Taylor had invited Diego and Varyyn to join herself and Estela in the hot pools at the base of La Huerta’s snow-covered mountainous region. There were few places she knew more tranquil, more calming. She’d need that. What she and Estela were proposing was… monumental. There would be no resting until they bit the bullet and put it out there so… they would just have to take that leap.

That they’d grow their family together had always been a given, at least once it became certain that Taylor could remain with her loved ones on earth. They’d found their peace, and each had their home was in the arms of the other. The next step was the baby. Estela would carry the child; passing on a little piece of the mother who’d been so cruelly taken from her. Of course, it meant that the other grandparent would carry on through the bloodline as well… but having wrestled with it, Estela concluded that honouring Olivia Montoya was more important to her than eliminating Rourke. It was deemed the safer option; whatever Taylor was, she was not entirely human, and her reproductive capabilities and genetic contribution would be rather more of a gamble. If it came to it, they could try that path-- certainly Taylor liked the idea of being related to another person by blood-- but the simple truth was that Estela’s urge for that physical bond was far stronger.

Diego, they hoped, would be the donor-- and someday a doting tio. In Taylor’s eyes, he was ‘her side of the family’, a part of her being that she loved beyond measure. The thought of creating a person out of Diego and Estela, was just about the most beautiful thing Taylor could imagine. In every way, her family. She’d tried to remain detached and unemotional about the idea; there was no assuming that Diego would feel comfortable in being the donor in the first place-- family was a complicated thing for him, at she respected the hell out of that. But god, it was hard not to let her hopes rise.

The outing had been intended to be relaxed, but even as she soaked in the hot springs, Taylor couldn’t help but seek reassurance to soothe her near-constant attacks of nerves-- just a glance and Estela would give her a look, stoic and sure, and it was enough to get her through another few minutes of what was supposed to be easy; just hanging out with her best friend. Diego, of course, quickly became concerned. No fool, he could see something bubbling beneath the surface, clear as day.

“All right. Spill. Something’s driving you crazy right now.”

Taylor flushed-- though she was red enough from the steaming water that it made little difference to her complexion. “I’m fine. We just… want to talk to you about something. I figured if we just sat you down, all serious, you’d jump straight to ‘dear god, who’s died?’”

“Or… ‘dear god, is Estela an alien too?’”

Both girls laughed.

“I’m sure people have wondered that,” Estela said dryly.

Taylor took Diego’s hands, which helped to steady her own from shaking. Jesus, she just loved him so much. If this wasn’t what he wanted… of course, she’d respect that, but she was certain a little part of her heart would break.

“Tay, you’re sure you’re okay?”

“I’m fine, I’m fine.” She took a deep, shuddering breath. Get right into it, or you’ll just make yourself more nervous. “Well, you know that Estela and I have been thinking about having a baby together; we’ve been talking about it a lot, and we’re ready. We’re ready to grow our family… make it a little bigger. And… I really, really hoped… I…we wondered if you might like to be the donor for our baby.”

For a few moments, Diego was stunned into silence; his eyes widened as he swallowed what he’d just been told.

“You… want me to…?”

“You should both talk about it,” Estela said. “We know it’s pretty huge. I dunno… maybe you’d be like the baby’s extra special tio. Whatever you wanted the relationship to be.”

Diego hadn’t heard a whole lot of what he’d just been told. He was already falling weeping into Taylor’s arms. There was no question; no question at all. His mind flashed with an imagined future, of something closer to parenthood than he’d dare let his heart long for.

Taylor held him, blinking back tears-- a pointless endeavour. “I love you so much. It’s hard to imagine doing this without you being a big part of it. Whatever you choose, you’re gonna be our baby’s tio. But it would mean the world to me if….”

“This is the greatest honour,” Varyyn said softly, his own eyes misty.

Estela offered him a warm smile. “It means a lot to us both. Obviously, you’ll need to talk this all through-- we’re not expecting an answer right away. This is… a lot.”

“What sort of, uh, time-frame are we looking at?” Diego asked as he sat back next to Varyyn, who wiped away his tears.

“Soon,” Estela said resolutely. She glanced to Taylor, feeling the emotion just radiating off her. This meant the world to Taylor, as Diego did. “We’re both ready for this, it’s just-- if you want to do this-- how soon you’re comfortable. We know this might not happen quickly, so the sooner we can get things started…”

“...The sooner you can get through the rollercoaster of ‘trying’?”

“Yes.”

For a little while, Diego was quiet… stunned, he needed a few moments for his thoughts to catch up with his emotions. Having children was something he and Varyyn had discussed at great length, and the conclusion they’d always begrudgingly come to was that for the foreseeable future, their lives simply couldn’t accommodate that-- not in a way that would be fair to a child. Diego knew that he belonged on La Huerta, but that wasn’t the whole of his life; where his two worlds collided was a mess. There was still that lingering dream, but he knew better than to hang too tight to it. But… in Taylor in Estela’s child, he could have something beautiful; different but beautiful. Wasn’t that just the way his story was meant to be by now?

“Do you have, like, a plan worked out? I guess it’s pretty tough to travel for procedures right now….”

Taylor grinned. “Don’t I always have a plan?”

“Ha. You know I’d never doubt you.”

“Yeah, we want to stay on La Huerta if we can. Otherwise, we’d be able to get permits to go in and out of San Trobida. There’d be quarantine to deal with-- with the way things are in the States, they’re especially cautious about Americans-- but it wouldn’t be an insurmountable hurdle.”

“Have you worked out who you want to actually carry the baby?”

“Estela’s going to be the birth mother,” Taylor said, giving her wife a small smile and reaching to squeeze her fingers. It had been a tough one. She knew there was part of Estela that felt guilt over the decision they’d reached, but it was a decision they had come to together and Taylor would not let there be any doubt where she stood on the matter. “We talked about it a lot. A lot. Figuring out which oven we want to put the bun in was a huge decision, and there was so much to consider. You know how amazing it would be for me to have a blood tie with someone. I’ve longed for that. And I’ve mostly worked through it; I mean, I’m made up of my family-- of you especially. It’s who I am; it might not be about DNA, but it doesn’t mean it’s not as powerful. It’s… part of the reason why I wanted to ask you. In every way that matters to me, you represent my family.”

Again, Diego found himself choked up.

“And for Estela, it was a little different.”

Estela flushed a little, and averted Diego’s eye contact. This was so intensely personal. “If I could pass on a small piece of my mother… I don’t have anything more precious to give my baby. She would have wanted to give my baby everything. This will have to be enough.” She gathered herself, looking back to offer Diego an awkward smile as he gave her a knowing nod. “I was uneasy about what else I would be passing on, but it’s a connection to Aleister and Grace, and maybe cousins someday.”

“We did consider partner IVF,” Taylor said. “That’s where we take the embryo from one mother and implant it in the uterus of the other, but it felt like… a lot. I don’t have a big attachment to the idea of pregnancy-- definitely not as much as ‘Stel does-- and it sounded like a whole lot of intervention. Nothing about my life has been straight-forward, you know? So I got really invested in the idea of doing this as naturally as possible. Just us, at home, building our family together. I know it’s asking a lot as a same-sex couple, but I’d much rather this didn’t have to become something clinical-- not unless it turns out we can’t get pregnant a simpler way.”

Diego swallowed past the hard lump in his throat. He would represent Taylor’s family. He would be a father figure, an honour bestowed by someone who actually saw him and loved him for it all. And he was going to love his best friend’s baby with every fibre of his being.

Concerned, Taylor rushed to reassure. “Just-- take your time, okay? I know this is huge--”

“No,” Varyyn said firmly, and he gave Diego a subtle nod. He knew his husband; he knew that look on his face, that sweet certainty. He’d seen that smile after he’d asked of Diego a very important question one Niala’rei several years ago.

Diego took Taylor’s hand in one of his, and Estela’s in the other… and breathed deep. “Of course-- of course, I’ll do it. More than anything in the world, I want to do this for you.”

The air filled with joyous squeals and the splash of water as the group erupted into embraces and a few more tears. Sandwiched between the two people she loved more than anything else in all the world, Taylor knew that together, they could make this happen.

  __________________________

 August 2022

 Taylor’s heart sank as she looked at the result. Negative. Again.

Estela sighed and looked away. Again, no baby. Even knowing she could have done nothing more, it felt as though she’d let Taylor down when it really mattered. She’d promised her a family. And for herself…. Everything she’d ever wanted… her deepest desire… it was so close, only for them to be repeatedly smacked down by some invisible barrier.

“We’ll try again,” said Taylor quietly, trying to and failing to sound like someone who hadn’t just been crushed. “This is gonna happen for us, okay?”

Despairing, Estela threw her head back, fighting, fighting against the tears that so wanted to come. For several long minutes she wrestled with herself, with the torrent of emotion, before turning back to her wife. Her voice shook when she spoke. “Maybe… maybe we should try with you… it’s not as if I’m not made up of a load of shit that we shouldn’t really want to pass on to an innocent child. I’ve been selfish.”

“First of all; no. Not only are you not remotely a selfish person, you are freaking perfect… to me, you are perfect. Nothing you could give our baby could be anything but that. I love you. And I know how much you want this. I want it to be you. I want us to keep trying.”

Walking away, Estela could feel guilt clawing at her stomach. Of course she wanted to be the one to carry the baby, but if things kept up like this, there wouldn’t be a baby to carry. She sighed again, heavier, and curled up on the couch, knees against her chest. “Taylor, it’s been over a year…”

“We could see another doctor? But I trust what they said; everything’s working fine, it’s just not necessarily gonna happen overnight. I honestly think we’ve just been unlucky so far. And… and maybe it’s taken us a while to get our turkey-baster technique down.” Taylor sat down beside her wife and began massaging her back, feeling tension in every muscle. So much stress. “I know we wanted to do this at home, but we could consider intra-uterine, or even IVF. How about we give it one more month, and then start seriously looking at other options?”

For a long while, Estela said nothing, staring into space as she tried to process the aching disappointment. When she zoned back into reality, Taylor was still there, kneading her back. Another month… that was reasonable.

Taylor eased down the back of Estela’s shirt and pressed kisses between her shoulders. “I know how much you’re hurting right now… I’m feeling it too. Someday soon, we’ll hardly remember this; we’ll be too busy wading through diapers and trying to get a wink of sleep. But for now, I think it’s a comfort food under a blanket situation. We’ll just snuggle up in a love cocoon until whenever it is that we’re ready to put on brave faces.”

They cuddled beneath a blanket on the couch, grateful to have nothing pressing to do nor any people to see.  So much thought, so many long nights of discussion had gotten them to the point of trying, but all the rationale, the planning… all of it mattered little if it just didn’t happen for them. In the end, how it happened wasn’t important; they just needed their family.

The disappointment was not getting any easier, month after month, even as it became expected. They now knew better than to get their hopes up too high. Once again, Taylor would go back to Diego to ask for his help… another round of ‘I’m sorry’s and hugs of consolation, while Estela would back into herself, becoming quiet and reclusive until the pain of the blow dulled. The days, then weeks, would pass, and the couple’s optimism would return as it always did. Together they’d literally undone an apocalypse; so long as they had one another’s hands to hold, they’d soldier through anything.

Estela let herself be held, the touch of her lover offering the only comfort strong enough to keep her from going under. It had been so long now. Doubts, once trifling, became magnified until they were near suffocating. She had gazed upon her reflection in their full-length mirror, taking the time to contemplate while Taylor’s voice floated up from downstairs as she’d filled Diego in with another crushing update. What Estela had seen there was not a nurturer, but a fighter. Her physique, though not perfectly toned as it had once been, was still not exactly cuddly. And the scars… god, there were so many. Wounds from knives, a sword… a freaking dinosaur… her body was just a painting of violence. And that was just the damage that could be seen; far more, far deeper were the scars to her heart and soul. What harm could someone like that do to an innocent baby? Perhaps nature was simply preventing a great cruelty….

“Hey?” Taylor whispered. A quiet grunt was all the reply she received, but Estela looked up, meeting her eyes. “Everything that you are is what’s going to make you a wonderful mom. One of the things… one of the things I’ve been most excited for is just, like… our baby’s gonna say something, do something, and I’ll be like ‘whoa, that’s an Estela thing’. There’s no one else I could even imagine doing this with.”

With a small sob, Estela held Taylor tighter.

“It’s the pain talking, okay? This isn’t anything rational. And I honestly believe this is who you’re meant to be. The first time you held Reggie, I was on the verge of crying because of how right it just was. You held him like you’d never let him fall. Everything you’ve been through has only made you love even harder. And it’s gonna happen; I swear it’s gonna happen… you are going to be such a good mom.”

Estela gently caressed Taylor’s lips with her own, tasting the salt of tears. For her, she’d be strong; it was what she’d always done. It was impossible to be broken for long whilst held in Taylor’s heart and embrace. She could cut through the doubts, just enough to take another step forward.

“Next time…” she said softly.

Taylor nodded and returned the kiss. God, I love you…

“…Next time….”

  __________________________

September 2022

 Pausing her frenzied scribbling of notes, Taylor pushed her glasses back up the bridge of her nose. From her position cross-legged on the couch in their La Huerta home, she heard the creak of the front door.

“You’re home late,” she said, still poring over her notes. “Reggie holding you hostage again?”

Estela draped her arms over Taylor’s shoulders and kissed the top of her head. “Yeah, something like that.”

Taylor couldn’t help but laugh. “I think a part of you is kinda flattered that you can’t give the kid to someone else without him dissolving into banshee screams…”

“He knows his tia.” Pausing for a moment, Estela waged a silent debate in her head before making up her mind for sure. “Taylor, I want to take the test…”

Taylor looked up. Spending so much time with their nephew had only heightened Estela’s want for a baby. The both of them adored Reginald; most days they saw him, cuddled him, loved him, effortlessly coming into their roles as aunts. But the presence of Aleister and Grace’s bright-eyed baby boy served to highlight exactly what they were missing. “I know. But if you wait a couple more days, it’ll be more accurate. This whole thing is tough enough without worrying about false negatives.”

Estela sat down opposite Taylor, reaching out for her hands. “I’ve just got a feeling, you know? I feel different.” She took her wife’s hand, and tucked it into her bra. “That’s swollen, right?”

“Possibly? But it’s early, sweetheart. I don’t want you getting carried away with something that might not exist.” Of course, it was easy to see signs when it was wanted so much. Between hanging around Reggie all day, and an upcoming journey back to San Trobida in a few days, the yearning was running wild. It was only natural that Estela wanted to greet her tio with the news that she was expecting, but Taylor feared another disappointment. She stroked Estela’s breast, while her other hand lovingly cupped her face. “You know that even if you are pregnant, it probably won’t show up yet?”

“I know that. I’ll do it again in a few days… I just don’t think I can rest without trying.”

“Okay… but don’t get your hopes up. Do you want me with you?”

Estela shook her head. “It’s all right. Like you said, it’s probably too early to work. I’m just trying to settle the voice in my head.” As she moved to leave, Taylor hugged her tight.

“Love you…”

“Love you.”

Taylor looked back to her notes. Their return to San Trobida would be momentous for her; starting up a much-needed youth counselling service in the area surrounding Estela’s home. It was what she’d studied for, and it was with nervous excitement that she jotted down ideas and sketched out plans. With the grants and scholarships that the Aleister and Estela’s inherited company had to offer, there was the feeling that they might be able to make a real difference in giving the children of the civil war hope for the future. The central inspiration to their work was, of course, Estela’s mother. Each award given out to a student was gifted in her name; it provided a small comfort that Dr. Olivia Montoya’s legacy was one of a promise for a better tomorrow. Taylor found herself distracted. They had fulfillment in one another, in the work they were doing… but the picture remained incomplete. The quiet having lingered for too long, Taylor got to her feet, putting her notes aside.

“Estela? Is everything all right?”

No response. Becoming worried, Taylor started towards the bathroom, expecting that she’d need to break out the emergency cheering-up ice cream, as had been a monthly occurrence since they’d started trying for a baby. She knew she’d been right. It had been foolish to cause such distress when another test would need to be taken a few days later anyway.

She tentatively pushed the door. “’Stel? I’m here…”

Estela was sat trembling on the tiled floor, her eyes wide and wet with tears, seemingly unable to look away from the test stick she held in her hand. Several others lay at her feet.

“…Taylor… I’m…” In her daze, she couldn’t even get the words out.

Tears sprung to Taylor’s eyes and her hand to her mouth. Surely… surely it couldn’t be what she thought it was? But then, that smile… that smile… it said it all.

“Wh-what are you… what are you saying?”

“We’re… we’re having a baby…”

Without knowing how she got there, Taylor was on the floor, Estela’s arms around her as they cried, and laughed, and kissed.

We’re having a baby.

#estela x mc #endless summer #playchoices #choices fanfiction #estela montoya #diego soto #liv montoya

[clan-sayeed-fic]

Do you love the blood on my hands? (Kamilah Sayeed & MC)

Reposting because of the issue with tags.

Book: Bloodbound (property of Pixelberry Studios)

Pairing: Kamilah Sayeed & MC: Amy (I do not own those characters, they’re the property of Pixelberry Studios as well)

❗ Warnings: angst, strong language, illustrative descriptions of situations full of violence and brutality, might cause distress ❗ Rating: Mature (no doubts about that) Author’s note:  I’m not a native English speaker, I’m sorry for any mistakes (feel free to correct me).

As usual, I might have exaggerated a little bit in the warnings, but I want you to think twice before reading, rather than be responsible for your anxiety later.

This whole one-shot is focusing on Kamilah Sayeed. My main goal was trying to understand the work she had to put in herself and struggles that she faced along with it. To show her transformation from a person that was under Gaius's influence, to the one we get to know when our character meets her in Bloodbound for the first time. Pixelberry Studios showed us our MC's impact on Kamilah throughout the story, but the question remains, what was before that?

I mean, who else would try to write a whole character development in the one-shot fic haha geez, I'm a joke to myself. But at least you have the answer to why this story is so long, and I hope it'll keep you interested from the beginning to its end 💕

~ 3000 words

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

Do you love the blood on my hands?

"You never talk about it."

Words slipped out, getting caught by the air in a flash. As if the world feared that the owner would change her mind, trying to take them back.

The sentence managed to fly ahead, led by the wind in this marvelous evening. Finally, it reached the woman in a burgundy suit standing on the shore. She turned her head a little on the sound of the hushed tones. The brightness of the sun hit behind her, making her figure cut out in comparison to the picturesque sky. She was like a goddess captured by the artist with brush strokes on the background of a peaceful ocean.

"Have you just read my mind, love?" corners of Kamilah's mouth curled up hardly noticeable, her posture full of dignity.

She didn't get to hear the answer, because at that moment the sky absorbed their full attention. Rays of sunshine won their fight between the clouds, reaching the Earth as they desired it all along. The intensity of the light made water shine as if it was covered in millions of diamonds. Both women got lost in that view, admiring it in silence.

Admiring it together.

"I..." Amy smiled, her cheeks took one of the colors straight from the sky. "Sometimes, your thoughts scream so loud, it's hard for me to not listen to them."

The woman turned around fully, facing her beloved one. Warm shades of sunset brightened the dark brown tones of her hair. Her skin shined along with the ocean, making the view truly breathtaking.

"Care to tell what do they scream?" Kamilah sent the girl a soft smile, trying to ease the tension.

They were scratching the surface of her past like the sun that was teasing their skin. It was their favorite part of the day since Amy was turned into a vampire. And that weekend, they were grateful to admire it on the beach while listening to the soothing sounds of water.

"How badly you hate yourself," Amy whispered in response.

Kamilah sighed slightly at those words, at the issue she was avoiding for a lifetime. The one she was keeping inside, not showing her true feelings to anyone. But something about this scenery made her lower her guard as her mind escaped to former times.

"One thought keeps coming back to me since the day I've refused to follow Gaius's orders," Kamilah's stare was empty.

She made her way toward the girl sitting on the ground. Blond strands of her hair were gleaming on top of golden tones of the sand. Her green eyes were standing out among this refined game of colors.

"What thought?" Amy asked, watching her wife closely.

"That there is a huge difference between creating a monster..." She sat down and looked at the clouds as if she prayed that they would cleanse her soul. "And letting someone make a monster out of you."

The guilt took over her body as the words were spoken aloud for the first time. The moment she wanted to close inside herself again, she felt a hand on her back. It was moving slowly up and down, easing woman's pain and adding courage at once. She turned her head at this gesture to look at the girl sitting beside her.

The most powerful ray of sunshine locked in the form of a person.

"I killed people, Amy," her tone was speaking by itself as if she already passed herself a death sentence. "I killed innocents... men and women... old and young... adults and... children."

A single tear flowed down her cheek. And before anyone could catch it, it fell on the sand, burying itself between grains, ashamed of the world to notice it.

To spot this sign of absolute vulnerability.

"I know," Amy's voice cut through the silence. "I know you did all of that, Kamilah," she placed one of her hands under woman's chin. "But I chose my side a long time ago," their eyes met.

The sky above them was slowly losing all the values. As if along with the tones of pinks, blues and brighter, oranges and yellows, all the hope disappeared.

"Amy, don't..." her voice broke. "Don't act like you see the chance for redemption for me," she moved her face away, avoiding her wife's gaze.

"Why not?" Amy's voice was like the opposite of Kamilah's, full of faith.

"Because I don't deserve it," a whisper in response with growing outrage in her tone. "Because you can't possibly comprehend what a cruel person I was back then," she looked at those green, light eyes, with the darkness inside her own.

They were left alone on the shore. But there was much more to both of them than to the entire crowd of people.

"Exactly, so let me see it by myself," Amy lifted her hand for the woman to take it.

"I can't," Kamilah shook her head in despair. "I can't take you there."

Her voice grew weaker with every word. As if the last piece of her spirit was shying away from her body. It was making its way on the sky, resting there in the form of stars, gleaming from above.

"Just let me in," Amy said, keeping her hand lifted, the offer still open. "And I'll do the rest."

Despite the previous hesitation, the moment her eyes met again with Amy's, Kamilah had no doubts left. It felt so natural. To entrust her memories and darkest secrets with the love of her life.

So she placed her hand on top of hers. And a spark traveled through both of them right after their skin grazed.

Some indefinable power took them inside Kamilah's mind. On a journey, leading them toward the darkness that was impossible to avoid there.

***

Taste of blood.

Liquid of the intense shade of red was slowly running down from the corner of the woman's mouth. She pulled back from her victim, just to admire the sensation for a tiny bit longer. To cherish the feeling of his mortal body weakening in her embrace.

She felt more powerful than ever. The life of innocents in her hands. The same ones from which the blood was dripping on the ground at her feet.

It was up to her how many of those villagers died that night. How much pain they did suffer before that happened. How loud their screams were when she was ripping them apart.

Her creator Gaius enjoyed them screaming loud. He absolutely loved performing a show for those who dared to enter the village during the attack. Who considered themselves strong enough to fight back.

And finally, for those who ended bowing before him and begging for mercy.

Mercy that they were never about to get from this man. Because hope was like a toy in his hands. Known as the greatest weapon of all times.

"How does it taste, my queen?" man's voice echoed behind her.

But the woman that Amy was observing on the side didn't answer. Instead, she dipped her fangs in the neck of the young man, sucking the life out of him. For a second, his body moved in convulsion, just to lay down still on the ground after she was finished.

Just to join the rest of the dead bodies that were spread all over the village.

"It tastes like fear," Kamilah stood up, looking at the victim with disgust. "I hate drinking the blood of cowards."

Amy lifted her hands to her own mouth, trying to hold back a scream. The scenery around her seemed to be cut out straight from the horror movie. And yet, it was the past of her beloved one.

The intensity of the pain that she sensed from this place outgrew her worst expectations. The whole memory was filled with darkness and cruelty, which she was able to experience by watching the death of innocents.

"I'm aware that's not up to our standards," the man moved closer to Kamilah. "But we will get what we deserve," he cleaned the blood around her mouth. "We will take over the world," a sly smile appeared on his face.

"Together."

***

"No, please," Kamilah cried out, trying to push the girl away. "You were supposed to look at this, not me."

"Kamilah," she kept her eyes closed, trying to maintain the connection. "I don't want to force you into seeing this, but I really think you should."

The woman was drowning in the ocean, filled with guilt and embarrassment. The walls she built around herself for hundreds of years were slowly falling apart as she was left with no other choice than to give up.

"I can't face him. I can't meet the people I've murdered," she wept in desperation once again.

"Trust me, please," tears started flowing down Amy's cheeks as her own feelings linked to Kamilah's. She managed to keep herself focused when the command left her mouth, "now, we're going to walk."

They stood up slowly on the sand, while their spirits jumped into the next memory.

***

Bloodshed.

A stranger flew over the tables, landing on the other end of the bar. Loud coughing filled the room along with the pungent scent of blood, which hit Amy's nose rapidly. She looked around, taking in the surroundings of the scene.

Wooden chairs and tables were broken, spread all over the floor in the place she found herself in. She spotted an enormous amount of shattered glass. Alcohol was flowing down of the broken bottles, dripping on the floor.

Getting mixed up with the blood that once was running in the veins of those people. Humans that were stiff on the floor in unnatural positions, lacking any form of life.

"Just get it over already!" a loud scream echoed inside the building.

A throaty voice was coming from a middle-aged man, probably a bartender. He was the owner of this cursed place that unluckily happened to be the next destination of a Vampire Queen's crusade.

The woman moved forward, getting rid of the tables on her way with just one hand as if their weight meant nothing for her. Her eyes were flashing with the intense shade of crimson at anyone who dared to look at her directly.

"What are you?!" the bartender managed to lift himself up with difficulty, spitting out blood. "Who the fuck kills so many people in just a few seconds?!"

He was staying upright in front of her. As if the image he witnessed, the woman with red eyes and fangs, made no impression on him. As if seeing the death of his friends and customers was enough to make him believe in anything.

To make peace with the upcoming end.

"I believe it should be the last of your concerns," Kamilah whispered in her icy tone.

Amy watched the woman moving closer to the victim. She quickly recognized her fully prepared for attack posture.

"You kill me, and then what?" Thoughts escaped to his family, "you will deprive my wife of a husband, my children of a father," his voice broke along with his spirit. "You will be the one to bear the guilt of this for eternity."

Amy noticed a tiny difference in the expression on Kamilah's face. At the same moment, she sensed the change that occurred in the whole memory. The darkness associated with it seemed to fade away as the lightness peeked into it.

Her wife's features softened like those words moved something inside her. As if Kamilah didn't even consider this possibility before. As if the idea of suffering the consequences wasn't meant for her.

But as soon as the metamorphosis appeared, the equally fast it vanished into thin air.

"Maybe I will," she said, tilting her head to the side, licking her lips. "But as you so rightly pointed out," she reached the man, tightening the grip on his throat. "You're going to be long dead until then."

***

"I can't," the woman kept begging, sweat on her forehead.

Their feet touched the water that appeared to be salvation at that very moment. The ocean was cooling them both down, strengthening the connection as they were falling further into its grasp. The sky above them became dark far sooner, and the moon stayed as their only companion in this journey for forgiveness.

"One more," Amy's voice slipped away, wandering on the surface of the water.

It was fading away little by little, the same as her presence until darkness fell on them this one last time.

***

Blood lust.

She tried her best to regain control, to follow Adrian's rules. To cut down drinking blood to just from those who agreed on it. And never to the point of killing a person.

Humans are our priority, we need to protect them.

Those were Adrian's words that kept flashing back as she was holding the woman pinned against the wall in the dark alley. All weak and miserable, not able to struggle, to fight back. The only thing left was to kill her, to take the sip of the blood she desired so badly.

Kamilah lost her battle once more.

She remembered going outside for a walk as she always did after the sun went down. And it must have happened again, she must have blacked out. And as every time before, she snapped out of it right before causing another death.

At the very moment, she wasn't able to control herself anymore.

She needed to feed, she wanted to kill.

Amy was standing on the other side of the alley, watching her in silence. She was so sure that this memory was crucial in the journey on which she took Kamilah with herself. She wanted to believe that it was the moment of her change.

An actual call for redemption.

"Mommy?" a faint voice reached them from behind.

"Sweetheart..." the woman managed to cough up, her vocal cords were struggling under the grip. "Don't...please...run...away!"

But her attempts went to waste since Kamilah turned around immediately, facing the little girl. She let go of her previous victim, not bothering about the intensity of the fall that fractured her ribs. The vision went blurry before the woman's eyes, but she gathered all the strength she had left and focused on saving her daughter.

"Stay away from her!" a heartbreaking scream traveled through the alley.

But Kamilah kept getting closer to the child, moving smoothly and quietly like a predator approaching its prey. But this time, something seemed wrong. With each step, thirst for blood was weakening, along with the realization that was forming itself inside her head.

"Mommy?" the same word, followed by growing fear.

The little girl in front of Kamilah might have been six years old at best. She was too young and innocent to understand what was happening there.

But at the same time, old enough to stay by her mother's side. Old enough to show loyalty and understand love.

Love...

"Please, don't harm her," the woman cried out, unable to move.

That's when something moved inside Kamilah's heart.

The guilt spread all over her chest. Years of killing... thousandths of victims...

It all hit her at once, forcing her legs to bend. Her body to fall on the knees before this little human being.

She got lost in the view of those teary eyes of the child. The ones in which she saw something she had never considered before... a future.

A life that she had the power to end,

to step on,

crush it completely, leaving nothing behind.

And this power frightened Kamilah for the first time.

For the first time, she showed mercy.

***

"It's over," Amy held the woman sobbing in her arms.

The ocean was reflecting the beauty of this starry night in its smooth like a mirror surface. Accepting all the tears, letting them mix with the water, to pass into oblivion.

"You saw me there," Kamilah said, pulling back. "You saw what a monster I am," she swallowed, feeling the blood of the people she killed in her throat.

The girl moved her hand slowly to Kamilah's face, choosing silence. She caressed her cheek with tenderness, feeling the tension leaving her wife's body under her touch.

"I saw much more," Amy's voice was shaky, but she knew what needed to be said. "I can't deny the truth, Kamilah. You caused the suffering of many people," she found woman's hands under the water. "But their deaths must not be in vain. You can make them mean something, and you're already doing that."

"How..." Kamilah's eyes were letting go of all tears that she held back for such a long time.

"You've changed," Amy lifted their hands above the water, fingers entwined. "You've saved a lot of people, you've saved me. And those hands," she lifted them higher. "The blood will keep showing up, reminding about itself," their eyes met, shining like stars. "But I'm here to help you wash it off every single time it happens."

Amy kissed the knuckles of her wife's hands. She moved on the top of it, leaving the path of soft kisses on her skin. Her tears were flowing down as if they were the key to wash away all the guilt.

To bring peace, even for a moment.

"We can do this," Amy looked at her with eyes full of understanding and patience. "Together."

Kamilah took in what she had heard hundreds of years before. The letters that preached to be the beginning of her dream life but in the end turned out to be poisonous.

That time she knew it would be different. She trusted with all her heart that her wish would be fulfilled.

So a single word slipped out, drifting on the surface of the ocean to reach her beloved.

"Together."

#choices fic #kamilah sayeed #kamilah x mc #bloodbound kamilah #bloodbound mc #bb kamilah #bloodbound choices #bloodbound fic #choices fanfiction #kamilah sayeed fic #kamilah bb #bb mc #one-shot fic #please read the warnings #checking if it'll appear in the tags this time...

[redschillzone]

Smoke and Mirrors Pt. 6 (Sith!Rey x Female!Reader)

(Gif found here!)

Pairing: Sith!Rey x Female!Reader

Word Count: 4.8k Words

Warnings: Angst Ahead

Summary: Returning to Exegol to face Palpatine, reader has one chance to convince Rey to join her.

Tag List: @theallseer97 @maah-sama​ @thekarliwinchester @dversstark​

A/N: Here is part 6! I hope you guys enjoy it. There’s one more part after this one, then that’ll be it for this fic!

The x-wing jumped out of lightspeed, giving her the same sight she saw when she first left Exegol. Her eyes scanned over the large array of Star Destroyers, the only difference was they were getting ready for flight; To take the fight off world and to all neutral and Resistance planets to wipe them out in the name of the Final Order. (Y/N) couldn’t help but let out a breath as she gripped the controls of the x-wing, glancing down at the Sith wayfinder that resided on the dash. The Resistance was following, she could tell; She felt Ben’s presence in the force growing closer as she flew, getting the x-wing ready to land. As she flew closer to where Palpatine resided, she could sense the change around her; Everything felt different to her now even though she had just been here hours before, resting in Rey’s bed and awaiting her return. She shook her head gently; Now was not the time to be thinking of her, of such things. She landed the x-wing just outside the temple, letting out a silent breath as she stared at the wide entrance to the temple for a few moments. She was scared, to say the least, but she also felt determined. This was her destiny, she knew that now; But it was a scary one. One that she herself didn’t think she’d take on, yet here she was. 

She was slow to get out of the x-wing; Removing her helmet as she pushed herself up and jumped down from the cockpit. She landed on the ground with a small ‘thud’ before she glanced around the barren space, letting out yet another small breath before she began to make her way forward. The sand below her kicked up as she walked, glancing towards the occasional lightning strike nearby. When she first arrived she remembered how she jumped whenever the lightning struck at the ground as it was always unexpected, but now that she had grown used to the strikes it was like second nature to her not to jump. She had gotten used to feeling the impact from the lightning strike touch the ground, to hear it crackle and screech around her. Even as she made her way to the rock-like elevator platform that led her down to the lower levels she didn’t flinch as the lightning continued to crackle. She could hear it though; The far off shots of the ion cannons firing and the roaring of various ship engines. The Resistance had arrived just as Luke had told her they would, and she couldn’t help but let out a breath as the platform began to lower her down. Would they survive this? It felt like a suicide mission to her; To take on the Final Order with so few ships and willing soldiers. Maybe before they arrived Ben had given some sort of inspirational speech of some kind to give everyone hope; If not him then maybe Poe and Finn, they were always good at that kind of thing.

(Y/N) couldn’t help but shake her head of the thought as she began to make her way down the long temple halls, glancing around quietly. She had only been here once before, when Rey first arrived with her. (Y/N) didn’t get to meet Palpatine herself which she had no problems with; She didn’t exactly want to come face to face with one of the greatest threats in the galaxy anyway. Rey said it was far too dangerous for him to know that they were a dyad, even though he might have already known, and that she would explain that (Y/N) was some force sensitive she found while out on a mission and brought back to train as her apprentice. (Y/N) had just agreed to the plan, letting her go off to talk to her grandfather while she waited back by the platform with the Knights of Ren. But this was different now; Rey wasn’t here to save her, to come up with some story to tell her grandfather to cover their tracks. She was no longer Rey’s apprentice, but she wasn’t exactly a Jedi either; She was a mix of the two. She walked the very thin line between the two forces; She wanted peace, but she knew there couldn’t be such a thing without destruction and war. That there couldn’t be light without the dark, it was just how it went; But if her father believed her to be a Jedi, then in this moment that’s what she would be.

(Y/N) continued to walk cautiously through the temple, looking around at the statues and various fallen walls around the area. She only slowed when she spotted a large group of machines and various groups of technology that she was sure she didn’t know what half of it was, or how any of it even worked. She couldn’t help but bite her lip as she stepped closer to look it all over. Most of it was covered in several layers of dust even though it all seemed to be functional and recently used. As she walked around the machines she couldn’t help but glance up at the yellow-orange liquid and jumped as her eyes landed on one of the clones within the machine. 

“That’s.. Very creepy..” She mumbled to herself before she backed away and began to make her way deeper into the temple. She could still hear the occasional lighting strike around her but it wasn’t long before she began to hear voices; Those far ahead of her but she could make out what was being said and she couldn’t help but tense a bit at the voice.

“What do you mean you don’t know where she went?!” The feminine voice snapped at the end of the long, rocky hallway; It was Rey. (Y/N) couldn’t help but slow as she reached the main area of the temple, hiding behind what remained of a fallen statue as she listened in to the conversation.

“I have told you what I know, grandchild.. Now, what you do with that is not something I control.” Palpatine spat back at her, to which Rey couldn’t help but grit her teeth and tighten her hold on her lightsaber, long since ignited since she arrived. (Y/N) was gone and nobody seemed to have known where she went. She had returned after a long, draining fight on the planet of Kijimi with the Resistance and she wanted nothing more than to take (Y/N) and leave Exegol; To leave the fight to her grandfather and the Final Order.

“You know something, you’re just not telling me.” Rey spat once more as she took a step closer to Palpatine, her eyes narrowed as her knuckles began to turn white around the double bladed saber. Palpatine couldn’t help but frown at his granddaughter's actions and gently shook his head. 

“I told you, I don’t.” He admitted once more, watching as Rey turned away from him and began to pace in front of him. There was silence between them, all that could be heard was the roaring of engines above them and Rey’s footsteps.

“Don’t make me kill you.” She threatened after a few short minutes, but all Palpatine could do was laugh before he spoke up once more.

“You want to kill me? That is what I want. Kill me and my spirit will pass into you, as all the Sith live in me.... You will be Empress, Rey. We will be one.” He told her, watching as Rey slowed to a stop in front of him. He was right and she knew it. If she did kill him, his spirit would just take over her body and the Palpatine legacy would continue; She was stuck and she hated it, but just as she was about to speak she caught a form moving off to the side. She couldn’t help but turn her head in their direction, her eyes narrowed as she raised her lightsaber in their direction.

“Who’s there?” She spat, watching as the form carefully made their way over from behind the fallen statue. As they got closer, Rey couldn’t help but let out a breath; (Y/N) was okay and she was making her way over to them, but even Rey could sense in the force that something was off. Her eyes landed on the two lightsabers attached to (Y/N)’s hip and gave a frown.

“(Y/N).. What are you doing?” She questioned, watching as she kept her distance from the two of them. (Y/N) couldn’t help but swallow hard as she glanced between Rey and Palpatine, glancing at the large mechanical arm that held the Emperor up and more than likely helped keep him alive. (Y/N) glanced towards Rey, letting out a breath before she began to answer.

“I’m here to put an end to this.” (Y/N) spoke cautiously, watching as Rey frowned at her and Palpatine laughed.

“You? Rey is she not the one you took on as an apprentice?” He questioned, to which Rey couldn’t help but tense up, turning to face him.

“She is-” She began to speak but Palpatine spoke up over her.

“If she is your apprentice, why is she turning on you?” He questioned, tilting his head slightly to the side. Rey couldn’t help but bite her bottom lip; She herself didn’t know. She thought she had secured (Y/N) on her side, that she would stay there for as long as Rey was live. But clearly that wasn’t the case now. 

“I don’t know-” Rey continued, to which Palpatine looked towards (Y/N), his eyes narrowed on her form as she reached for the lightsabers attached to her hips.

“And what do you plan to do, child..?” Palpatine questioned as (Y/N) held onto the sabers tightly, biting her lip as she ignited them.

“As I said, I plan to end this. I want to get rid of the Final Order, of you.” She spoke to Palpatine before she glanced at Rey, letting out a breath before she looked back to Palpatine. She didn’t want to involve Rey in this, she still loved her but she knew if she wanted this to end the right way, Rey would be heavily involved. Now on which side Rey would fight on, (Y/N) didn’t know, she just hoped that during this fight she could persuade her to join her. Rey just watched silently, a saddened look in her eyes as she glanced to Palpatine who couldn’t help but laugh once more.

“Oh dear child, you’ve lost your way. You will never be able to stop this.” He spoke, to which (Y/N) glanced back as she began to hear more voices and her eyes widened as she spotted the large crowd of disciples just behind her. How did she not notice them before? Had they been there the whole time? She couldn’t tell, she was having trouble beginning to think straight anymore. She turned back to face Rey and Palpatine, her grip tight on the lightsabers.

“Look above you.” Palpatine spoke as a loud rumbling went through the area and (Y/N) looked up, noticing the opening now at the top of the temple and she let out a breath at what she saw; The Resistance fighting against the Final Order. Various ships exploded in the sky, but it was hard for her to make out exactly which side was which, but she could tell who was winning this war and she felt her stomach drop.

“They don’t have long.. No one is coming to help them. And you are the one who led them here… So go ahead, strike me down. Let Rey take the throne… Let her reign over a new Empire..” Palptine spoke as he watched (Y/N) closely; She was hesitating, and that was a good thing for him. It was what he wanted. Rey noticed it as well, as she occasionally shifted her gaze to Palpatine then to (Y/N) once more. 

“Only you have the power to save them… Refuse, and your friends die..” Palpatine finished, waiting for (Y/N) to give her answer. He was right, they were on the losing side of this war. She was right about earlier, this was nothing more then a suicide mission. She sighed and turned to face Palpatine once more. She turned off the lightsabers in her hands and gave a small nod to which Rey couldn’t help but glance away. It was then that the disciples around them began to chant and the guards that stood nearby came closer to (Y/N) to make sure she didn’t attempt anything. She couldn’t help but glare at them as they stood beside her as Rey moved herself to stand in front of Palpatine. This was it; Rey was going to become Empress of the galaxy, but it felt so wrong to her. Everything felt wrong now and as she glanced back at (Y/N), she knew what she had to do.

“Let the ritual begin!” Palpatine shouted as he looked at his granddaughter with a wicked smile, all while she wore a frown. She watched the man in front of her as he continued to speak.

“She will strike me down and pledge herself as a Sith. She will draw her weapon and come to me.” He spoke, watching as Rey ignited her saber once more and stepped closer. (Y/N) couldn’t help but grit her teeth, going to take a step forward but the guards moved their weapons closer to her, more than ready to shoot which caused (Y/N) to remain where she was, her lip bit as she watched what was happening in front of her. 

“And with a stroke of her saber.... the Sith are reborn! The Jedi are dead!” He spat, giving a glare towards (Y/N) as Rey began to raise her lightsaber, as if to strike Palpatine down but she hesitated; She stilled her body as she thought it through. If she were to strike him down, would she still be in control of her own body afterwards? If she did go through with it, would (Y/N) still be around afterwards? She couldn’t help but let out a breath as she tightened her hold on the lightsaber; She needed to make a choice and it needed to be soon. It was then that she felt it, the dyad with (Y/N) pulling at her. Rey slowly turned her head to glance back at her, (Y/N)’s eyes on her. Her (e/c) eyes were pleading with her, telling her not to do it; That they would be able to take him down together if she didn’t do it. Taking her bottom lip in between her teeth, (Y/N) gave a small nod; As if telling her to join her. 

Rey looked towards Palpatine once more, getting ready to make the strike.

“Do it! Make the sacrifice!” Palpatine spoke, putting his head up towards the sky and closing his eyes; More than ready to die and start a new legacy. It was then Rey decided to make her move. She turned, throwing her lightsaber behind her. (Y/N) ducked quickly, watching the lightsaber fly over her head to take out the two guards that stood beside her and prevented her from doing anything. Rey caught her lightsaber as it flew back to her; It was then that Palpatine realized what was going on and used the machine to move away from them, the rest of the guards stepping forward to fight. Rey moved herself to (Y/N) who turned her back to her, igniting the lightsabers once more and the two were back to back once more.

“I’m so sorry Rey.” (Y/N) started, going and blocking a few gunshots from the guards. Rey couldn’t help but chuckle lightly as she began to spin her saber. 

“Don’t be, let’s just get this over with.” Rey responded before she lunged forward and began to attack the rest of the guards. The two girls fought for a few moments before the final guard dropped to the ground. (Y/N) glanced up at Rey, watching her before she gave a small nod. Rey couldn’t help but give a small smile and a nod in return before she turned to face Palpatine once more, spinning her lightsaber and getting ready to fight; (Y/N) doing the same, ready for any attack he may give out. Palpatine couldn’t help but frown, watching Rey with narrowed eyes.

“You dare turn against me…? Very well then. Stand together, die together!” He spat before he held his hands out, incapacitating Rey and (Y/N) in one go via the force, their sabers flying and scattering across the ground before the two were placed on their knees just before Palpatine. It was only a few seconds before a bit of Force Energy was drained from the duo and Palpatine jerked suddenly; He watched his mangled hands as they slowly but surely began to become whole once more. Rey and (Y/N) couldn’t do anything but just watch, their movements still restrained.

“The lifeforce of your bond.... A dyad in the Force… A power like life itself. Unseen for generations. And now....” He spoke as he glanced up to the two in front of him, a wicked look in his eyes.

“The power of two... restores the one, true Emperor.” He spat before he held his hands out once again and began to drain the two of their Force Energy; And all they could do was allow it. They were frozen to the spot, their Force Energy being drained away. Rey couldn’t help but shut her eyes tightly; She had messed up, and because of that the two of them were going to die. After a few moments, Palpatine stopped and the two dropped to the ground. (Y/N) knocked out against the ground as Rey groaned lowly, her eyes tightly shut.

“Look what you have made…” Palpatine spoke as he freely walked; His body rejuvenated and free of the machine he was once attached too. His disciples continued to chant their words and Palpatine just smiled and looked around as they did so. Rey couldn’t help the small grunt that came from her as she began to move to her hands and knees, but it wasn’t long before she was raised up by the force, Palpatine glaring at her now.

“I took you in.. Raised you to take over the Galaxy.. And this is how you repay me?” He spat, watching as Rey gritted her teeth and attempted to free herself, but it was no luck.

“Very well then.. I have no need for you any longer.” He spoke before he used the force to throw her away, watching as she collided with the ground before falling off the cliff and into the void below; A strike of lightning soon followed after her. Palpatine watched, making sure she didn’t return before he turned and made his way back to his throne, sitting upon it and looking up at the sky towards the raging fight above him before he spoke once more.

“Do not fear that feeble attack my faithful. Nothing will stop the return of the Sith!” Palpatine spoke as he raised his arms to the sky and sent out a large bundle of electricity; It struck the various Resistance ships and cut them off from their power, freezing a few mid air before they began to fall to the ground. (Y/N) slowly opened her eyes, rolling onto her back and stared up at the sky, watching as the ships were being destroyed by Palpatine’s lightning. All she could do was watch as tears began to well in her eyes; She failed. She had failed the Resistance, she failed herself; But most of all, she failed her father. She couldn’t help but shut her eyes tightly, the tears freely falling from her face before she recalled her father's words; Of how he would always be there for her when she needed him. And right now, she desperately needed him.

“Be with me.. Be with me…” She mumbled to herself, opening her eyes once more to stare at the sky. She repeated the words a few more times before she began to hear voices and her eyes couldn’t help but widen a bit.

“These are your final steps, (Y/N). Rise and take them.” Obi-wan spoke to her.

“(Y/N).” Anakin, Ahsoka, and Kanan called out to her before Anakin spoke once more. 

“Bring back the balance, (Y/N), as I did.” He told her; All she could do at the moment was listen, slowly but surely feeling her strength return to her as she listened to the Jedi of the past.

“In the night, find the light, (Y/N)...” Luminara spoke.

“You’re not alone, (Y/N)..” Mace spoke in a serious tone before Yoda spoke up soon after him. “Alone, never have you been.”

“Every Jedi who ever lived lives in you.” Qui-gon spoke up before Anakin spoke once more. “The Force surrounds you, (Y/N).” Anakin spoke once more, doing his best to reach out to her.

“Let it guide you.” Aayla told her. “As it guided us.” Ahsoka spoke again. “Feel the Force flowing through you, (Y/N).” Mace told her, Anakin talking again. “Let it lift you.”

“Rise, (Y/N).” Adi spoke, to which (Y/N) rolled over, slamming her palm against the ground as they continued to talk to her; Telling her to rise and fight. To believe in the Jedi and everything they had. She slowly pushed herself up, breathing heavily as she glanced up, hearing her father’s voice, tears running down her face once more.

“(Y/N)... the Force will be with you, always.” He spoke to her, almost reassuring her once more. It was the final push she needed as she stood up; Extending her right arm out, she used the force to call for one of the lightsabers. The lightsaber came at her at a fast pace and she caught it within her hand and glanced at the lightsaber; It was her father’s. She let out a breath before she ignited it and watched as Palpatine turned his head to look at her with a frown. 

“Let your death be the final word.... In the story of the Rebellion.” He spoke as he slowly rose from the throne and held his hands out in front of him once more, shooting the electricity from them as he walked closer to her. (Y/N) was quick to block the attack, the lightsaber absorbing the lightning but it wasn’t enough. She knew this as her hand struggled to keep a tight grip on the lightsaber as Palpatine all but increased the power behind his attack.

“You are nothing! A fallen Jedi is no match for the power in me. I am all the Sith!” He spat as he increased his attack once more, watching as (Y/N)’s feet began to skid back across the ground. She needed to put an end to this, she needed to find Rey and get out of here. Grunting as she slid across the ground once more, she reached her hand out behind her, beginning to use the force to call Leia’s saber to her.

“And I…” She spoke, feeling the lightsaber in her hand as she gripped it tightly.

“Am all the Jedi.” (Y/N) spoke as she spun the saber out and combined it with Luke’s, crossing the blades and beginning to rickashay the attack back to Palpatine. She took a couple steps and put all her strength into it, watching as the lightning began to slowly but surely disintegrate Palpatine’s body. With an extra push from the force, Palpatine was killed and the throne behind him destroyed. It wasn’t long before the lightning strikes began to happen around her, knocking down several statues and killing the disciplines that were just behind her. 

(Y/N) let out a breath as she began to glance around her; Palpatine was defeated, what remained of the Final Order being taken care of by the Resistance just above her. She couldn’t help but begin to feel weak, her grip on the lightsabers slowly loosening as she dropped them to the floor. Eventually her body followed, colliding to the ground with a thud before she took her final breath, her body stilling just as the breath was exhaled. 

Rey couldn’t help but grunt as she pulled herself up onto the cliff, breathing heavily as blood ran down the side of her head. She bit her lip as she glanced around her; Her grandfather was gone, the disciples killed. Everything was gone, just like that. She huffed as she got herself to her feet, beginning to limp over to where (Y/N) laid. Her heart began to race; She wasn’t moving. She wasn’t breathing and Rey could feel her life in the force beginning to slip away. 

“No- Nonono-” She spoke as she fell beside (Y/N), quickly pulling her lifeless form into her lap. A few tears began to form as Rey glanced around the place; This couldn’t be happening, this couldn’t be happening. She couldn’t live her life without (Y/N), there was just no way. She realized it the moment she returned from Kijimi. She wanted to leave everything she knew behind, she wanted to run away with (Y/N) and live a life far from all this, far from the Final Order and from the Resistance. But now, as she held (Y/N)’s body close to her, she knew it wouldn’t happen. She couldn’t help but let a sob escape her as she buried her in her neck, keeping her as close as she could as she began to rock them both.

“(Y/N)...” A male voice spoke and Rey whipped her head up, staring with wide, teary eyes towards Ben Solo; He looked just as bad as they did, covered in dried blood and dirt, along with several cuts and potential bruises. He more than likely took up the fight with the Knights of Ren to get here, and she couldn’t help but let out a breath of her own as she tightened her hold on (Y/N). Ben let out a shaky breath as he began to make his way over to the two, going and kneeling beside them cautiously as he watched Rey.

“Empress..” He spoke with a low, dangerous tone, his hand hovering just above his lightersaber and Rey couldn’t help but frown at his action.

“I don’t respond to that title anymore.” Rey spat to him, moving her free hand up to wipe at her eyes as she carefully laid (Y/N) down, staring into her (e/c) eyes that had yet to close. Ben stared down at her as well, letting out a breath before he glanced at Rey.

“I’m sure you know what I want to do. And I know you know how to do it as well.” Ben spoke, to which Rey gave a small nod. It was very risky to attempt it, but at this point it was a risk she was willing to take. Letting out a shaky breath, Rey lifted a hand and placed it onto (Y/N)’s side, shutting her eyes as she slowly began to pass some of her force energy into her. Ben began doing the same, placing his hand on the other side of the girl and emitting the same force energy. The two were quiet for a while before they began to feel (Y/N)’s presence return to the force. They stopped then and there, looking down at the girl as she slowly shut her eyes, mumbling a simple name as she passed out.

“Rey…” She muttered, to which Rey couldn’t help but feel the tears welling in her eyes yet again. She carefully got to her feet and glanced at Ben, a saddened look in her eyes.

“Go ahead and take her; Take her back to the Resistance and when she wakes up, tell her we’ll meet again soon. Please Solo..” Rey pleaded to Ben, who stared at her with somewhat widened eyes; He never would have thought she would be pleading with him about this matter, but here they were. He gave a small nod, going ahead and picking up (Y/N) bridal style, being careful of her wounds.

“We’ll take care of her.. I promise.” He spoke, keeping (Y/N) close to his body as Rey gave a nod.

“Whenever you’re ready… Either come to Ajan Kloss or send her a message.. I’m sure she’ll be waiting.” Ben spoke, turning away and began to make his way out of the temple. Rey gave the two one last look before she turned away and began to limp away to where her spare ship resided. She would meet with (Y/N) again soon, but she needed some time till then. 

#Star Wars #Rey x Reader #Rey x Female!Reader #Sith!Rey x Reader #Sith!Rey x Female!Reader #Empress!Rey x Reader #Empress!Rey x Female!Reader #The Force Awakens #The Last Jedi #The Rise of Skywalker #Daisy Ridley #Daisy Ridley x Reader #Daisy Ridley x Female!Reader #Sith!Rey #Empress!Rey #Rey Skywalker #Rey Palpatine

[crimson-snowfall]

[Birthday Fic, NSFW] Fiery

Hello everyone, so I wasn’t really planning on writing a birthday fic for Leonardo since I’m not that much of Leo stan, but since @mikotomizuki asked me for a Leo smangst (lol kinda hard to resist this hoe) and I just so happened to be in the mood when she asked me... this happened. I told her it’s just gonna be short since it was totally unplanned so I don’t know how the fuck I ended up writing ~1.8k words (which is definitely longer than my average fics)

Genre: Smangst (Smut + Angst)

Word Count: 1840 

Warnings/Tags: profanity, a little bit of femdom i guess, choking, nipple stimulation, rough sex, vaginal sex, 3rd person POV 

It had been a few decades since Leonardo moved out of Le Comte's mansion, and the main reason behind this sudden decision is currently pinning him down on the floor, pressing the blunt edge of a dagger against his neck. The woman wore a devilish grin as she straddled him beneath her, on the other hand the pureblood in question simply had a rather entertained smile on his lips.

"Feisty as ever, I see." Leonardo knocked the dagger of Arthemis' hands, earning himself a look of absolute displeasure.

"Yeah, and you're as bland as ever," Artemis sneered as she reached for the memento of her days as a vampire hunter, sheathing it back on its holster, before finishing off with what Leonardo has come to consider the woman's choice of endearment for him, "...you filthy pureblood."

Artemis got off of him, slamming the door on his face before he could even get on his feet. He found her lounging comfortably on the couch when he came in, but just as when he was about to take the vacant spot next to her, she laid down and deliberately took up as much space as her little form could cover. Leonardo chuckled in amusement before settling down on the armrest on one end of the couch.

"You know cara mia, I wouldn't mind getting a welcome home kiss every now and then." Naturally, his suggestion was met with immediate repudiation.

"Never. Also, watch those hands or I'll cut them off," Artemis growled, and Leonardo's hands just momentarily paused in their tracks. After briefly gauging her mood, his hands promptly resumed their northbound expedition, his calloused fingers ticklish against her soft legs.

His grumpy lover glared daggers at him, and just as when his prying hands were about to reach her thighs, she reluctantly readjusted herself on the couch. Leonardo wasted no time occupying the now vacant spot, before draping his arms over her shoulder, pulling her closer to him.

"Tch. Ridiculous how you ask me why I keep calling you a filthy pureblood when you always play dirty." She may be stiff in his embrace, but at least she wasn't downright turning him away.

"I haven't seen you in a week, cara mia. How is wanting a little bit of your love and attention considered playing dirty?"

Artemis rolled her eyes. "Yeah. A week. Immortality must be really tough. Too bad not even we vampire hunters could put an end to your eternal thirst."

Leonardo leaned down to press a kiss on his grumpy lover's cheeks. "Well, I do agree with you that it's rather unfortunate. However, I don't think I'll ever want to have any blood other than yours, and you know what? Maybe I can die too."

This time, Artemis gave her an incredulous look while wiping the spot on her cheeks that he had just kissed. "You know what? I hate you. You've got guts implying you can die when even the most surefire extermination methods don’t work on you.”

Leonardo simply shrugged off her tirade, before capturing her lips in a devouring kiss. She hates him, she says, but if anything, it didn't really take long for it to be evident that she probably didn't mean a single thing she said with how decisively she turned the tides as their tongues battled for dominance. The forsaken vampire hunter has always been a good kisser– probably the only woman in existence that can leave Leonardo gasping for his breath.

The fact that the vampire hunters sent her after him was likely their way of forcing her into her retirement. The average lifespan of a vampire hunter lasts for a couple of centuries, and Artemis has lived way past her retirement age. So one day, the vampire hunters gave her an impossible mission: to discover the method on how purebloods can be exterminated, and should she fail to bring the corpse of one in the span of a year, then she is to lose her honor as a vampire hunter and exit the extermination scene.

There are still times when Leonardo genuinely wonders if Artemis is still holding his 'non-killability' against him, when he would gladly drop dead for her if that's what would make her happy. Sure, it may not be fair on him, but when has he ever cared about those kinds of things? Besides, nothing can be more unfair than being subject to the cruel fate of being unable to die.

Leonardo's hands had found their way to massage Artemis' inner thigh as she busied herself suffocating him with the ferocity of their kiss. Unfortunately, before he could even make an attempt to venture deeper, he found himself once again pinned down, only this time against the couch and not on their doorstep.

"Hey bloodsucker," Artemis arrogantly called him out, "do you want me to love you?" Or so she asks, but with how fast the buttons on his shirt is flying off, Leonardo just knew that the question was purely rhetorical.

"Yes," Leo purred out, "love me into oblivion, cara mia."

"As you wish, my filthy pureblood." Perhaps it's the natural athleticism of vampire hunters, but it never fails to amaze Leonardo just how fast Artemis could strip both of them of their clothes.

Rubbing her wetness against his massive length, she began lapping up every inch of skin on his torso, leaving behind a trail of love marks where she felt like it. She'd always loved giving his nipples the special attention it craves, and this time was no different– she flicked it over and over again with her little tongue while staring him down, satisfying the remnants of her predatory nature with the vulnerable look on her pureblood's face.

"Are you trying to milk me, cara mia?" Leo asked breathlessly as he reached out to set aside stray locks of her hair away from her face, before traveling down to seize her breasts, twirling her nipples in reciprocation of her gesture.

"Just shut up and enjoy it." With those words, Leonardo felt his cock slide up into Artemis' dripping wet core, a gasp of pleasure escaping her lips as it stretched her insides. Her hands slowly made their way to perfectly curl around his neck as she rode him out, sending him into a distinctive haze of pleasure.

"Fuck," Leonardo groaned as he watched his cock fuck her sweet pussy, "you're as tight as ever, cara mia." Leonardo squeezed her ass in his enrapturement, and the hands wrapped around his neck tightened their old on him in response.

"And you're as lewd and as filthy as ever," Artemis mewled out as she devoured every bit of Leonardo's salacious expression, increasing her pace with each groan of pleasure ripping through the pureblood's throat. 

Her pace morphed into a frenzied one in no time, and she kept on wildly bouncing up and down his deliciously massive cock until she was completely taken over by the violent waves of her throbbing orgasm, her body convulsing as she soaked him with her sweet release.

Leonardo didn't gave her any chance to fall limp on top of him however, and in the blink of an eye Artemis was on her knees as her lover viciously pounded her from behind. Curses immediately filled the room as she lashed out on him over her loss of control, and smashing his lover until all the curses were replaced by nothing but his name has become Leonardo's greatest self-indulgence in the recent decades.

Being the prideful woman she is, she doesn't give in so easily, and that's exactly what makes it even more satisfying for Leonardo. The pureblood would've made her orgasm several times and she would've been a disheveled mess by the time she can no longer resist the urge to scream out his name, chanting it over and over again as though it were some prayer.

"Leonardo, please...!"

"Please what, cara mia?" Leonardo asked with a triumphant smirk as he slowly pulled out, before thrusting all the way back in with a ferocious intensity, his name escaping her lips once more in a lewd moan.

"F-fill me up, Leonardo. I want y-your filthy pureblood c-cum inside me," she cried out desperately, saying it just loud enough as to not have him make her repeat those words again.

"Now that's a good girl," Leonardo leaned forward to kiss her roughly, and complying with her wishes, he finally stopped holding back. He fucked her with with an unforgiving intensity until his hot, white release filled her up as they came together, before his body came crashing down on her.

Once she has recovered from their orgasm, she began complaining over his weight on her. "Hey bloodsucker, are you trying to kill me? You're crushing me down here."

With a low chuckle, Leonardo turned them over so that she's resting her head on top of his chest. "Better?"

"No," she denies even as she snuggles closer up against him, one hand pulling hardly on his cheeks, "you're an old geezer and you stink like one."

"Really now," Leonardo took her hand and began licking her wrists, not taking his eyes off of hers as his tongue trailed over her pulse, as though waiting for her permission.

"Just do it, really," she averted her eyes to hide her embarrassment and bit back the sound that threatened to escape her lips as he bit her down, the pleasure washing over her more than enough proof for her that she could no longer return to being a vampire hunter even if she wanted to.

After having his fill of her, Leonardo pulled her up for a loving kiss– the only one of its kind that she would always return with the slightest hints of the love she would never admit.

"I love you, cara mia," Leonardo whispered softly as his golden eyes betrayed just how much he had been longing to hear her give voice to the feelings he's certain that existed as well– but Artemis never would.

For in the same way her blood could not kill him, his bite could not turn her into a vampire– and despite their longevity, the lifespan of even the most resilient vampire hunter remains much shorter of that an average lesser vampire.

So Artemis would rather take those feelings to her grave than bind Leonardo's poor undying self with words of love.

"Too bad I'm way above mistaking my debauched, carnal desires for mushy feelings of love, my filthy pureblood," Artemis lied with a weary smile as her exhaustion finally took a toll on her, and it didn't really take much time for her to doze off peacefully on his chest.

Leonardo watched her with lonely smile on his face, combing his fingers through her messy hair, "Then I'll try my best not to yearn for those words," he murmured before allowing the comforting embrace of sleep to take him to the land of dreams.

And in his dreams, his beloved Artemis would openly profess her love for him.

#ikemen vampire #ikevamp #ikemen series #ikevamp leo #ikevamp leonardo #ikemen vampire leonardo #ikevamp fanfic #ikemen vampire fanfic #ikemen fanfic #ikevamp fanfiction #ikemen vampire fanfiction #ikemen fanficition #birthday fic

[nonbaznary]

Carry On Countdown 2020 - Day 04: Side Characters

AO3 // Keep reading on Tumblr below the cut !

Words: 802

The Tragedy of the Greatest Mage: “Icarus is mad at Simon bloody Snow, and Eurus already knows where this is going.”

Rating: General Audiences

Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply

Category: Gen

Characters: Original Characters, OCs, Eurus (Simon Snow OC), Icarus (Simon Snow OC), Simon Snow

Additional Tags: Watford (Simon Snow), Side Story, side characters, Nonbinary Character, Character Uses Neopronouns, Mentioned Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch

The Tragedy of the Greatest Mage

Icarus was very fucking angry.

Eurus knew what to look for to confirm that their best friend was moments away from exploding. Hir face was burning with anger, and Eurus tried not to smile when they noticed how messy Icarus’s dark hair was – meaning zie was so annoyed zie had been pulling at hir curls.

When zie sat by Eurus’s side, though, zie didn’t do anything scandalous. Zie simply put hir plate down, took a deep breath, turned to them friend and smiled, annoyance obvious in hir glare.

— Hello, darling.— Eurus greeted hir, what zie promptly ignored.

— I — zie spoke slowly.— am going to murder the Mage’s Heir.— and zie turned back to hir food.

Eurus’s eyes sparkled with curiosity.

— You are murdering the Chosen One?— they scoffed.— Have you seen yourself? You can barely lift your wand.— Icarus rolled hir eyes at Eurus’s cheeky remarks.— Fine, I’ll bite. What did Simon Snow do?— Icarus opened hir mouth to reply, but not before Eurus added a muttered “this time”.

Icarus chuckled sarcasticly.

— He — zie paused, for dramatic purposes.— got me my lowest grade of the term.

Hir friend raised an eyebrow.

— How could he possibly-

— The fucking exam last week! The wanker was leaking so much magic I could barely read a sodding question, of course I was terrible at it! I wasn’t even breathing!

— Merlin.— Eurus tried to keep their expression neutral.— Was he that nervous for the exam?

— That’s the worst fucking part! Snow wasn’t even like that because of the exam, but because he was annoyed at Pitch! Who, of fucking course, was the first fucking person to finish, which only made Snow get even more worked up, and, again, of fucking course, Pitch fucking aced the exam!

— You got the results today, huh?

— Yep. And the professor wouldn’t hear a word of what I had to say.— Icarus tried hir best impression of the professor's speech.— “You claim that you got that bad grade because of the... environment, but if Mr. Snow’s magic was behaving as such due to Mr. Pitch’s actions, and Mr. Pitch managed to be at the top of the class, again, surely you should have gotten a better result, since you weren’t directly involved, don’t you think?”

Eurus shook their head sideways, a tired, apologetic smile in their face, and Icarus groaned, covering hir face with hir palms and pressing against them.

— So now I’m stuck with the shitty grade. I swear to Crowley, sometimes it feels like they don’t care about anyone else in this school. It’s always Snow and whoever else’s by his side. Llike the other students aren’t affected by his… shenanigans.— Icarus uncovered hir face and took a bite of hir food, still complaining.— I just wanted to watch my classes, not be in the same class as Simon sodding Snow. Yeah, it was cool when we were first years and he hadn’t set anything on fire yet, but I’m tired! I wanna live my little life, not be an extra in the “Greatest Mage”’s story.

— You know how it is, dear.— Eurus pat hir back.— As long as we’re in the same school as Simon Snow, we’re simply... supporting characters. Powerless, irrelevant asses, just sitting back and watching magickal history unravel in front of us. This isn’t our fight. We’re side characters in the catastrophe. Let the greatest power of powers reign, yadda, yadda.

— I’ve had enough of that. I don’t give a crap if he’s the fucking Power of Powers. I should be living my own story. I should be the main character, in my own sodding story.

— Not everyone gets to shine, you know that.

— I don’t want to shine, Eurus, I just-

— Dude. We’re watching a living legend, it should be obvious- Some people are just meant to be supporting characters, and that’s it. Simon Snow isn’t going away, and your bad grade isn’t, either. Nor do all the other countless issues our saviour – or whatever – is causing, has been causing. It’s just how things are, Iccy.

— But that’s so depressing! It’s like saying that we won’t make a difference. Everyone makes a difference. Everyone should get to be the star.

— Maybe we should all be stars, but, even if we aren’t, then Simon Snow is the fucking Sun. And there’s nothing we poor mortals can do about it.

Icarus scoffed.

— That’s-

The dining hall doors fly open with a bang, just so Simon Snow can run in, covered in sweat and maybe a little blood, sliding to his Bunce friend’s side, soon swallowing down his beloved sour cherry scones without even taking a breath. Icarus sighed loudly, and Eurus raised their eyebrows, a playful smile on their lips

— Well, would you look at that. Just when you think you’re having a scene without him...

[my other works for the countdown]

#Carry On Countdown 2020 #Carry On Countdown #Simon Snow #OCs #my ocs #simon snow OCs #carry on countdown day 4 #side characters

[yeojaa]

ANGELS & AIRWAVES (w. jjk)

He's never met you but you know how he sounds when he wakes up from a nap and his greatest fears.  You know the way he sings after a shower and that he could be mistaken for a dying seal when he's laughing too hard.  The best part?  You don't judge him for any of it - including the fact he's a filthy Widow main.  He might just love you.

alt summary.  Jeon Jungkook has a big fat crush on a girl he's never met.

pairing.  jeon jungkook

genre + rating.  fluffy crack.  general, for now.

warning / tags.  long-distance relationship, crushes, canon compliant (ish),  eventual happy ending, gaming, gamer!jungkook, strangers to lovers, friends to lovers, overwatch.  tags are hard.  :( 

reading.   n/a.  a three part one-shot.

word count.  ~2750

part ii.

JUNGKOOK’S ROOM Sunday, 15 March, 2020.  2:01 AM.   

He falls for you in between the tireless teasing, the laughter that sinks into his ears and replays like a highlight reel.  It happens when he leasts expects it, when he's got his face pressed into the velvet of Yeontan's fur and you're cooing over voice chat, whispering sweet nothings to the manic panic pup.  It comes in the moments he's not expecting it to, when he's frustrated and unbearable and you're as sunny as always, spilling yellow paint across the doors he tries to keep shut.  

Bit by bit, day by day, he finds himself thinking of you more. 

First, it's wondering what you're doing while he's half-asleep and on his way to the studio.  Do you look as tired as you sound?  What colour is your hair and how does it stick up when you've just rolled out of bed?  When you yawn, do you stretch like a cat?  He thinks you do, if the sounds you make are any indication.

Then it's asking himself whether you might like the same things he does, from horror movies to carnival rides.  Would you hold his hand as you made the drop, stomachs leaping into your throats?  Would you scream?  Would it sound anything like that terrified pterodactyl noise you make when you're spawn camped by a Roadhog?  He doesn't consider the fact that he doesn't even know if you're in the same city and you'll likely never meet - bound to the servers of Overwatch only.  

He thinks about all the things he'd like to do with you.  Video game nights filled with butter-tipped fingers and spilled popcorn.  Walks with your family dog - Natto - you'd told him about, all fluffy white fur and dark teddy bear eyes.  Sunrises on the rooftop of his building, because you had the worst insomnia he'd ever seen and what better way to spend your endless waking hours than with him.  

Jeon Jungkook knows he'll probably never get any of these things, but he lets himself daydream anyway. 

Like now, for instance, as the two of you sit in another queue at 2 AM.  You just woke up and you've got that tell-tale rattle in your lungs, words sluggish and lacking any real intent.  He imagines you look the way you sound - tired and a little out of it, with barely opened eyes and sleep-loosened limbs.  

"How'd you sleep?"  He asks softly, crossing his legs beneath him and raising his arms high above his head in the same instance.  The bones of his body realign, ridges of his spine clicking into place when he knots his fingers together and pulls taut.  

"You know - the usual,"  you muse, apathetic.  It's always the same.  

He doesn't question it any further.  He had once or twice, when you'd first started talking and he'd noticed the way you were always up at inhuman times.  One grumbling response had told him enough - your schedule was what it was and no amount of remedying could fix it.  

There's a beat of silence before he hears rustling and then the loud, inescapable sound of an electric toothbrush.  You don't bother to mute your microphone, not that he minds.  He simply sits quietly, scrolling through his phone as you go about your "morning" routine.  

"How was your day?"  You're settled back at your computer, he thinks.  The acoustics sound far less like that of a bathroom.  

"I had the day off, actually."  He'd used it to edit some footage and record a cover.  He hasn't posted it to Twitter yet - there were certain times he was supposed to, to maximize visibility - but he's excited for when he does.  It's a song that's been stuck in his head for weeks, all thanks to you.

"Woah - you didn't work today?"  There's genuine surprise in your question, rounded syllables that pop off your tongue in an explosion of shock.

“Right?”  He laughs a little, short and sweet.

Despite his carefully crafted facade, there were certain plot points that just stuck, intrinsically weaved into his day-to-day whether he liked it or not.

His jam packed schedule, for instance. 

To you, it’s the result of stretching himself too thin between teaching at his friend’s dance studio (where he also apparently moonlights as a personal trainer) and working as a videographer for his media-involved friends.  Not that you know any of them.  No, no.  All the work he does is for the little guys - none of those big companies like BigHit or JYP.  Jungkook’s just your average Joe behind the camera.

“What did you do all day then?”  You’re still in awe, little flecks of wonder threaded throughout like glittering gold yarn.  

“Hung out.  Did some editing.  I’m kind of behind.”  That was an understatement.  He’s working on footage from six months ago, trying to get it out before they head on tour and he won’t have the kind of time he has now.  

“Probably spending too much time gaming.”  

“Yeah, probably.”  Not that he minds, or that he’d change it.  He savours the time you spend together, even if it has kind of messed up his sleep schedule.  

“Sorry not sorry,”  you quip, seemingly reading his mind.  

“You should be,”  he retorts with laughter that builds in his stomach and echoes out of his chest.  “I don’t think I’ve had a good night's sleep in weeks.”

If you hadn’t had this conversation a handful of times before, he thinks you might be offended.  Instead, he can practically hear you roll your eyes - imagines your optic nerve nearly severs with the intensity of it - and grins.

“Don’t kid yourself - you know I’m the best thing about your nights!”

You’re not wrong.  “You’ve been lied to.”

“I’m suing!”

“I’ll have my lawyer contact your lawyer.”

“Wait, what?” 

The two of you have done what you always do - talked yourself into a tizzy that has you both laughing, sound crackling across the airwaves.  It’s nonsensical and silly but it feels good.  Your bond shines with it, glitters prettily between you.

Thank god for Overwatch.

You return the conversation to a semblance of normalcy first.  “Did you listen to that song I sent?”

“Yeah.”  The briefest pause.  “It was terrible.  Hated it.”

“Oh, shut up!” 

“I’m kidding.  It was really good.”  Jungkook doesn’t tell you that he’s had it on repeat for the past few days, saved to the private playlist that’s filled with the rest of your song recommendations.  

“I know!”  You’re preening as if he’d just complimented you, clearly pleased by the praise.  He supposes it’s a pretty good endorsement regardless. 

“Got any more for me?” 

“I should just make you a playlist.”

He ignores the way his heart skips a very real beat, mimics the erratic rhythm of his fingers on his keyboard.  Because he’d absolutely love that.

“You should.”

“Really?”  You sound uncertain but maybe - just maybe - a little hopeful.  He might also just be imagining things, as he so often does with you. 

“Yeah.  Why not?”  It comes nonchalantly despite the rushing in his ears, the wave that threatens to drown him.  He can feel emotion in his chest - winged and distracting.  A kaleidoscope of butterflies fluttering away. 

You’re quiet for another second.  It feels like an eon.  “Okay, yeah.  I’ll start one and we can just add to it together.”

BIG HIT ENTERTAINMENT’S GYM Thursday, 26 March, 2020.  6:30 PM.   

“You sound like a meathead,”  you say, off-hand and disinterested.  

He loathes the grunt that squeaks past his teeth as he gently returns the dumbbells to the floor. Cue a generous chug of water and a near death experience when the liquid goes down the wrong pipe. 

Loud coughing crackles through his airpods before he’s addressing you.  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You’re grunting like a caveman.”

If your first comment hadn’t offended him, this one does.  Jungkook scoffs, tonguing the interior of his cheek as his brow furrows.  Weights are returned to his hands, rotated above each shoulder as he resumes another set of presses. 

“Do you even workout anything other than your fingers?”  He’s making a conscious effort not to make a sound, breath exhaled sharply through his nose.  It’s harder than he cares to admit but he’s also not about to give you an excuse to tease him further.  You already had way too much material.

“Don’t shame me!”  You really don’t sound that indignant.

“So, I’m right?  You’re a big couch potato who’s just jealous of my hot body?”

Now you’re incredulous.  It’s one of his favourite sounds because it comes draped in laughter, dancing around his head in the form of cartoon hearts. 

“Did you just say ‘hot body’, Jay?”

“Maybe I did.  What of it?”  He sniffs - he’s picked it up from you over the months - and your amusement doubles, giggles crashing into each other in their haste.  

“You are so, so weird.”  There’s a tenderness in your voice that he’d like to live in.  It wraps him up like a hug, tugging at his feeble little heartstrings. 

“Weird and hot.”

“You can’t just say that!”

“Why not?”  If anything, you’re the one person he can say it to.  With you, it’s the funniest joke he’s ever made.  It’s playful and silly, with no rhyme or reason.  He doesn’t have to worry about it being misconstrued or held against him. 

“You just can’t!  Only other people can say it.”  You sigh dramatically, from your chest.  “Do I have to teach you everything?”

“Everything but being healthy, probably.” 

“Har har har.”  

He can tell by how the words roll off your tongue, muffled and lacking clarity, that you’re eating.  He wonders if you’ve made pancakes - you’d been complaining about craving them just two days ago.  There are no tell-tale crunching or slurping, so he knows it isn’t your usual double whammy combo of ramyeon and Choco Boys.  

“I’ll have you know I used to run.”  Something about the way you say it makes him believe you, even though he wants to mock you a little more.  

“In gym class doesn’t count.”

“I used to run with Natto, you ass!”  Okay - so that actually sounded legitimate.

“Why don’t you still then?”

“There was an incident once.”  You’re sipping on something - likely coffee with oat milk and two pumps of hazelnut syrup.  It doesn’t matter that it’s dinner time and most people would be winding down for the evening.  “Because of my insomnia, I’d run at odd hours.  One day, some weirdo stopped me while I was running along the river.  He didn’t hurt me or anything—”  A part of him thinks you’re downplaying it but he says nothing, only waiting for you to continue.  “—but he followed me home.  I made the mistake of telling my parents and they freaked out so…” 

“So no more running by yourself.” 

“Yeah, exactly.”

“I’d run with you.”  It doesn’t mean much, but it’s the thought that counts.  

“Thanks, Jay.”  

Not for the first time, he wishes he could hear his name - his real name.  Just once.

“JUNGKOOOOOOOOOOK.”  It eats up every ounce of space of the gym, filling the room with the resounding boom of it.  How it manages to be so loud, he’s not sure.  He wishes it weren’t.  There’s no way you haven’t heard it.  

Especially not when it comes again, deafening even to his occupied ears. 

“JUNGKOOOOK-AH!”  Namjoon now, right as the double doors fly open.

Jimin’s barreling toward the alarmed maknae as he shouts.  “WE’RE DOING A VLIVE!”

Jungkook feels like his insides are melting  - his internal temperature spiking with embarrassment and worry and something that chants oh no! over and over in his head.  The tops of his ears are burning, as is the column of his throat.  A quick glance in the mirror confirms his suspicion that he is, indeed, bright tomato red.

“Jay?”  You repeat once, twice, when he doesn’t immediately answer.  “Everything okay?”

He moves with a speed he doesn’t expect, weights unceremoniously dropped on either side of him before he’s tearing his AirPods out.  “I’ve got to go. Sorry!”

He doesn’t end the Discord call a moment too soon, Jimin upon him in the next instant.  The smaller dancer is draping himself across Jungkook’s shoulders, the widest shit-eating grin on his pretty face.

“Want to join us for a VLive?”  

“No.  I’m busy.”  

“Busy with your girlfriend?”  Jimin’s wiggling his eyebrows suggestively.  He only stops when Jungkook shifts aggressively, tearing himself out from underneath the other.  

“Not my girlfriend!”  

“But you wish she was!”  

He can’t deny that, so he doesn’t bother, instead seizing his discarded weights with an embarrassed scowl permanently etched into the planes of his face.  He’s reracking them - because god, he’s not an animal - when he notices Jimin making his departure, that teasing smile replaced with something soft and edging on concern.

“What’re you going to do when we’re on tour?”

Jungkook blanches then.  You’d become such an undeniable part of his everyday life that he hadn’t even considered what it’d mean when he was busier than now, unable to spend late nights gaming with you. 

But Jimn’s already gone, leaving him and his thoughts alone.

JUNGKOOK’S ROOM Friday, 27 March, 2020.  12:05 AM. 

It’s close to midnight by the team he logs on.  Realistically, he should go to sleep.  He’s clean and worn out and his bed is calling to him like a siren at sea.  But you’re sitting alone in the channel, streaming Overwatch for no one to see, and he can’t just leave it at that.

He needs to say goodnight, like he always does. 

“Coming for my title as Headshot God?”   The quip’s off his tongue before you have a chance to acknowledge him, your laughter the first thing he hears once he’s connected.

“I’ve been waiting in this queue for seven minutes.  Seven!”  

It’s really not that bad.  The rare times you’d both queue for DPS were nearly double that.  

“Patience is key,”  he teases, slumping into his chair as he watches you click through your Hero Gallery.  You’re cruising seemingly aimlessly, roving through the different skins for your mains (Mercy, Ana, Genji, Ashe).  The silence between you is comfortable, interspersed only by the occasional munching he can only assume comes from the carrots you seem to inhale.

For all the junk you ate, you were somehow also weirdly into vegetables.  

“Patience sucks,”  you retort, matter-of-fact. 

“You know what else sucks?”  

It’s a rhetorical question and he knows you know, but because you’re you, you start listing things off just to get under his skin.  “Spiders?  Undercooked samgyupsal?  Not having coffee?  Your jokes?”

If he weren’t laughing so hard, he might’ve given you shit for making fun of his comedic genius.  He really doesn’t understand how you think he’s the unfunny one when all you do is crack puns.  

“I was actually going to say me,”  he finally manages in between those high pitched cackles of his.  

“Wait, why?”  You’re used to him having witty comebacks.

Edge of enamel worries his bottom lip and Jungkook can taste cherry Chapstick and what would be bashfulness, if it had a flavour.  “For earlier.”

You scoff, your own tinkling laughter tearing him out from inside his own head.

“It’s okay, goofball.”

He appreciates how laidback you are, never holding anything against him.  Not even when he hangs up on you or accidentally spams you with memes when you’re trying (and failing) to sleep.  “No.  I’m sorry.”  He says it earnestly, with all the meaning he can muster.  

MATCH FOUND flickers across his and your screen and you’re loading into hero selection.  He knows you’ll be too distracted once the game starts, so he’s grateful when you laugh again, sweet as summer.  

“Nothing to be sorry about.  Just tell me everything’s okay and we’re even.”  

Inhale, exhale.  Try not to tell her you have the biggest, stupidest crush on her,  he tells himself. 

“Everything’s okay.”  And he means it when he says it, though they aren’t the words he wishes he could say.  

“Good.”  

You’ve chosen Genji,  He smiles to himself when you join voice chat and the rest follow, greetings filtering in from your team members.  

“Good luck.”  You don’t need it.  He still likes to say it.

“You have an early day tomorrow, right?”  Leave it to you to remember his schedule even when he doesn’t.  

“Yeah, pretty early.”  

“Then go to bed!  I’ll still be awake when you’re up.”  

He lingers on that fact - holds it tightly in his hands so it can’t slip away.  You’d be there in the morning, just like you always were.  Knowing that stirs those same butterflies in his chest, words stolen by the overzealous beating of their wings.

You read his silence like they’re your own thoughts,  “I’m always here for you, Jay.”  

“Goodnight.”

"Sleep sweet."

notes.  this chapter is set four-ish months following the first, in case that’s not clear.  :) 

tag list.  @teawithbucky​ 

#heartsforbts #ficswithluv #goldenclosetnet #magicshopnet #bts #bts au #bts scenarios #bts imagine #bts imagines #bts fanfic #bts smut #bts fic #bts fluff #jungkook smut #jeon jungkook #jungkook #jungkook fanfic #jungkook fic #jungkook fluff #jungkook imagine #jungkook imagines #jungkook au #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #jungkook x oc #jeon jeongguk #jeon jungkook smut #work.zip #angels.doc #jungkook.doc

[itsanerdlife]

Come Back to Me 1/20

Pairing: Clint Barton x Coulson’s Daughter!Reader

Warning: Angst. Drama. Struggles. Violence? Lying. Anger. Soul shattering ache in your chest. Self hate. Doubts. Plot twist!

Everything slips right through his hands in the blink of an eye. Clint Barton can fix anything. World Ending? Save it. Bad Guys? Take ‘em out. The love of his life, his soul mate, forgetting their whole relationship? Fight even harder. She might not remember what they have. She might be confused, lost, scared, but it’ll be a cold day in hell if she thinks he’ll give up that easy. He’ll do anything he has too. Help her remember, or make her fall in love with him, all over again. But what if it’s not him that she’s getting close to this time? What if it’s a losing fight? Is he supposed to watch the woman he loves, fall for someone else? Like hell, is he letting that happen.

Tag List Is Open!!

Four Years Before

You step over the rubble covering the street. Destroyed buildings, smoke scented the air, dust hung in the air like clouds. A major portion of New York was destroyed, in the battle. But earth was still safe, so really wouldn’t you call that a win?

You follow Fury and Maria, through what is left of the Stark Tower still standing. Stepping into the elevator, Maria overrides the screen. She shifts, dropping her chin.

“Sir.” She clears her throat.

“Yes?” Fury lifts his brow at her.

“Do you think this is the time? To be adding more on to them?” She wonders.

“They just saved New York. Coulson wanted her placed, don’t you think a battle won in his honor, and carrying out his wish are the best to celebrate his life?” Fury wonders.

“You have a point.” Maria nods.

“Could have given them a few days.” You admit softly. They both look over at you, smirking.

“You missed out on the battle, might as well join in for the next one.” Fury chuckles.

The door opens and the three of you step out. Striker team, collecting the staff, Loki in God cuffs, keeping his magic shut down. The Avengers glance over, before double taking.

“Fury.” Captain Rogers tips his chin.

“Captain. Congratulations on your teams win.” Fury nods.

“Thank you Sir.” Captain Rogers nods.

“Bring your daughter to work day Hill?” Mr. Stark chuckles, eyeing you.

“Funny, Stark.” Hill gives in a dirty look.

“Meet Agent Y/N. She’ll be joining this team.” Fury smirks.

“Joining the party after the party?” Agent Barton smirks.

“I was away, handling other business.” You press your lips together.

“This doesn’t scream sketchy or anything.” Mr. Stark scoffs.

“She was gathering Agent Coulson’s will, and funeral preparations.” Fury cuts in. The team shifts.

“It’s fine. I understand it’s going to take some time to build trust here. But Phil was big fans of all of you. I feel like I know you already.” You nod, tucking a loose wave behind your ear.

“How did you know Coulson?” Agent Romanov’s head tips, watching you.

“She’s his daughter.” Agent Barton announces. Everyone looks over at him. “What? I talked to the guy often.” He shrugs. “He also has a picture of them together in his wallet and on his desk.”

“That’s me.” You smile, nodding. “Fury’s had me in training since I was old enough. Maria herself helped train me. But I’m willing to prove myself.” You hold your head up.

“Sorry for your loss ma’am.” Captain Rogers nods, swallowing hard.

“His greatest life goal, meeting you Captain Rogers.” You smile at him.

“She’s not wrong.” Agent Romanov smiles softly.

“We’re getting Shawarma.” Mr. Stark announces. “No idea what it is, but we’re going to try it. Joining us?” He gives you a small smile.

“I love to try new things.” You smirk.

“So you can tell us how, you know Coulson, being his child. He never mentioned you.” Stark wags a finger at you.

“Tony.” Rogers scolds him.

“It’s fine. Funny, he told me you were taller.” You shrug. Fury chuckles, Maria coughs into her hand. Stark smirks, Rogers presses his lips together. Romanov and Barton snicker quietly. “He said the people who needed to know about me, knew. In case anything happened.” You straighten your shoulders.

“So Shawarma?” Stark nods.

“Count me in.” You smile.

“Check in Agent.” Fury nods.

“I’ll forward the details Sir.” You nod, before following the team out.

“What was Coulson like as a father?” Stark wonders.

“Tony.” The team groans. 

“We are sorry for your loss, he was a good man.” Barton nods at you.

“He spoke highly of you Agent Barton. Thank you.” You nod.

“Of course.” He smiles, nodding.

“What?” Romanov looks between the two of you.

“He’s the one that knew about me. If anything happened.” You explain.

“Barton!” The team scoffs fill the elevator. He winks at you leaning against the wall. You press your lips together, giving a small tilt of your chin. 

---------

“Coming back with us?” Nat asks after Thor and Loki return to Asgard.

“I think I will.” You nod.

“It was nice meeting you, Agent. I look forward to working with you.” Steve shakes your hand.

“Same Captain Rogers.” You smile.

“If you ever find a collection set again, I’ll be glad to sign it for Coulson.” He smiles.

“I would love that. I’ll keep my eyes open.” You nod. Stepping away you follow Nat and Clint back to the car. Clint pulls open the door for you, ushering you in.

“Thank you.” You could feel the small smile on your lips.

“I could help you.” Clint offers when he’s behind the wheel, pulling out.

“With?” You look away from the window. Meeting his eye in the review mirror.

“Finding those cards again. Might help having a second set of eyes.” He shrugs.

“Specially ones that see so well.” You nod, a small smile on your lips.

“Oh just ask her out already Barton.” Nat throws up one hand. You slap both hands over your mouth.

“Nat!” Clint yells as you giggle into your hands.

“I know you. You would have never done it. Y/N.” She turns around looking at you. “Free for dinner?” She smirks.

“I am.” You laugh, blushing deep.

“Good, Barton will pick you up at seven.” She nods, turning back around in her seat. You burst into giggles again as Clint slaps a hand against his forehead, dragging it down the length of his face. “That wasn’t hard.” She adjusts in her seat, kicking back.

“You’re a horrible person.” Clint shakes his head.

“I like pizza.” You grin when his eyes cut up to yours in the mirror again. “Just saying.” You shrug, looking back out the window.

“Seven work?” He grins focusing on the road again.

“Perfect.” You smile, still looking out the window.

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

Everything Peaches 9/3/19 @mo320​ @courtmr​ @avxgers​ @eliza-kat​ @irepeldirt​ @jordan-ia​ @jcc04220​ @dumblani​ @nishanki1​ @allyp1023​ @joannie95​ @rogvewitch​ @rileyloves5​ @sarahp879​ @sexyvixen7​ @doctoranon​ @queentoffee @abschaffer2​ @tony-stank3​ @tomhardy41​ @bookluver01​ @drayshadow @teller258316​ @nickimarie94​ @wandressfox​ @cutekittybast​ @amandab-ftw​ @carostar2020​ @thelostallycat​ @henrietteoaks​ @nea90sweetie​ @circusofchaos​ @bettercallsabs​ @miraclesoflove​ @queenkrissy11​ @shield-agent78​ @elite4cekalyma​ @sadyoungadult​ @destiel-artemis​ @isabelcrichards​ @iwillbeinmynest​ @sweet-honey15​ @scooby-doodoo​ @chanelmadrid13​ @killerbumblebee​ @spookygrantaire​ @geeksareunique​ @supernatural508​ @itzmegaaaaaaan​ @optimistic-babes​ @elizabethaellison​ @rainbowkisses31​ @aspiringtranslator​ @mariekoukie6661​ @pure-princess-97​ @capsheadquaters​ @youclickedthislink​ @futuremrsb-r-main​ @lovemarvelousfics​ @notyourtypicalrose​ @petersunderoos96​ @loving-life-my-way​ @itsy-bitsy-spidergirl​ @buckystolemyheart​ @booktvmoviefangirl​ @thatpeachybandgirl​ @supernatural-girl97​ @thefridgeismybestie​ @eggingamazinglove​ @deathofmissjackson​ @awkwardfangirl2014​ @queenoftheunderdark​ @laneygthememequeen​ @writingaworldofmyown​ @death-unbecomes-you​ @shann-the-artist-moon​ @supernaturallover2002​ @daughterofthenight117​ @mcuwillbethedeathofme​ @verymuchclosetedfangirl​ @for-the-love-of-the-fandom​ @ocaptain-mycaptainmorgan​ @crazy-little-thing-called-buck​ @letsgetfuckingsuperwholocked​ @stupendoussciencenaturepanda​ @supernatural-strangerthings-1980​

Clint ‘Destory Me, I’ll Thank You’ Barton: @ml7010​ @sfreeborn​ @tanelle83​ @coley0823​ @xxloki81xx​ @boltsgirl919​ @carissime72​ @katpatrova17​ @honey-bee-holly​ @marvelfansworld​ @badassbeckettswan​ @fallinginlovewithqueue​

CBTM: @lakamaa12​ @alina-barnes​ @notyourtypicalrose​ @thedoctorlivesthroughbooks​

#Marvel #Clint Barton x Reader #Avengers #Clint x Reader #Come Back to Me #Marvel Fanfiction #Clint Barton Series #Avengers Fanfiction #Hawkeye Series