#and soooo many of my issues trace back to him

[gublersg1rl]

to be a good daughter.

plot: reader texts her dad who she is not on speaking terms with, his response makes her feel many different emotions, and a want to isolate herself. spencer attempts to comfort her through these rough times.

warnings ⚠️ : reader is referred to as a girl, no age specified but reader mentions studying (university you weirdos), implied nonsexual shower (but you can choose if it's sexual idc), established relationship, daddy issues, no use of y/n, proofread but could 100% have mistakes, mentions of narcissism, a little bit angsty, reader is stubborn at first cuz why not, could be missing stuff but oh well

A/N: HIIII, i posted abt me texting my father and ppl told me it was relatable so instead of going to therapy like a normal person i wrote this!! i don’t know if this is weird??? a venting fanfic but i got a couple people tell me they wanted it soooo here we are,,,,i tried to make the issue of why reader and her dad stopped talking loose and up to you but i don’t know if succeeded,,,kinda got carried away !

-♡--♡--♡--♡--♡--♡--♡--♡--♡--♡--♡--♡--♡-

You sat in bed, back pushed against the headboard, knees to your chest. Sitting in complete silence with no lights, except for the cracks of dawn gleaming through your half-open blinds. However, you feel contradicted by your fondness of the silence. Your energy was completely drained to nothingness, while simultaneously loathing the way your mind could not be distracted.

You didn’t have much time to contemplate whether you liked sitting with your thoughts as your brain got preoccupied by the sounds of keys opening the door. It was your boyfriend, you knew he’d be home soon but you lost track of time, sitting in your regret as you could hear his failed endeavors at being quiet, a useless attempt in not waking you.

At last, the bedroom door finally opened, and an outline of your boyfriend filled the doorframe. “You're awake—?” Spencer asked, his voice slightly surprised with an element of concern.

You give him a small nod, “I am,”

Although your response was short, and unengaging due to your lack of desire to want to be conversing right now, you were glad if you were talking to anyone at this moment, it was him.

“I texted you after I got off the plane.”

“My phones on do not disturb.”

“Angel, we talked about this. I don't like you having your—”

“I was studying, Spencer.” You say before another word can leave his mouth.

A little taken aback by your successful attempt to cut his safety speech short, he quickly shakes it off because it doesn't take a profiler to see you are upset.

“Okay,” he surrenders, sitting down on the edge of the bed. “What's going on?” Spencer questioned, taking one of your hands in his, and caressing his thumb up and down your skin comfortingly.

Your pupils dart to trace his hands taking in yours. As much as you want to be isolated, the comfort feels better than you convinced yourself it would. Regardless, you still feel this inexplicable urge to shield yourself. Maybe because talking about it makes it more real. Something you so desperately didn't want to be true.

You push your lips together, shrugging your shoulders, “Nothing wrong, just couldn't sleep, I guess.”

Spencer examined your movements before replying. “We don't have to talk about it, but I do not want you to lie to me. I respect if you would rather not talk about how you feel, even if I think you should. If you don't want to, I won't push you. All I ask is you be honest with me about how you feel, okay?”

And with that, tears drown your vision. “Why the fuck do you think I'm lying?” you say as if the only defense to your vulnerability is being hostile.

Your reaction alone was enough for him to get the answer he ought for. “I'm going to go take a shower, I'll let you have alone time,” Spencer stated deciding it was better to not edge you on anymore, before getting up from your shared bed.

“Wait—“ you quickly say, hand attempting to pull him back. “I'm sorry,” all efforts at putting up your ‘I don't care’ facade are now perished. “I don't want you to leave.” is soon also added to your apology.

“Okay, I'm here,” Spencer said softly, coming to standing at the side of the bed, as you moved in front of him, sitting on your knees.

Your arms wrap around his neck, embracing his now-accepted comfort. “I'm sorry,” you whisper again, pulling yourself up to bury your face in the crook of his neck.

“Shh, baby I know, it's okay.” He answered back hands now squeezing your waist gently.

the tears you repressed for hours, finally all come out. You sob into his skin, as Spencer just holds you. “I’m so stupid…” you manage to get out.

“Don't say that,” he whispered.

“I am,” you respond pulling back to look up at him with teary eyes.

His hands wipe away your tears, “You are not stupid, why would you ever say that?”

“I texted my dad,” you confess to him, leaning your head against his hand.

“I know.”

You give him a puzzled stare, shaking your head narrowly. “What?”

“Well,” He said pushing some loose hair behind your ear, “I knew you had been contemplating it for a while. So, when I saw you were upset I made the assumption you finally went for it.”

“Then why did you ask me what happened?”

“I'd like to believe you'll come to me when you're ready. Just because I know something doesn't mean you're ready to talk about it, but when you are, I'm here. I'm always here.”

“Do you think that makes me weak?”

“That you're not ready?”

“That I texted him,”

“No, of course not angel.”

His fingers gently brushed through your hair as he pondered ideas of what to say next, “I think that makes you empathetic, even if you shouldn't be.”

“It's not empathy Spencer, I hate my dad. I hate everything he put me through, I hate the fact I can't escape it—” tears gloss your eyes once again, “I hate that even when I don't talk to him, and I distance myself from his— emotional abuse. He's right there. He's in my head. And-, and I just want to be a good daughter…” and with those last couple of words, tears plunge out from your eyes, glistening as they fall.

Almost robotically Spencer is quick to wipe the moisture collecting on your cheeks, and chin with his thumb. “You are a good daughter, my love.” he coos reassuringly. “But let's say in a hypothetical world where you aren't, do you really owe your father a good daughter after all he's done to you?”

“I just wanted an apology,” You dismiss his question because the answer is not something you want to admit right now. “But instead I was the one who was apologizing, I just— sat in bed. Staring at my phone, as he went on, and on about how much I hurt him,” Your hands desperately claw at his shirt for support, tears begging to be spilled. “But— he hurt me, Spencer, he hurt me.” taking in a deep breath, you continue. “But I just sat there, as he attempted to gaslight and manipulate me, and I'm not stupid I knew. I knew Spencer. I knew what he was doing. And like an idiot, I just apologized. All I could say was I'm sorry. And to some extent, it's true—” You pause to let out a sigh, “I feel selfish, my dad is a narcissist who is incapable of understanding his faults and I'm punishing him for that. I know he's hurting because of me, and even if he's in the wrong he can’t see that.”

“That is not true,” Spencer responded almost immediately making your tight grip on his white button-up loosen. “There are many people who suffer from the same issues as your father, who do not act the way he does. Your asks of him are simple, but he refuses to better himself for you. You can’t blame yourself for his actions, or the way he feels right now, because he did that to himself. It’s not right for you to bash yourself over not being a good daughter when he never did the job of being a good father. You are a great daughter for wanting him to better himself, he’s a bad father for making you feel guilty for that. So please, don’t ever call yourself selfish, stupid, or an idiot, because I am so incredibly proud of you, and everything you've accomplished.”

Tears trickle down your face, looking up at him as you soak in every word he says. “I love you,” are the only words you can manage to get out.

“I love you too sweetheart,” he said softly. “But it is late, and you need rest. Okay?”

You nod, eyelashes battering as you realize just how tired you truly are. “Okay,” you repeat back.

“I'm going to go take a shower now, I'll meet you in bed soon.”

“Spence,” you whine grabbing his hand.

He sighs, with a smile knowing exactly what you were insinuating. “Okay, fine. Come on, let's go.”

#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #criminal minds #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x reader #y/n x spencer reid #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x fem!reader #fanfic #spencer reid headcanon #spencer reid blurb #criminal minds fanficton #criminal minds fanfic #daddy issues

[omaano]

HI OMAANO IF THIS IS TOO LATE IM SORRY but i would like to know more about/see an untitled artwork of your choice (was it 1-6???) and also "The Razor Crest Lives" if that's alright!! razor crest i miss u

Hiii Oyster!❤️ It’s not too late for you, unless I run out of wips XD

Now I don’t exactly remember which one were the exact untitled artworks in those lucky 6 ^^; but one of them was certainly this:

Look. I’ve had a hard week when I sketched this out in a rush just so that I can have my hands do something, and I’d lie if I said I remember every minute of it happening… and at this point I’m lowkey too embarrassed to figure out the other half of this pic with Cobb even though this idea has been bouncing around in my head for months! 🫣 (Din’s also missing his tattoo, I know but I didn’t feel like opening up 3 different files to put it on him properly at the time ^^; I’ll add them when I can open this Wip up with a straight face)

The Razor Crest Wip has about 10 lines in it with zero adjustments for Din’s anatomy, just a trace over of my attempt at taking useful reference images of myself putting together my Razor Crest Lego set (I’ll have soooo many issues with the adjustments omg) XD it’s for my Bobadin Bingo, and I believe that Din deserves to get his ship back in Lego form at least! 🥺 (I strongly suspect that Boba will be represented in his tiny Lego self in there as well lol)

#answers #Wip #my art #dancinghannigram #din djarin #I’m having vampire din brainrot don’t judge me #it’s one of my favorite things #dincobb

[thatbanditqueen]

I will say this; when it comes to the Memphis Mafia, always beware of what the "boys" say. I take their stories with a grain of salt. According to a 2008 article,

"One would think that the various members of Elvis’ entourage, having worked and socialized closely with him for years, would be convincing sources of information. However, over the years several of the “boys” have proved themselves far from reliable when recalling their times with Elvis. Back in 1977, Red West, Sonny West, and Dave Hebler’s book, Elvis: What Happened?, was filled with bias and inaccuracies, Lamar Fike was a main conduit of misinformation for Albert Goodman’s deeply flawed 1981 Elvis biography, and Byron Raphael’s article about Elvis’ sex life in a 2005 issue of Playboy is completely spurious.

Of course, not all those close to Elvis have proved unreliable. Joe Esposito and Jerry Schilling are two who seem to have told their stories about Elvis with honesty and balance. The lesson here is that when reading these “I-was-there-books,” the reader must keep an open mind when it comes to accuracy, honesty, and bias.

In the end, I’m not suggesting we should all be cynical about everything that has been and will be written about Elvis. And I don’t think there is anything to be gained by arguing over isolated facts. However, the legacy of Elvis should be important to all of his fans. And if it takes setting the record straight once in awhile, then sign me up for the crusade."

This is a really good point and is well taken, thank you Nonnie. Thanks for taking the time to write to me, and I agree, history is always constructed refractions of what happened, and is shaped by the bias and agendas and axes that those who are left have to grind. This whole story about the girl in Palm Springs definitely shows this, and its actually been a really good lesson for me in soooo many ways. As a fan, as a citizen of tumblr, as a historian (I'm going to go ahead and claim that everyone in the EP fan community is a historian because we are all shifting through traces of the past to access him). I think you really pushed me to reconsider how I am evaluating the traces of Elvis that I grasp at here and elsewhere.

I was thinking to myself, should I take the passage I copied from Alana Nash's book Elvis and the Memphis Mafia down? I mean, I put it up in a bit of a hurry in-between meetings at work and I didn't really have time to edit or respond. I also didn't really think twice, I was just responding to an ask about a conversation on another post. And the truth is that the first version, where I quote the book, gave incorrect information, and ts veracity is impossible to conclusively prove.

But I've decided to leave it up, because I love the discussion that followed and that is now a part of that post. I am relatively new to active fandom, and I am learning everyday. That whole discussion shows how fans need to be aware of references that are questionable, as well as those that are not, because it becomes part of our shared understanding and useful for how we elevate the stories we encounter about Elvis. The thing I love about tumblr is how random artifacts circulate with stories about specific incidents, because I learn alot this way and I love when something pops up. But I also cannot tell you how often I wish they had a date or a source or more information. I also can't tell you how much I wish there was a pinterest tumblr integration that was easier than me creating pins over there for posts but that is a whole other post....

What books or interviews or websites have you found the most useful for learning about Elvis? I guess I put that question to everyone reading this.

thanks for your insightful advice and for discussing this important topic with me!!

xoxox

norAHHHHHH

this is my elvis history is hard work face v

#elvis history #bandit queen asks

[clingylilhoneybee]

Hi hi this is your sign to dump your toxic or abusive partner. You are deserving of way better than what they put you through

#going off on a tangent in the tags lol #I am a sentimental fucker #who has MAJOR issues with letting things go #so I had a bunch of voicemails from my ex before teddy #who was the worst person ever #and soooo many of my issues trace back to him #but I knew me and knew I needed to listen to them if I was going to be okay deleting them for good #so I decided I was in a good enough place today #and I straight up laughed a couple times bc this man was the textbook definition of the cycle of abuse and manipulations #most of the voicemails were either after he yelled at me or majorly fucked up in some way where I wasn’t answering the phone #so all but one were basically love bombing or trying to pull some sympathy card #and it’s insane that this was just totally normal for me #and that he knew and he knew exactly how to get me crawling back after a fight with these #but yeah one left me a lil sad so I decided to listen to the voicemails I have from teddy #and immediately starting bawling #no anger #no manipulation #like I could literally feel the genuine love radiating from every message #even though only one was like actually emotional #and I’m just so happy I got out #and started to realize my worth #bc now I can confidently listen back to those and KNOW I didn’t deserve a word of his manipulation #and I deserve the happiness and love that came after him

[sailorhyunjinz]

Do you write yandere? If so, can I request skz yandere headcanons on how they would react when S/O rejects them because she doesn't wanna deal with whole drama that would come with dating an idol?

i mean kinda?? i have a seungmin yandere fic in my drafts sooo BUT YEAH

oh also, requests are not open but im just gonna do this one cause headcanons are kinda fun BUT REQUESTS ARE CLOSED <33

also why is the felix one so short-

Warnings; yandere!skz, rejection, k-dnapping, slight gaslightning or like manipulation, restraints, threats, aggression, mentions of masturbation, stockholm syndrome

Chan

nobody rejects him. nobody.

you two were friends from school and you were sooo happy when chan made it as an idol, finally persuing the dream he had been yapping on about for years. 

but in the midst of that he realized that he had feelings for you, he missed you all the time, just wanting to hang out with you and maybe explore the things he had on his mind. so,, he decided to confess when you guys were at a cafe.

“look y/n,,, there’s something I wanna tell you” he started to which you tilted your head

“nooo,,, are you guys going on a tour again,,, i wil miss you sooo much channie” you said with a pout but the boy shook his head.

“i like you y/n” 

your mouth stood agape, this was not what you expected and truthfully,,, not what you wanted. 

“chan,,, y-you know thats not possible” you said with a frown, looking at him straight ahead.

“of course it is,,, why wouldn’t it be? w-what are you trying to say y/n?!” his voice started growing louder, you looking around in order to see that people werent turning their heads towards your table. 

Minho

you have made a big big mistake my friend- 

wont even hesitate to keep you hostage in his basement LIKE IM NOT JOKING-

might just tie you up and like,,, not even do anything to you, just talk to you and admire you, maybe tracing your facial features and cuddle closer on the cold floor

just wants to keep you as a pet or smth and you are scared out of your mind cause you cant move cause of the restraints, you cant speak because you have silvertape across your lips that he only removes to feed you but if you start screaming you wont get any so you deicde to just stay calm and quiet before someone saves you and play along. 

i mean you do,,, kinda fall for him but you know you cant,, but you cant help but to fall for him and miss him whenever he’s out on schedule things

he always returns to you and you get so happy when you see the little crevice of light from outside when he opened the basement door

whenever he lies next to you, you put your head against his shoulder and take in his scent the best you can

he told you everyday that he would let you go if you agreed to date him but you shook your head,, maybe cause you liked being his prey. 

Changbin

he’s more of the threatening type of yandere,,, like,, not that he’s violent but if you try to block his number he will create new ones and keep on sending you messages about how you have betrayed him and how he wished that you loved him back and all that,,,,

you guys often meet because you go to the same college and are students in the same department sooo,,,, avoiding him is pretty impossible 

he stares a lot at you,,, you guys have a couple of classes together and he just stares the entire time, his eyes are just filled with revenge, he somehow wants you make you his, own you but he doesnt know how yet, for now he can just look.

watch this fucking message conversation just be this;

[why did you talk to him during class?]

[you could have just asked me]

[nobody loves you like i do. no one y/n]

you are never getting rid of him basically,,

he’s gonna get to you first ;))

Hyunjin

i feel like he goes more to the stalking route than the kidnapping and drugging and whatnot- 

ok,,, you rejected him,,, but that doesnt mean you’re getting rid of him.

ohmygod what if he turns into a peeping tom- cause he obviously knows where you live. 

like yall were not even that close?? he just saw you backstage at one of the concerts and thought you looked good so he decided to go up to, you werent an idol so no problem he thought.

but he gets a bit too,, hasty with his decisions and often falls for people randomly and so when he politely greeted you and gave you his number you simply shook your head, explaining that this wouldn’t be possible since you worked in the same industry and you needed to stay clear out of any scandals in order to keep your job. 

no was not answer in Hyunjins mind. 

luckily he managed to catch your full name by flickering through some papers in an office and also saw your full adress there, knowing exactly what he was going to do on his free time. 

Jisung

if im being completely honest,,, i have no idea-

like,,, he gives me kinda pervy yandere vibes,,,

what if youre like his ex before he became an idol and now he wants to get back together with you-

oh,,, he masturbates to your pictures-

i feel like he always thinks about you, wondering what you like and wants to write songs about you but he doesnt do much-

but when he finds out that you have been hired by the same company as him to work as a like,,, economics accountant thingy he is all of a sudden vEEERY interested-

always asking the manager of when the group will have meetings with the accounting team,,, although they had nothing to do with them-

he just wanted to be in a conference room with you (and think pervy things about you in your tight office skirt and white blouse)

you went to the toilet on day and you saw him lurking around the same floor,,, WHICH ONCE AGAIN WAS NOT CONNECTED TO THE GROUP AT ALL- 

and idk,,, probably sneaks in with you and locks the door before you even react that theres someone else in the toilet- 

i feel like he’s pretty mild,,, but when he’s alone with you he is aggressive broooo

probably pins you to the wall and threatens you or smth along those lines,,,,,

(writing this is what my life has become to-)

Felix

“what do you think you’re doing?”

you turn around again, you had just thought of just leaving with a vague answer to his question but he was not having it. 

“answer.” 

his words sounded cold, his dark voice making an entrace, the exact one you’ve heard on many of the songs you listened to.

“felix,,, you have to understand,,, u-um,, if we date theres gonna be some issues” you said but he just stared at you with cocky eyebrows and a dark gaze, running his tongue on the inside of his cheek.

“do you think i care? would i ask you if i cared?” he said to which you shook your head automatically, what more could you do?

“you get until tomorrow to think and if i don’t get the answer i want well,,, we’ll see what i’ll do to you.”

Seungmin

he plots shit behind your back yk?

he’s more of the sneaky type of yanderes (oop spoiler to a fic heh)

like he makes this like fucking year long plan where the objective of the mission is to make you obssessed with him-

he starts kinda subtely,,, first its going to the same gym as you and like,,, knowing where you placed your stuff

and then he starts putting small notes like under your waterbottle when you went to grab something that say like “i think youre cute, call me” and then his number

you obviously dont react,,, because why the fuck would you contact a stranger at the gym 

BUT THEN you realize that its him, its mf kim seungmin. yo,,,, u didnt know he went to this gym,,, that was not,,, the best-

of course you got a bit interested,,, you wanted to know how he was off camera,,, like just in his everyday life and i meeean,,, he was attractive but obviously you should stay away bc,,, he’s a celebrity but seungmin didnt want to stay away

he notes somehow started to get more aggressive,,, suddenly being like “why are you ignoring me?” and such,,,

and one night you were left alone in the gym with him,,, it was sooo quiet, only the sounds of your strained breaths as you lifted a dumbell

here where the plan came to play ;))

Jeongin

he’s obsessed with you and you are not going anywhere, even if you rejected him. 

he’s more clingy?? LIKE HE WILL NOT LEAVE YOU

ok sure,, he falls more into the stalking category too,,, 

also veeeery much a obssessed kinda yandere,,, like his mind is not thinking about how to like capture you,,, more about how to make you soooo comfortable and fool you into loving him despite the circumstances?

i just imagine that you work in a cafe and jeongin often meets you there when he buys coffee and you are already in awe when you see fucking yang jeongin enter the coffee shop on your shift but you were even more excited when he leaves his phone number on a napkin and slides it over the counter before leaving. 

you thought about it,,, contemplating multiple times but,,, you decided it would be best not to since well,,, safety purposes 

but he would visit you and every day his face got more and more perplexed cause he wondered why you didnt call

mf would not leave you alone, he would even wait outside the coffee shop until you finished your shift and walk you home,,, so now he knew where you lived- 

and then do the same thing over and over again until you talked to him.

does. not. give. up. 

#stray kids headcanons #skz headcanons #stray kids yandere #skz yandere #anon #Cherrymail🍒

[mypoisonedvine]

Compromise | dark!Bucky Barnes x reader

summary: after weeks in bucky barnes’ basement, you continue to plot your escape.  unfortunately for you, he’s been plotting something, too.

word count: 4.2k

warnings: smut (noncon), oral (m receiving), forced breeding, bargaining, kidnapping/imprisonment, yandere (slightly?), a little bit of lactation kink

The jingling of keys was almost too quiet to hear, but with no other sound in your rusty shack of a prison, it was deafening.  Your heart raced with the realization that your captor was returning home, even though you had anticipated it since his daily schedule (and in turn, yours) operated like clockwork.

The door opening and slamming shut.  The rustling of chains and sliding of metal— he’s locking the deadbolts again.  You tried to count them to see if you could figure how many he had on the door upstairs, but you lost track of which sound was what after three or four.  You needed to know that before you attempted your escape, so you could calculate the time you’d need to get out the front door.  

But that was sort of a moot point when you couldn’t get to the front door.  Your first obstacle was the door in front of you.  Your first obstacle was getting out of this basement.

An issue for another day, though, because Bucky was home and he was coming down to see you.  It was earlier than usual, as he normally spent time upstairs first and didn’t come down until he had to bring you your dinner.  Even just that small disruption to your daily routine made you fear the worst.

The door creaked and groaned under its own weight as it swung open, your captor waiting on the other side,  The orange light of the afternoon was only a sliver across the wall, since your only window was no more than a few inches tall and at right at the ground level (which, in your case, was just below the ceiling; if you stood on your bed you could see out, but it was just grass and trees as far as you could see).  As he stepped down the concrete stairs and shut the door behind him, that sliver of light illuminated only his crystal-blue eyes.

The two of you stared at each other in silence for a moment; him broad and strong and glowering menacingly by the door, you cowering in the corner.

“You know why you’re here, don’t you?” he asked quietly.

“I’m here so I can have your baby,” you answered as calmly as you could manage.  He had made it overwhelmingly clear over the past few weeks, and although he’d never touched you that way in your time here, every day was shrouded with the impending reality of his purpose for you.

“Good job,” he praised flatly.  “I’ve been waiting a while, for the right time…”

So have I, you thought to yourself, reflecting on your plan but stopping yourself as if you thought he might somehow read your mind and find a way to stop you.

“Today’s the day,” he informed you plainly.  “Get on the bed.”

You pressed yourself back against the cold brick, shaking your head.  He sighed, stalking closer to you as his combat boots echoed across the room with each step.  

“Don’t make this difficult.  It’s inevitable— and if you behave, I’ll make it good for you, too.”

“No, please,” you begged, shrinking into a ball as he neared your corner, “please don’t—”

He grabbed your wrist and yanked you to your feet, ignoring your yelps of pain; with a growl, he shoved you against the wall.  “I’ve waited long enough.  I’ve given you time to accept it and prepare yourself.  Now get.  On.  The bed.”

Your mind raced as it searched for how to get out of this, but it came up nearly blank.  He was a super soldier, with a vibranium arm; fighting was not at all an option.  Begging was a waste, because you’d done that so many times before and all it did was get you punished— he never beat or starved you, thankfully, because he said it would interfere with your fertility, but he was quick to take away your few chances for privacy.  You shuddered at the memory of those times that he’d chained you up and refused to let you feed or bathe yourself, doing it all for you instead.

His eyes were burning into your skin and you knew he was going to take what he wanted from you.  You knew you couldn’t stop him from getting what he’d been waiting for… but you wondered if you could negotiate with him still.  Maybe if you appealed to his arousal, you could gamble your dignity but save yourself from getting pregnant.  After all, sex with this psycho sounded like a nightmare, but a child with him was unthinkable.

“I… I can still pleasure you,” you offered weakly, your voice and hands trembling with fear as you looked up at him.  His brows furrowed slightly as he looked back with an expression of confusion.  “You can use my mouth instead.  I’ll be so good,” you promised, swallowing nervously as his eyes scanned your face, “I’ll do anything you want, I just don’t want to get pregnant.”

“I don’t know…” he mumbled, and you smiled because he was considering it and that meant you had a shot.

“Please, please Bucky let me suck your cock,” you begged, feeling a little sick as you had to feign this sort of eagerness, “it’ll be so good, pleasepleaseplease—”

“Alright, don’t overexert yourself,” he sighed, like he was doing you a favor.  “I suppose it couldn’t hurt… just this once.  But it’d better be as good as you’re making it seem, or I’ll just fuck you instead.”

You beamed and fell to your knees.  “Oh, thank you, thank you so much— I’m gonna make it good, I promise Bucky, I’ll do whatever you like.”

“Well, you need to get it out first.”

You nodded and reached up to his belt, swallowing nervously as you started to undo the buckle.  It wasn’t too bright in the room but you could see the outline of his cock through his jeans— it was hard already, and you could tell it was big.  You figured the fabric was making it seem thicker than it really was, because it couldn’t possibly be that thick, right?

You looked up at him through your lashes as you opened the belt all the way, using touch to navigate the button and fly as you maintained eye contact.  His face was as unreadable as ever, stoic aside from a tightened jaw.  You really hoped he was enjoying this, because your ability to avoid getting pregnant was riding on it.  

You unzipped the jeans slowly, slightly afraid that teasing would get you in trouble but smiling up at him as if you had no fear at all.  You needed to act like this blowjob was the best thing that ever happened to you.  If it kept this psycho from knocking you up, maybe it would be.

As you pulled his jeans down his thighs, you gasped a little at the outline of his cock through his boxer-briefs.  “Fuck,” you murmured, “it really is that big.”

Bucky’s stern exterior finally cracked as a small smirk crossed his face.  “Think you can handle it?” he asked, a hint of playful challenge in his tone.

“I’ll try my best,” you answered as you rubbed it through the fabric.  With a breath to stabilize yourself, you slipped your fingers under the elastic, pulled his underwear down his muscular thighs— slowly, thoughtfully— and set the beast free.

With it staring you in the face like this, the tip red and dotted with a pearl of pre-cum, you wondered how you ever thought this was a good idea.  

You took a quick breath in and out to stabilize yourself and try to accept that this was really happening, before delicately wrapping your hand around it.  Your fingers didn’t even reach your palm… you were so screwed.  

“Waiting for something?” he asked you impatiently.

“It’s better if you build anticipation,” you explained, looking up at him again.

“I know,” he frowned.  “What do you think I’ve been waiting all this time for?”

You were trying not to think about where you were, what this was, who he was.  Of course he would remind you, just to make it even harder.

You leaned forward and licked the head with a long, slow lap, tasting the warmth and musk of his skin on your tongue.  You met his gaze when you did it again, finishing the motion by wrapping your lips around the head.  Your tongue swirled over the skin and tasted everywhere you could reach, paying extra attention to his slit, and you finally got the slightest reaction as his mouth fell slack.

Needing some relief for your jaw already, you pulled back and stroked him slowly with a smile.  “You taste soooo good,” you purred, internally cringing at your own poor acting.  “I bet your come’s gonna taste even better.”

Spreading the wetness from your mouth over the rest of his shaft, you were able to get a bit of a rhythm going with your hand before you swallowed the head again, bobbing up and down and taking him a little deeper each time.  You tried to change it up and watch for what might get him going: teasing him with the tip of your tongue, moaning around him, reaching down to grab his balls and rub them— but he was slow to warm up.  His first real sign of pleasure was when his fingers pushed your hair out of your face, then traced down your cheek where it was hollowed from sucking.

“You look so good with my cock in your mouth,” he groaned, grabbing your chin and guiding you to take him a little deeper.  You moaned again and tried to relax your throat as his tip began to brush over the back of your tongue.  

You got into a routine fairly quickly— suck, bob, stroke, gag, repeat.  Your free hand fondled his balls a bit, and you would stop to lick and suck them from time to time, but it seemed like you needed to keep trying to get him in your throat if you had any chance at making him come soon.

“Fuck,” he whispered under his breath, putting his hand on the back of your neck and starting to buck his hips up against you.  You almost reached up to put your hands on his thighs and slow him down, but stopped yourself; you couldn’t afford to say no to him right now.

“Choke on it,” he growled, holding you down and watching you gag as tears welled in your eyes.  Just as you thought you might throw up or pass out, he let you go and you were able to pull back.  You coughed a little but started stroking him in the meantime while your throat recovered.  You knew he was getting closer to the edge, you just hoped he was getting a lot closer, for your sake.

When you couldn’t take gagging anymore, and when you started to really feel him flexing and throbbing against your tongue, you pulled off of him and stroked his cock eagerly.  “Do you wanna come on my face, Bucky?  Or do you want me to swallow it?” you moaned, trying to sound sultry in spite of how exhausted and fucked-out you must’ve looked.

“Neither,” he replied, throwing you off-guard again.  “I’m gonna come in your mouth, but I don’t want you to swallow it until I tell you to.  Is that clear?”

You nodded, even though the idea of having to keep his come in your mouth for any longer than a moment sounded wretched.

He slipped his cock back into your mouth, hitting your throat every time and ignoring when you gagged.  His breaths got heavier as you could feel his cock begin to pulse again.  “Gonna come,” he warned you with a deep moan, “fuck, you ready?”

You did your best attempt at a nod, looking up at him the whole time.  He looked back at you, his teeth bared and eyes wild, and the way he glared at you made you throb between your legs.

His moans were shaky as he came, the taste of him coating your tongue and throat with every thrust.  He came a lot, more than you’d expected, and you sucked lightly on the sensitive head before pulling off.

“Fuck,” he sighed, “that was good.  You were right.”

You didn’t smile, because you were afraid to let any of it spill.  You got the impression that if you got come on his boots, you’d get in serious trouble.  He helped you stand up, examining your face for a moment. 

“You’re not swallowing yet, right?  I wanna see it in your mouth,” he purred.  He held your chin gently between his forefinger and thumb and you opened your mouth for him, letting his spend gather on your tongue.  “Good girl.”

You stayed still as his hands wandered over your body, settling on the knot that held your robe tied together.  He didn’t let you dress in anything more than that, though he thankfully kept the temperature nice enough that you didn’t need a lot more.  With one tug, he undid the knot and it fell open; another quick push off your shoulders and you were completely naked in front of him.

He hummed contentedly, running his fingertips over your skin until you shivered, goosebumps forming in the wake of his touch.  “I’ve seen you before, but that was strictly business,” he explained, his voice dreamy like he wasn’t focusing that much on his words but rather on what he was seeing in front of him.  “Now I can finally appreciate you the way you deserve.”

You were terrified of what this all meant— apparently this is how he relaxes after an orgasm, some sort of cryptic take on pillow talk?— but you stayed still and kept your mouth shut, literally and figuratively.

“Spit it out into my hand,” he instructed.  Confused and a little disgusted, you obeyed as he cupped his palm beneath your mouth.  You were still trying to process that when his other hand— the metal one— grabbed you by the neck and forced you down, expending almost no effort in order to bend you over the edge of the bed and pin you there.

It all happened so fast that you didn’t even have time to scream before he was wiping his come on your pussy, shoving it in with his fingers.

“No!” you cried when you realized what he’d done, but it was too late to beg because it had already happened.  You could feel it dripping out of you, but he never let it get very far before two fingers dragged it back and pushed it in.

“You’re soaked,” he observed with a cruel laugh.  “You love sucking cock, huh?  Maybe I’ll let you do it again sometime.”

All you could do was sob, hoping he would be done soon and you could get back to preparing your escape plan; he’d already come, so what more could he do to you?

“I don’t know if it’s getting deep enough,” he frowned as he knelt down and examined between your legs.  If his hand wasn’t already wrapped around your neck you would’ve considered trying to kick him in the face or something, but you felt so helpless already and didn’t want to anger him further.  “Here’s what we’ll do,” he decided, standing up and leaning over you as he started to get on the bed with you.  “I’m gonna fuck this come into you, as deep as I can go.  How about that?”

You shook your head and continued your sobs as he grabbed you and tossed you on your back, grabbing your legs and placing them on his shoulders.

“Bucky, you can’t!” you begged weakly, reaching up to cover your face with your hands.  He didn’t care for that, grabbing your arms and pinning them to either side of you.

“Look at me!” he demanded, and you blinked your eyes open even as you turned your face away slightly to hide that last little bit.  “Yes I fucking can.  I can fuck you five more times tonight if I want to.  I don’t think I’ll be able to come any more after that, but I could still fuck you again just to be sure.  So, do you want to spend all night full of my cock?  Or just the next half hour?”

Clearly, you’d underestimated the ramifications of his ‘super’ status.  You had assumed that finishing once would satiate him, but you saw now that he had a lot more in store for you.     

“Make it quick, please,” you whispered, your last piece of negotiation for the night— hopefully.  He grinned and you swallowed.

“Oh, I think you ruined any chance of that.  I probably wouldn’t’ve lasted too long if we’d stuck to my original plans— what, with all the waiting for the past few weeks,” he chuckled.  “But now that you got me off already, it might be awhile before I can come again.”

You closed your eyes and sighed in defeat.  He pushed down on the backs of your knees, keeping your legs spread wide and your body all but folded in half.

“I think my fingers warmed you up enough, don’t you?  You can take it,” he decided as he started to slide his cock over your folds; like he was going to play with his prey before he devoured it.  “Beg me to fuck you.”

“No, no,” you whispered, shutting your eyes tighter.

His voice got closer as the weight on your legs shifted; he was leaning above you, looking right at you, and you were too terrified to open your eyes.

“Beg me to fuck you and get you pregnant.”

“Nonononono,” you sobbed, because maybe it was all a terrible dream and it would end soon.

“Sooner you do it, sooner I start, sooner I finish.  And then it’ll all be over and I’ll leave you alone.”

It’ll only just be the beginning, some voice in your head told you, but did it even make any difference?

“Please… fuck me,” you whispered, so quiet that only a man with enhanced hearing could pick up on it— but he would rather pretend not to.

“Speak up, honey, I can’t hear ya,” he grinned, “and look at me with those pretty eyes.”

You blinked your eyes open, staring back at the man above you.  “Please, Bucky…” you said, a little louder, “please fuck me… I want you to g-get me pregnant.”

And part of you was almost thankful when he finally slammed his cock into you, because at least he wasn’t going to make you beg any longer.  Still, your back arched and your mouth fell into a silent scream as the pain of his forced entry shot through you.

“Fuuuuuuuck,” he growled, already pulling back to thrust deeper, “oh my god, you feel so fucking good.”

It was all too much, and the way he had you positioned made him go so deep in you that you could barely breathe.  You knew you’d be sore for days from this, and he had only just started.

He fucked you relentlessly, looking down and watching in awe as his cock slid in and out of your dripping hole.  “Taking me so well,” he praised you with a rough voice, “such a good girl for me.”

His attempt at praise felt like the most humiliating thing he could’ve said; you wanted anything but to be good for him— after so many tries to fight back, to stall, to resist, all you’d done was make everything worse for yourself, and now he was calling you his good girl.  You felt disgusting as he leaned down and grabbed your jaw, forcing you to reciprocate his aggressive kiss.

He stayed close when he pulled back, watching your expression twist with pain.  “Does it still hurt, doll?  It should start feeling good soon.”

It had already started to feel good, but you hadn’t admitted that to yourself.  Every thrust pushed the fat head of his cock right into some part of you that was so sensitive and it was all very overwhelming.

“It’ll be better if you come,” he explained.  “I wanna make it good for you, and it helps our chances of conceiving.”

An hour ago, you would have objected to the use of ‘our’— it’s not ‘our’ plan, it’s not what ‘we’ want, you would’ve said, or at least thought.  But you were so distracted that you didn’t even notice it, and in a way, you two did have the same goal: you both wanted this to end, just for different reasons.

“I bet you can come just from this,” he wagered, “but it’ll be easier for you if I touch you here, right?”

One hand moved down and suddenly his thumb was circling your clit.  Instantly your hips were bucking up and your walls were clenching down on him.  He began to praise you for how sensitive you were, but his words were lost in your mind as you put all your energy into not having an orgasm.  You couldn’t come from this— you’d been kidnapped, held captive, molested, manipulated, and now this… you just couldn’t allow that to happen.

“Let go, baby, I know you’re so close,” he encouraged, “it’s okay— it’s good, my good little girl…”

The coil snapped, and at that moment, your last piece of dignity fell and shattered.  It must have been that holding it back for so long only made it more intense when you gave in, because you’d never come so hard in your life.  Your eyes went from wrenched shut to shot wide open, and your back arched as your nails clawed at the sheets beneath you.  You couldn’t be sure what noises you made because your ears were starting to ring, and through all of that he was still fucking you.

“Fuck yes, just like that,” he grinned, “Jesus fucking Christ, you get so tight when you come.”  

As the intensity of your orgasm faded, all your fight was gone with it, and you went limp as you resigned to letting him use your body this way.  He leaned down and kissed your neck, sucking bitemarks into the delicate skin there— even venturing down to your collarbones.  All of that meant he didn’t have to go very far to be able to whisper in your ear about how he was so close, how he was going to get you pregnant any second now, and how he couldn’t wait to see you round and swollen with his child.

“These’ll get bigger too,” he moaned as he reached up to grope your tits.  “Our baby will get first serve, of course, but if there’s anything left over, I’ll help you take care of it.”

It could’ve been hours of that, for all you could tell.  You came again and again— they started to blend together after a while— as he moaned the most terrifying, filthy things in your ear.  You were afraid you’d go numb before he finished, his cock moving so fast and so deep that the friction nearly burned.  It didn’t burn, though, because you were unendingly wet, which really just made it worse because you hated that you were, on some level, enjoying it.  Every time he whispered praises to you, arousal tingled in your spine and you fluttered around him.  It was obvious that his words, his body, and his cock were doing things to you that you hadn’t ever experienced before.

You were crying still, but you weren’t sobbing.  No sound or heavy breathing, just tears streaming silently to the wet patch beneath your head.  

“You’re so perfect,” he cooed, “and you’re gonna be a great mom.  You’ll be a great wife, too… with a little more training.”

He was fucking you even faster, the lewd slapping of skin echoing through the room.  You could hear how wet you were, and you could feel that it had begun to coat your inner thighs.  His moans got louder, occasionally muffled as he kissed your neck some more.

“God, baby, I dunno if I can last much longer… need to fill you up, doll.”

Your legs were shaking, but the rest of you was still and silent, resigned to your fate.

“Fuck, I love you,” he groaned.  “Is that strange to say?  I hope it’s not too soon— but it’s true.  I love you so fuckin’ much.”  His sweetness dissipated instantly as he grabbed your jaw, hovering over your face again.  “Say you love me, too,” he instructed.  You weakly tried to shake your head.  “Say it!”

“I love you too, Bucky,” you whispered, and you heard yourself say it but it didn’t sound like you at all.  He smiled softly, looking down at you with gentle affection in his eyes.

“I know, sweet girl,” he hummed before he kissed you again.  And as the kiss deepened, the way he moaned against your lips and his hips started to falter made it all too clear he was coming inside you.  It went on for what felt like eternity, with him thrusting into you with every flex of his cock, each time slamming as deep as he could go.  

He pulled you close, keeping his cock inside as he started to catch his breath and kiss your neck and shoulders slowly.  Your kidnapper, after everything he’d done, actually had the audacity to cuddle with you… how bizarre.

“Might be able to go again soon,” he informed you with a sleepy mumble, “but I jus’ wanna hold ya first… I could fall asleep with you in my arms like this…”

You glanced over at the door, sadly seeing he’d locked it behind him— even locked from the inside, you couldn’t open it, due to the outrageously heavy metal bar that only he could lift.  Meaning you couldn’t make your escape while he slept.  With no hope of freedom in sight, and with your own eyelids getting heavy, you figured it couldn’t do any harm to fall asleep with him.  You’d worry about your plan tomorrow— right now, you could just enjoy laying your head on his chest and being wrapped in his embrace.

#dark!bucky barnes smut #dark!bucky barnes x reader #dark!bucky barnes x you #dark!bucky barnes x y/n #dark!bucky smut

[binniesthighs]

call me babydoll | reader x chan

soooo shhhh this actually a part one shhhh but i’m just trying out writing out different things and getting out some of my ideas outta my head that i’m really excited about, this one being one of them!! for now...just pretend that this is just a regular ol’ drabble hehehehe. this part is the set-up chapter (shhh i mean drabble) 

One

Pairing: self insert, female reader x bang chan 

Genre: fluff, smut, and angst 

Tags: (overall) bodyguard au, moderndayprince!chan, bodyguard!reader, secret agent au, royal au, action and peril, plot driven, running out of time, slow-ish burn, growing feelings, softswitch!chan, hardswitch!reader, some skz side characters, jeongin third wheel and comedic relief LOL, travelling, chan being expensive and having a lil bit of a superiority complex, flirtyyyy chan, bits of mystery, explicit language, mentions of food and alcohol, idk think like 007 vibes hehe 

CWs: guns and gun violence, a shooting in a ballroom, mentions of blood 

Word count: 4.6k 

Parts

ONE | TWO 

“I wasn’t expecting to see you here early.” 

“Well, expect the unexpected.” 

“Don’t turn the motto back at me. I’m sick of hearing it so many damn times.” 

“What? You and I both know that it’s true. You’re here early too, so, technically you don’t get to say anything.” 

Jeongin straightened his bow tie, then patted down the sides of his perfectly ironed tux with not a crinkle to be found. Knowing him, it was a miracle that he hadn’t messed it up in some form yet. He promptly took out his pocket square to clean off his glasses. 

“You’re looking nice. Seems like they don’t mind spending money now on you these days.” He blew off the flecks of dust on his lenses. 

“They know that they get their return on their investment. And thank you.” 

You smoothed down the sides of your dusty pink dress that nearly went all the way down to your ankles. Had you any other choice, it would’ve been something different, but, dresses were really good at hiding your thigh holster compared to the slacks you usually favored. You didn’t mind the times that you would have to put on a pretty dress, it somewhat reminded you that there was normal life outside of your job. Not to mention, they had started sending you jewelry as well. You always had liked the look of a diamond necklace. 

“You do your research for tonight?” 

Jeongin nodded, then took from his pocket his phone to read over the details. 

“I’ve done a background check on everyone attending, we shouldn’t have any issues. It’s already a low risk event anyway. Charity is never something to get too worked up over, but, you never know with the detail that some of these people come with...who they might be tied to...” 

“--The only people we can trust is ourselves.” You nodded with arms crossed. 

“Expect the unexpected, I know.” He slid his phone back into his inside suit pocket to adjust his cufflinks. 

“--Nervous?” You took note of his fidgeting actions. 

“Nervous? No. I’ve been through this before. You know that.” 

You flicked your partner right on his forehead strung with his white hair. You had really wished that he had picked a less conspicuous color, but he had strings to pull that you didn’t. 

Jeongin cleared his throat, “You do your once over?” 

“Do you even need to ask? I did it hours ago and when we arrived. You know that I’ve done this before too.” 

“I know. I know.” 

Jeongin looked out at the vast circular atrium that made up the center of the hotel. Several stories down under the glass rooftop, you could hear the faint sprinkling of the intricate fountain which smelled of copper. A bit further down, you could see the tips of the tree branches from the indoor landscaping. Across the way, a door slammed with residents tucking in their ties. The two men you had recognized from the roster: a simple thing which made you feel at ease. Your young partner must’ve started to have an effect on you. A sense of unease seemed to quell in your neck. You always listened to your hunches. 

“W-what do you think he thinks of us?” Jeongin broke the silence. 

“Well,” From inside the room you had waited outside, you could hear his distant murmuring, so you lowered your tone. “I think that he has yet to trust us. It’s only been a few weeks. He doesn’t seem like the kind to give himself up easy. That, and I’m sure his resentment of his father must have some influence.” 

“You think he hates us?” 

“I think he hates his father for hiring us. I mean, wouldn’t you? His old security detail, he had them for years.” 

“I guess so. But, we’re not like his old detail.” 

“No. We’re not. I don’t think he gets that yet. I think he sees us as one more way his father has a hold on him.” 

“It’s not like he can do much else about it when his dad’s a kin--” 

“--No, no, thank you, really, it’s lovely. Some of your best work. Thank you.” 

Chan swung open the door to his room, stopping Jeongin right in his sentence. 

“Ah. You’re here already. That’s...punctual.” 

As dazzling and showy as ever, Chan looking nothing short of a magazine model. For a prince, he had certain...appearances that he had to maintain. Today, it was a velvety and maroon suit jacket with a white button up. On the collar, two matching brooches had been perfectly placed, and they were silver like moonlight in the shape of English ivy and adorned with diamonds. On his lapel, he wore the royal insignia of the lion and the wolf. Behind him, you could see his slew of stylists cleaning up their makeup kits and obscene assortment of designer dress shoes for him to pick from. You had thought before that he even smelled like royalty: stuffy white roses with a hint of priceless cognac. 

Jeongin bowed his head respectfully. “Everything has been prepared for tonight. The rest of your guards are surrounding the building, and I’ll be corresponding with them as needed, your Highness.” He tapped at his earpiece. 

Chan drew his attention over to you, giving you a rather lusty glare. Over the past couple weeks, you had gotten used to it. He was a prince to every extent of the word. If there was anything that he had wanted, he simply had to ask. It drove him insane that all he could do was merely look at you. You had  wondered if he harbored anything else for you besides the way that he would devour the curves of your shoulders and hips. 

“Fox. Bee. You look nice tonight. I like seeing you dressed up. Makes me feel less out of place.” 

You couldn’t help but let out a little sound of discontentment over his rather affectionate nickname for you. You and your partner had been introduced to him as F and B. Quickly he had figured out Jeongin’s codename as Fox, considering that he had done a poor job picking out one that wasn’t related to him at all. Anyone could tell that boy was fox-like, and he also just wasn’t that creative when it came to picking out a name for himself. B, or Bee as he had decided, was your name; as in bumblebee. After learning about Fox, he figured that there was an animal theme going, so Bee seemed to fit best in his oponion. 

You tested his glare with your best, “Thank you, your Highness.” 

Jeongin gulped. “Your assistant should be waiting downstairs with your itinerary. She told me that you should meet her first off.” 

“You work too hard F. Have some fun tonight, hm? But don’t...drink too much. You’re responsible for my life remember?” Chan clapped his bodyguard on the back. 

Your partner nervously laughed and adjusted his glasses once more: his preferred tic. 

“And Bee?” Chan rose a brow to lean into close and whisper. “Stay close, alright?” 

“Of course, your Highness.” 

Chan let out a little scoff after getting one more proper look at your frame. “Damn. You really are stunning. Just a little too dangerous for me though.” 

You rolled your eyes, dishing him outa, “Whatever you say, your Highness.” 

Jeongin threw you and annoyed glare before tracing after Chan as he sauntered down the hall to the glass elevator. 

“Bee? You coming? Or do you have something better to do?” Chan’s voice called down the hall with an echo and a little teasing gesture of his hand. 

━━━━━━━━━▲━━━━━━━━━

It had been seven years since you had chosen this line of work, and each time that you had to go to one of these things, you hated them more and more. Not because they were hard to control--they were easy--but you just hated how many superficial and self-absorbed people that they could fit into one room. 

The air was filled with the scent of champagne bubbles and too much Chanel No. 5. From corner to corner of the room, and even next to the ice sculpture of the lion and the wolf crest, silk, satin; velvet and the best cotton could be found. Long gloves covered the arms of ladies with wrinkling skin, and tweed vests held in the guts of men who indulged in their food just as much as their mistresses. All this effort just to appear as if they had given one care about the philanthropic efforts of the royalty.

Several neatly dressed waiters passed you with golden platters of hors d'oeuvres made of ingredients so expensive, they would’ve cost the same amount as the generous donations made by the attendees. If you could’ve, you would’ve scooped up as many of them as you could, just to eat all of their copious amounts of money yourself, but, there was somewhere a rule that you had to keep your hand to yourself when you were on duty. The best that you had to look forward too was take-out to eat at 3 in the morning with Jeongin later. 

Buzzing chatter filled your earpiece while each of the additional guards gave their hourly report. 

“Damn. It’s fucking colder out here than I thought. It’s fucking summer.” One of them joked to the tune of the other guards laughter. 

“Stay focused.” Jeongin scolded over the line. “Don’t leave your posts until your shifts change.” 

While he was a timid man, Jeongin was not one to mess around. Son of the director, he knew that he had big shoes to fill. After pleading for years for her to admit him into the academy, she had agreed. Everyone knew the reason why she didn’t want him in this line of work. Too many dead. Too many missing. In some ways, he was also yours to look after. 

You trailed after Chan who was busy talking to his assistant and his publicist. While he nodded at their words, you knew that he must’ve been barely listening. Chan never really was one for formality, but much rather enjoyed simplicity and pleasure. Jeongin and you had somewhat of a bet going: out of all the guests, you had liked to bet which one he would take with him to his bedroom. Since you had all the profiles of the guests, you liked to bet a little money on which one it would be. 

Jeongin had guessed it to be the heiress and daughter of a tycoon who had made a multi-million won donation in the name of his company. It was ironic; his very company was a big-scale pollutor who liked to make nice with the crown. She was conventionally very pretty: long legs, a thin frame, she was educated and looked as if she could hold somewhat of a conversation...not like that mattered to him. 

You had predicted it to be the foreign CEO who had just started business dealings with the crown. While she might’ve looked a bit stuck-up and prim, she was intimidating, and a challenge. Chan loved challenges. Chan also had a pension for pretty boys with a bit too much money on their hands--usually inherited--and with nothing much else to do other than dote on him. There were plenty of those attending the gala tonight. 

Chan snaked through the crowd, bowing his head at all of the Good evening, your Highnesses and the It’s a pleasure to meet you, your Highnesses. Every few moments or so he would take a bite from a golden plate and then pop it into his mouth. The whole night long, he would hold his glass with him and it would get refilled for him without him even needing to ask. You sometimes liked to pretend that in some places, they must’ve assigned someone to watch him from afar to make sure that he would never need anything before it was given to him. It wouldn’t have surprised you. 

“Having fun Bee?” Chan languidly rolled his head back, swirling his glass. 

“As much fun as you are.” You quipped. 

“Anything that I should be concerned about?” 

“Nothing of concern.” You stated matter-of-factly. Had you matched his flirting tone, you knew that you wouldn’t hear the end of it for the rest of the night. “Fox. Report?” 

“Nothing that I can see. No one has been tagging you.” Jeongin had staked himself up on the upper balcony of the banquet hall room, and had been watching for as long as you had been following after the prince. “You sensing anything strange?” His voice tickled in your in-ear. 

“Just a bunch of the normal crowd.” You kept your tone down low. “He’s rubbing noses with the usual. You’ve seen too?” 

He chuckled. “Yeah. I know what you mean.”

You followed Chan to his seat nearest the front of the room which had been fashioned into a stage with a clear glass podium in the center. Right in front there was one more crest decorating it. Chan had ensured it to be so: he had wanted everyone to know that this was all for his charity. 

“It seems like our bets aren’t working out. He hasn’t talked to either of the...suspects.” Your partner changed his choice of words knowing that the other guards were listening. 

From the opposite side of the room both the heiress and the CEO stood with thin glasses of wine in their lithe hands. Chan had in fact walked right past them, and didn’t even notice. 

“Tonight is going to be a long night.” Jeongin sighed over the line. 

You politely pushed past attendees with a raised hand and a sweet smile. You had found that when you smiled, you had appeared less intimidating. 

“Oh wait...what’s this?” 

“What?” You whipped your head around after Jeongin’s interjection. “What? Do you see something? What’s the call?” 

“Relax! It just looks like he’s approaching someone he wants to talk to. I think both of us are about to be proven wrong.” 

“Ah, shit.” You sighed. “Don’t put me on edge like that.” 

“I’m only trying to entertain myself.” 

“Name. Who is it? You’ve got the roster.” 

You partner was quiet for a minute, and you watched from a distance as Chan approached the man leaned over a martini seated at one of the perfectly decorated tables. 

“Uh, I think that he’s Lee Minho. Some kind of royalty from somewhere else. Pretty low ranking from the looks of it. I think that he made a donation himself...and it’s...damn, larger than you would expect.” 

“Should we be concerned?” 

“No. Seems harmless.” 

“Thank you for coming,” You made out the words that Chan had mouthed. He drew a chair next to the unknown man. 

From what you could tell, Lee Minho was handsome to the full extent of the word: nearly all of his physical features were exemplary and his suit appeared to have been fitted to perfect for him; likely one of a kind. He too wore an insignia on his lapel, but it was one that you hadn’t recognized before. He had immaculately styled hair that had some kind of rebellious and boyish charm to it. The man had a kind of mystery about him too: you had been able to pride yourself in being able to read people, and it had saved your life on more than one occasion. But with him, there was something that you couldn’t place. 

“Do they know eachother?” You asked Jeongin. 

“Not that I know of. School friend maybe? Seems like all the royals send their kids to the same schools.”

“Hm. That would make sense.” 

“Enjoying yourself?” Chan said. 

Lee Minho nodded, and rose his glass to clink it with the prince’s. 

“Do we think that he’s our...suspect?” 

The stranger dipped his head into his hand as he listened to Chan speak. A flirty gesture that you had seen a hundred times or more. Still, the way that he inspected Chan, it wasn’t adoring. Or at least, you didn’t think that it was.

“No. I don’t think so.” 

“What the hell are you yapping about?” One of the other guards snapped over the line. 

“Um, classified stuff.” Jeongin quickly explained. “Above your paygrade. Don’t worry about it.” 

“Fox. Watch out for him tonight.” You snuck over to a corner of the room where you could watch the two of them more discreetly. 

“Affirmative....” Your partner paused. “Babydoll.” 

“Pffff--Babydoll??” The same guard stifled his laughter. “You call her Babydoll, Fox? Damn, you all must be closer than I thought. Didn’t know that I was missing out on some of the action--” 

“--Ever heard of a codename, Three?” 

“Babydoll’s her codename.” 

A grin crept over your lips. “Expect the unexpected.” 

You had almost gotten distracted enough to miss how Lee Minho had leaned over to whisper something into the prince’s ear. After he had done so, Chan laughed out a little, then reached his arm around the other man’s chair comfortably. 

“They’re...cozy.” You updated your partner. 

“I’m trying to cross-check where he might know him from.” 

Chan’s assistant and publicist finally slipped away with giddy little smiles. In many ways, you were jealous of them. They could leave whenever the wanted, eat what they wanted...

Jeongin scoffed. “Well, turns out...nothing. I can’t find anything.” 

“Nothing?” 

“Negative. I’m not seeing any crossover.” 

“So they really are strangers?” 

Your partner sighed. “Looks like neither of us are cashing ou--I mean--finding the suspect.” 

Under your breath, you wondered aloud, “Who are you...Lee Minho?” 

━━━━━━━━━▲━━━━━━━━━

The night drew on longer with the rest of the formalities: the formal dinner, followed by several speeches from important people while dessert was being served. It all led up to the final act: His Royal Highness, Prince Chan’s speech. On several neat notecards marked with the crest, he held them in front of him while he ate his last bits of Mont Blanc Chocolate Pavlova. Even the name of the sweet itself sounded pretentious. Granted, it smelled delicious--as many expensive things did. 

You stifled a yawn from your little set up on the edge of the room. At least you should’ve been able to sit, but it turns out that sitting is also against the rules in this line of work. A couple other security and bodyguards had joined you at the edge: some of their heads nodded with sleep, and the others looked as if they had taken one too many energy shots. Luckily, your stamina had been well crafted. 

A fancily dressed MC made his way up to the podium and the room filled with applause after the last speaker had said all of their correct mandatory words. 

“It is my honor to introduce to the stage, our wonderful head benefactor of this organization, His Royal Highness, Prince Chan of the Crown. 

Applause tenfold of before erupted through the whole room and it wasn’t even an afterthought for the every attendee to stand up from their seats in an ovation. It was a force of habit for you, but you found yourself clapping as well. 

Chan rose with grace, and re-buttoned his jacket with finesse. A blinding spotlight found him and it made the diamonds adorning his beck wink brilliantly. Even more blinding was his pearl white, and perfectly trained smile accompanied by his wave. 

Thank you. Thank you. He mouthed. 

“It’s like he’s a frickin’ movie star.” Jeongin groaned. 

“Might as well be with the way that they treat him. You know deep down they’re all just terrified.” 

Chan made his way up to the stage in all of his regality, and the applause didn’t stop until he cleared his throat. A collective groaning of a couple hundred chairs squeaked when everyone sat back down. 

“Thank you everyone, really. I wanted to thank you all for your generous support in your donations to this organization, as well as your association with the crown. I’m sure that all the beneficiaries of your donations are beyond thankful compared to me. Without you, this would not be possible.” Chan spoke with grandiose gestures, as usual, but this time, he had found you on the side of the room. “Listen, aside from being a prince, I’m also just a person. A person who knows what it means to struggle, to--” 

“--I can’t listen to this anymore.” You whispered into the quiet room, and to your partner. 

“Just a few more hours.” He droned. “I almost wish that something would happen so that we don’t have to sit though much else of this.” 

“Be careful what you wish for.” 

In the corner of your eye, Lee Minho shifted in his seat, but still kept his undivided attention to the stage. You figured he must’ve been just like the rest of them: enamored by the flashiness of the crown--and Chan. He had a way of putting a spell on people: it was the kind of spell that a prince of deception had crafted after years of being kept under lock and key. 

“--Anyway, what I’m trying to say, royal or fanciful we all might be, in the simplest way, we’re all just people, therefore this is what connects us all. Thank you.” 

Chan was gifted yet another standing ovation that was somehow even more thunderous than before. 

“Yeah right.” You scoffed. “People born into money. There’s a difference.” 

Chan gave his last waves, then a clamor echoed from the back of the room. At first, it had just sounded like the same raucous laughter you had heard all night, but then it shifted to something different. The sound of laugher turned into shouting, then screams: high pitched and piercing. You had seconds to respond, head whipping around the room to catch sight of the confused prince. In your in-ears, the the sound of gunshots echoed with rapid-fire speed. Machine guns. Shouting commands barked in your ear, and muddled with Jeongin’s string of demands and questions. 

“WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON OUT THERE? REPORT! REPORT!” 

Your heart instantly started beating into hyperdrive, and your legs sprinted as fast has physically possible 

“THEY’VE GOT GUNS!” A shrill and cracked voice of an older woman wailed from the back of the room. 

Immediately after she had said so, shots fired into the darkened room with sparks, and the metallic sound of bullets hitting the marbled ground followed. 

Chan looked around in his panic for you, petrified on the stage. You slung your gun out from your thigh holster and latched onto him with all of your might. 

“TH-THEY JUST CAME OUT OF NOWHERE IN THESE VANS. THEY’RE ARMOURED, WE CAN’T--” 

“Get the fuck down there and secure the exists!” Jeongin growled into his mic. “B--is the prince secure??” 

“Secure!” You yelled back. Using your body as a barrier, you led the cowering prince through the mass hysteria of the crowd. 

“Oh fuck. Oh fuck. Shit.” Chan shook under your iron grip. 

More shots fired into the room and bodies parted like the sea and fell over each other. 

From the balcony, you had caught Jeongin aiming his own gun at the chaos below. 

“I’ll cover you! Fuck! There’s so many of them! Get him to the car out back--Three, Six, meet B out there! Three!? Six!? Report!” 

“Three and Six are down F!” One of the guards panted. “I can provide cover out back!!” 

“Who’s speaking??” Jeongin bellowed, then aimed from above at one of the intruders. Your only focus was on weaving you and Chan out of there, but you had seen one of them in a blur. Each of the men with guns wore dark grey suits with black ties and leather gloves. Each of them wore their own crest: and it was all red. 

“Bee?? Bee???” Chan shouted out for you, and jumped every time the crack of a shot echoed in the ballroom. 

“I’ve got you, your Highness. We’ll be out soon. Keep your head down and listen to me.” Your arm held to him tightly, and you soon found the exit nearest. There was no telling if there would be more of them outside, but you loaded your gun quickly just in case, and pointed it out. 

“Jeongin, get your ass down here!” 

“Jeongin? Who the fuck is that??” Chan ducked down to hide himself behind your frame. 

His name had slipped on your tongue, but that hardly mattered. 

“I’ll be down in a second!!!” 

“Don’t fucking waste time up there when I need you down here!!” 

“Two! Two Reporting!!” A man suddenly yelled in your in-ear. “I’ve made it out back and I’ve secured the exit. The car is safe!!” 

“FOX! Now!” 

Your partner heaved, “I’m coming, I’m coming!!” 

You kicked open the exit door, gun’s still blazing, however one one else could be found on the other side. 

“Thank God,” You sighed. 

“Oh shit, I’m gonna be sick.” Chan had turned paler than white, then stumbled in your arms. 

“Hey, HEY!” You held him upright. “It’s gonna be alright. I’ve got you. You’re safe. You need to trust me. Your life is in my hands and I’m not giving it up easy, got it?” 

“O-okay.” He stammered, then attempted to straighten himself. 

“The Prince is outside, repeat, The Prince is outside. Two, are you in position?” 

“Yes. Yes, I am.” 

Other than the fact that you had just escaped absolute peril, the evening was unbearably pleasant. Crickets chirped in the summer evening, and the humidity of the night smelled gorgeously of the lake that was near-by as well as the vast array of flowers that had been purposefully landscaped around the hotel. Chan’s uneven steps scraped at the gravel walkway. 

Since you had canvassed the whole building well, you had known exactly where the getaway car was, but you were still careful. 

“Bee. Bee!” Chan blabbered. “Have-have I told you yet that I-I’m in love with you?” 

“No, you haven’t Your Highness.” 

“I fucking am. If I die tonight, I want you to know that I am ridiculously in love with you, and fuck, I wanna--” 

“--I’m sorry, Your Highness, respectfully, but now is not the time for this and you are not dying on my watch.” 

Somewhere off in the distance, frogs croaked, and the splashing of fish in the lake plopped at the surface waters. You turned a corner to finally see Two waiting his his gun raised. He was a bit of a shorter and scrawnier man, but something about him told you that where he lacked in strength, he must’ve made up for in agility. 

“I’m out! I’m out!” Your partner gasped, and over the in-ear you could hear his running footsteps. “I’m almost there! I’ll be there in a second!” 

“Your Highness,” Two bowed and opened the car door. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you. You can call me Two or J. Either you prefer.” 

Jeongin came bounding around the corner with heaving breaths and his clothes askew. His glasses which just barely held onto his face had a crack on them and his knuckles were covered in blood. 

“Let’s go.” The younger man prompted. 

“In the car you go, Your Highness.” You motioned for him to do so. 

Chan whimpered like a toddler. 

You shoved his body in, “Stop that. Get in the car.” 

“I’m in love with you Bee!” He yelled out, “I’M FUCKING IN LOVE WITH YOU BEE!” 

Jeongin slammed the door in his face with a bit of a chuckle. 

“He’s delirious.” 

“Mm.” your partner smiled. “Sure.” 

#WHOOP #heheh here she is too hehe #stray kids smut #skz smut #stray kids fanfic #skz fanfic #bang chan smut #chan smut #bang chan fanfic #bang chan fanfiction #stray kids imagines #stray kids oneshots #stray kids drabbles #stray kids scenarios #bang chan x reader #bang chan x you #bang chan x y/n #bang chan x female reader #bang chan x female reader smut #kpop smut #kpop fanfic #kpop fanfiction #kpop imagines #kpop drabbles #kpop oneshots #kpop scenarios

[ttttaehyungie]

sincerely, but no longer yours | chapter 5

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sincerely, but no longer yours | ex!kim namjoon x reader

genre | angst, smut, exes au

summary | It started as a coping mechanism as getting the words out provided a form of catharsis. But now you can’t stop writing these love letters, even with the knowledge that they’ll never get sent. After all, who writes love letters to their ex?

word count | 5.2k

chapter rating | 18+

warnings | angst, smut (but it’s angsty smut lksjdflk help), nipple play, dry humping, alcohol consumption, someee intense jealousy

a/n | FIRST OF ALL im so sorry this is so incredibly late lskjdflkjs life has been extremely busy for me 😪 but it’s here!!!! thank you to everybuddy who’s been waiting patiently for this 🤧🤧 but i think this is one of the most angsty chapters of the series soooo 🙃

Namjoon’s an expert at avoiding uncomfortable topics, even if they’re massively serious. It’s something you absolutely hated and it was the cause of many arguments in your previous relationship, and perhaps was even the ultimate cause of your breakup.

But right now, you’re really beginning to understand the appeal.

The first time he swung by the museum for lunch after his birthday celebration - a paper bag in hand filled with bagels still warm and toasty from the store on the corner that you adore - you were caught entirely off guard.

Your mind jumps to the unread messages sitting in your texts and you regret ignoring them. Not because the guilt had hit you, but because maybe if you had been contactable, you would have received a heads-up that he was coming by.

Some might call it selfish, but you prefer to call it self-preservation.

To be fair, it’s not like you were going to leave them unanswered forever. You just needed space to collect your thoughts and make sense of your confusing emotions first, lest you begin the conversation prematurely and drag Namjoon down into the dizzying depths of your current state. As it is right now, your thoughts are like nodes floating in a decontextualized void, the web still unformed because you haven’t had the time to grapple with everything yet.

But here he is, inspecting the cross-section of each bagel Soo-eun pulls out of the bag, trying to identify which is which. Yeri’s at his side, gushing about how great the bagels from this place are. The three of them are crowded around the paper bag that sits on the wooden bench, the paint peeling from the way it’s been bleached by the sun in the museum’s outdoor area. Here he is at your workplace. With your friends. You can’t ignore him now, not without rousing your friends’ suspicion.

But what you can ignore is the issue.

It’s not the time nor the place to talk about this anyway. The atmosphere is warm and light, carrying traces of last night’s celebratory mood. The lunch treat is Namjoon’s way of appreciating the surprise you guys organized for him last night. And there’s a bagel stuffed full of salty sweet ham and sticky melty cheese waiting for you to sink your teeth into. Really not the time for serious conversations at all.

So when Namjoon’s eyes search yours, all wide and probing, as you step in to grab your share, you simply smile and thank him, before slinking away to join Soo-eun on the next bench. Not too far - barely five steps away - but far enough that it gives you space to breathe. Even if Namjoon notices your attempts at escaping, he doesn’t have time to call you out on it. Not when you slyly shoot Yeri a wink. Seamlessly, she catches the cue and sits herself down on the bench, tugging at his arm. For once, you welcome Yeri flirting with Namjoon.

“Let’s eat! I’m starving,” she says.

You don’t miss the way Namjoon’s gaze flickers between you and Yeri, but you ignore it and take a generous bite of the bagel in your hands.

“Mm, so good,” you say, and turn to Soo-eun. “Don’t you miss the days before this place got really popular?”

“No, because you and Yeri insisted on going there every day. I can only ingest so many bagels a week.”

“____ hasn’t changed one bit.” Namjoon chuckles. “This time in middle school, she ate tater tots every single day for three weeks straight. She had to be banned for a week.”

“Are you weaponizing my middle school past against me?” you ask amidst your friends’ laughter. “Too bad. I don’t regret it for a second. Tater tots are too delicious to regret.”

Lunch falls back into the easy rhythm of lighthearted jibes, the kitchen debacle receding for now.

Procrastination is a real bitch of a habit to kick. As soon as one reason to put it off expires, your brain churns out another two in its place like a modern-day Hydra.

As for Namjoon? Well, you’re not surprised when he makes no moves to initiate the difficult conversation. After all, you’re adopting his bad habit.

Eventually it gets to the point where you might as well not talk about it at all. Everything’s going fine so far without it. Or as fine as it can be with this beast looming in the backdrop.

You know you need to just get this damn conversation over with. But you can’t. Not till you figure out what exactly is going on with your emotions. Without it, there’s no way you can cauterize the wounds and invalidate your excuses for what they are -- excuses.

It’s not that you haven’t tried. But it’s presenting itself as a real Herculean effort. Mulling it over has you tossing and turning in bed, only leaving you with a headache and a steadily growing desperation. It’s desperation enough that you leave the comfortable warmth of your bed to sit at your desk, shivering as you pen the familiar words once again.

Dear Namjoon,

The words flow in their usual, unrestricted manner. Before, it had been like a dam breaking, the tight restraint that was normally kept on your emotions finally released and the wave of emotions gushing out till it reached a peaceful equilibrium. But now, your emotions are just a whirlpool and your words you pen mimic its spiralling, chasing your thoughts in endless loops.

You’re not over him. But so what? It’s not like getting together is an option. Not when he hasn’t grown out of one of the major things that caused the end of your previous relationship. And not when you haven’t even talked that out, if you ever will.

So what can you do now? Kicking him out of your life will mean having to deal with the loss that his absence will bring again. Going back to pretending the other doesn’t exist will mean dancing around each other again every time you bump into each other in this too small city. And with the way your social circles are intertwined now, that would mean a bunch of explaining to do.

But having him close yet holding him at arm’s length? Walking the narrow margin that is being friends with your ex? A misstep in either direction would be torturous but inevitable - too close and it’s alarming, but too far and it’s a painful reminder that he’s not yours.

Far from the illuminating effect you were hoping it would have, your letter to Namjoon only leaves you deeper in confusion. You throw your pen down. Giving up, you fold the paper up. Sealing the letter in an envelope doesn’t bring the same sense of relief it did before. The Hydra remains unslain.

And so the problem gets shoved away - the same treatment the letter gets as it’s roughly tossed into the desk drawer - into the same corner of the recesses of your mind that your breakup resides in.

You know that Namjoon’s confused. Heck, you are too. It’s a strange dance the two of you are involved in, caught between the compulsion to continue yet knowing the risks it bears. Neither of you are bold enough to take the lead. And so this strange stasis drags on as it has for weeks now.

It’s as if the kiss unearthed something in him. Actually no, it’s unearthed something in both of you. And the tension - the fucking tension - is unreal. The tells are so obvious that you wonder how neither Yeri nor Soo-eun have said anything about it yet. There’s certainly no subtlety in the way his eyes linger on your lips in the middle of conversations that you wonder if he’s even aware he’s doing it.

And when it’s just the two of you? It’s infinitely worse.

It’s hard to blame him. Touch has always been your love language and Namjoon knows it. Physical touch wasn’t just a thing of your previous two-year relationship. It was a thing of your decades of friendship too, the little touches so casual and almost subconscious. Rekindling your friendship without them had taken intentional effort.

You’re not sure who started it. Maybe both of you just fell back into it, the casual little touches slipping their way back in. But what’s not casual at all is the way your heartbeat goes erratic at the most simple of gestures. The way he blithely sweeps the crumbs from your lunch off your lap. The slightly too long side-hug he holds you in, the warmth of his arm around you permeating through the layers you wear and has you simultaneously freezing up while also turning your insides to goo. But it isn’t overtly romantic either.

At least, that’s the excuse you give yourself when the comfort of his touch gets too tempting and you end up succumbing to it. The familiarity of it all makes you feel like you’ve finally arrived home. As if you’ve been on this long, arduous journey and you’re finally here. You get to drop the heavy backpack and rest now.

But the voice of rationality in you tells you this wrong wrong wrong. You’ve got to get out of here.

And that’s how you end up here. White-knuckled grip tight on the edges of the sink as you stare yourself dead in the eyes in the bathroom mirror. The music outside thumps away albeit muted through the door to the ladies’. But the way your heart thumps has nothing to do with that.

Even without shifting your gaze, you can tell that your cheeks are slightly reddened and warm. You can feel it tingling. No, you don’t shift your gaze. It stays fixed on the intense stare that your reflection throws back at you like a challenge, the ferocity of it enhanced by the sharp eyeliner you’re wearing tonight, an uncharacteristic look for you.

Heck, this whole night is uncharacteristic.

You could take the easy route and blame it on Yeri. God knows she can be real persuasive - it’s why she’s excellent at her job. So getting you all out to the club on a Friday night to celebrate nothing other than the simple joy that - c’mon guys, we’re all young and alive and free and tell me that’s not worth celebrating and I’ll fucking fistfight you right here and now even with my freshly manicured nails - is no feat for her.

Still, no one really expected your simple reply, tone nonchalant and eyes still glued to your work screen, “Yeah, I could use a night out.”

Soo-eun had remained silent but you could feel her stiffen slightly beside you. Yeri had been surprised too but more elated that she didn’t have to get through your usual ten solid minutes of whining and half-baked attempts at slithering your way out of it.

But back to the present. Your bodycon dress - one of the rare pieces that survived not just your college partying days but also the wardrobe purge that occurred when you had to downsize everything to fit into the tiny apartment that’s quintessential to city-living - expands with your chest as you take a deep breath. Gripping the hem where it sits mid-thigh, you yank it down slightly. It’s been a while since you’ve worn this dress. And while the younger, more risque version of you that was your college self had been enthralled by the daringness of the dress, your current self has to dig deep to muster up that same boldness.

Relenting as you realize that this is the limit to how much you can stretch the length of your dress, you let go and your fingertips unintentionally brush your thigh as it falls back to your side. It elicits a shudder, the sensation of your own fingers too close to the electrifying feeling of someone’s thumb skimming across it. It was electrifying enough that your brain finally powered up again, voice of rationality sending you skedaddling away, out of reach of his touch, and pathetically seeking refuge in the washroom.

You roll your shoulders back and shake your head, dispelling the thoughts. Standing upright, you look yourself in the eye again. You can do this. You’re going to go out there, and you’re going to have a good time with your friends. You’re going to have a good time with Namjoon. With a nod of affirmation, you turn and saunter your way back to the club with a confidence that has your chin firmly tipped upwards.

You push the door open and look for your friends. The sight that greets you immediately punctures your confidence and your steady posture falls limp.

It’s hard to miss her silvery dress - the dress you knew she would wear and the dress that your very own was meant to counter. It catches the light and grabs attention. And at this moment, it grabs your attention so you can witness Yeri standing between Namjoon’s manspread thighs as he’s perched on the barstool, her hands all over him.

Whatever puffed up confidence you’d had is knocked out of you with that sucker punch of a sight. You turn away, needing to look anywhere but at them.

And that’s when your line of sight falls on a curly-haired man, oddly familiar, and apparently someone you know since he’s waving to you.

“____, hey!” he yells over the music.

“Dong-In?”

He nods and smiles at you. “It’s been a while.”

“Wait.” You gasp. “I was supposed to get back to you on brunch, wasn’t I?” Damn. You’ve been so wrapped up with Namjoon that you totally forgot about Dong-In. “I’m so sorry, I’ve been really caught up with things.”

“It’s no biggie.” He shrugs boyishly. “The exhibition, right?”

“Yeah, yeah.” Sure, the exhibition. Let’s go with that.

“And nothing to do with…” he directs his gaze - and yours along with it - to none other than Namjoon who’s now drinking with Yeri.

Your gaze snaps back to Dong-In and his cheshire grin.

“Nah,” you feign a laugh. “He’s just a friend.”

“The hand he had on you sure didn’t look like just friends.”

“I said we’re just friends,” you snap, then gasp, taken aback by your own outburst. “Fuck, I’m sorry.”

“Nah, I should be the one apologizing. I hit a nerve there, didn’t I. D’you wanna talk about it?” His voice is warm and mellow and oh so inviting. And you very nearly give in.

But you can’t pull him into your problems. It’s not his burden to bear.

“Not really. But thanks, Dong-In.”

“That’s cool.” He nods, and relief fills you. This is what you’ve always liked about Dong-In. He’s chill. “Well since we’re here, wanna get buzzed?”

You laugh. “I won’t say no to that.”

The bar isn’t too far from where you are, and it doesn’t take long before the burn of alcohol is sliding down your throat. Picking up the conversation again, you have to admit, you’d forgotten how easy it is to talk to Dong-In. He’s got that effortless charisma and an easy sense of humor that you can vibe with. Things are simple with him. There’s no line to be tiptoed. Flirting - now that you’re no longer obtuse and you’re finally aware that he is indeed flirting with you - isn’t accompanied by guilt or fear.

And after weeks of this complicated situation with Namjoon, simplicity is what you crave.

“Hey, do you wanna dance?” you ask suddenly. Surprise colors his features for a moment but he laughs it off.

“Is the conversation boring you? You could have just told me to shut up if you wanted me to,” he jokes.

“No!” You laugh. “There’s just a good beat going and-”

“I’m just kidding. I’d love to.” He smiles and grabs your hand.

The two of you weave your way through the mass of gyrating bodies. Lightly buzzed, the fog and the strobe lights blurring everything around you other than your dance partner, you finally find the courage you’ve been searching for this whole time. Dong-In hasn’t been very subtle about checking you out all night, and it gives you that extra boost of confidence that’s finally quelled the antsy thoughts and calmed the fidgety adjustments to your dress’s hemline.

So when his hands find your waist, you step in a little closer and run your hands through your hair, shaking it out and finally letting loose as your hips rock to the pounding beat. Dancing with Dong-In is much like conversing with him- easy and simple fun with just the slightest tinge of excitement. As your hips sway together in languid synchrony, you catch a whiff of the slightly intoxicating combination of his cologne and the undertones of his own natural scent. You give in to the giddying sensation of his hands running lightly over your body and press in closer, eyes fluttering shut, and just feeling. It’s thrilling. It’s risque. It’s-

A solid grip on your wrist yanks you forward and stumbling into a hard chest.

His voice is gruff as he bites out his words, “Get your hands off her.”

“Namjoon?” you gape.

“We’re leaving.” His eyes fix on yours, steely and piercing. A shiver runs down your spine - in all your years of knowing him, you’ve never seen him like this. He tugs on your wrist once more. “Now.”

Dazed by this brand new persona, you don’t even get to say goodbye to Dong-In, just pulled along by the force that is a quietly fuming Namjoon. Everything happens so quickly that it’s all a blur until you’re in the Uber with him, silently clutching onto your purse as an anchor in this sudden whirlwind of events. The anger emanates off of him even in the dimly lit backseat.

“What the fuck?” you whisper, but the shock diminishes the level of conviction in your voice.

He turns to you, the same hardness still in his gaze. “I should be the one asking that.”

“What?!” you snap. In your peripheral vision, you see the Uber driver jump slightly. Lowering your tone, you hiss, “What gives you the right?”

“What gives me the right?” he echoes incredulously, scoffing and turning away from you to face forward instead as he rolls his eyes. “This is ridiculous.”

The car slows to a stop and you recognize your apartment building. You scramble to get away from him. But it seems your confrontation is far from over. Namjoon unbuckles his own seatbelt to follow you.

Terse silence sits between you, the aggravated stomping of your feet as you climb the stairs the only thing that fills the sound.

You turn sharply round the corner, stalking off to your apartment door. “You don’t have to escort me y’know, I’m perfectly capable of getting home by myself.”

“Really?” He folds his arms and leans on the wall next to your door. “It’s hard to trust you when you go off getting drunk and throwing yourself at a random stranger in the club.”

“Is that what the problem is?” You finally ram the key in, and the click as it unlocks is as harsh as your tone. “Sorry to break it to you, but I have a life apart from you. He’s no stranger. His name is Dong-In, he’s Yeri’s friend, and he’s a great guy.”

You shove the door open. Your heels get kicked off and left haphazardly at the entryway, shoe cabinet ignored.

“Wow, some great guy he is,” Namjoon slams the door shut and his shoes get discarded off his feet in the same fashion, “drunkenly feeling you up in a club.”

“Fuck!” You turn, wringing your hands in your hair. Your glares rival each other. “You say it as if I was strung along by him. Well I wasn’t. I initiated it.”

His glare flickers for a moment. He stays silent.

“Just admit that you’re jealous,” you whisper. You unsling your purse and dump it on top of the shoe cabinet, never breaking eye contact.

“Fine.” Namjoon’s gaze doesn’t waver. “I am.”

He skulks forward and traps you between him and the cabinet, gaze holding yours. Namjoon’s always towered over you, but at the moment it isn’t his height that makes you feel tiny.

“Watching his hands all over you like this,” Namjoon’s hands slowly skim the back of your thighs and up your sides and you bite back a whimper, “makes me jealous.”

“And watching you respond like this?” He continues as a firm hand presses the small of your back to close the gap between your torsos. “Glued to him like this? It makes me jealous.”

“You don’t own me,” you whisper but it only elicits a sardonic laugh from him.

“You say that, but you know damn well that’s not the truth. Tell me. Are you jealous?”

“What would I-”

“Yeri.” Damn. Straight through the bullshit. With an eyebrow cocked, it’s obvious he knows the answer and he’s not budging, not even an inch.

“Yes,” you admit quietly. “I’m jealous.”

“Silly girl.” He traces the hemline of your dress. “I only want you.”

A soft keening noise spills out of you. “I’m so sick of holding back.” You tug on his dress shirt, and the feel of his plush lips finally, finally meeting yours snips the final frayed cords of self-restraint you possessed.

Namjoon is quick to reciprocate, and you moan as his tongue licks at your bottom lip. Hooking your arms around his neck, you pull him closer, needing nothing else but to have him close after all this time of distance. He hoists you up, and your legs circle his waist to aid him. The world around you sets into motion as he walks you to your bed, and you anchor yourself by pressing kisses to his neck.

With how tiny your apartment is, it takes no time for him to carry you from the entryway to your bedroom. The cool sensation of your unmade sheets envelops you as he lowers you down onto the bed. He barely gets a moment to appreciate the sight of you, hair mussed and lipstick smudged, lounging on the bed and waiting for him. Desperate for his touch and running out of patience, you gesture to the zip on the side of your dress. Hurrying, he pulls the zipper down as you tug your arms out of the thin straps of the garment. You sit up and let the torso of the dress fall to bunch up at your waist, revealing your bare chest to him.

The quiet gasp that escapes him as he beholds you is infinitely flattering. It’s but a momentary pause. He dives forward into action again. An arm looped around your back to support you as your chest arches upwards, he crouches over you to take one perked-up tit into the heat of his mouth, his free hand coming up to toy with the other. His tongue laves over your nipple in a slippery flick. The other gets pinched and rolled, leaving you gasping at the delicious sensations.

“Namjoon,” you moan out breathily, and it only eggs him on. You whimper as he begins sucking on the bud and wetness pools between your thighs. Your fingernails rake down his back, muted through the layer of his dress shirt.

“M-more,” you plead. He releases your breast and moves his mouth upwards, trailing gentle pecks till he kisses along the length of your collarbone.

“Come here,” he commands, his words breathy and hot as they puff against the thin skin of your clavicle. He scoots back to lean against the headboard, and you follow hastily.

You clamber on top of him, knees bent and straddling his lap as he helps you hike the skirt of your dress up. But before you seat yourself atop the prominent bulge in the lightwash denim of his jeans, he holds you still with a firm grasp on your hip.

His thumb trails the lace detail of your panties, the patterns snaking across your hip bone, baby pink like your dress.

“Gorgeous,” he mumbles. His fingers wander to your clothed core, the material slightly sheer from the damp spot of your arousal. He strokes it tenderly with the pad of his finger, so light that it has you quivering as you hover above him.

His fingernail grazes your slit through the wet material and a gasp catches in your throat. You clench around nothing as carnal desire throbs through your core.

“Namjoon, please,” you whine.

Finally, he gives in to you and pulls you down. Your laced core meets his rough denim-clad one. The stiff material of his jeans pokes through the delicate fabric of your underwear, the friction rough as he drags you over his clothed bulge. The burn is delicious. His hands on you set a slow but steady rhythm that you follow easily, canting your hips in time. It’s enrapturing to watch the way you grind on one another, your clit rubbing up on the apex of his bulge in mutual pleasure.

A finger tips your chin up from the sight you were fixated on.

“Eyes on me.”

It’s difficult. Pleasure has your eyes drooping shut. But the intensity of his gaze compellingly holds yours and you manage, even if barely. His expression is stoic, and it’s only the twitch of his dick that betrays how affected he is. You, on the other hand, are completely abandoned to pleasure. Hands scrabbling across his upper back and up until they settle themselves as fists gripping tufts of his hair, teeth clamped on your bottom lip as moans spill out of you at increasing frequency as your pleasure climbs and climbs and climbs until-

Burrowing your face into the side of his neck, you pant as you cross the peak. Hips now stilled, your climax has you throbbing against his hardened member. You cling onto him with your arms around his neck as you free-fall in the subsiding pleasure. Bare chest brushing against the smooth material of his dress shirt, you catch your breath and yield to the moment.

“Shit,” he mutters. “Shit.” Louder this time. “Shit, shit, shit.”

The regret in his words yank you out of the heady fog of lust. There’s no time to bask in the afterglow. Reality comes crashing down hard and mercilessly.

Suddenly, you feel so small and so exposed. You read his regret as rejection. Your nudity and previous salacious actions make you feel stupid.

Namjoon attempts to extricate your arms from around him, but shame has you clutching to him tighter, hiding your face in his neck. You can still feel him under you, but it’s now an uncomfortable reminder of the act you just committed.

“Hey,” his voice is gentle now, pleading, “look at me? Please?”

You refuse. It’s impossible to look him in the eye right now.

“Fuck.” Even whispered, the panic laced in his tone is blatant. Gently, he maneuvers both of you to turn over. Feeling the mattress underneath you as you’re laid on your back, you release your hold on him and swiftly turn and tug your blanket up to hide away from him.

“____.” He tries. You grip the sheets even tighter as you feel him trying to pull it away from your face. “Please.”

Embarrassment. Guilt. Mortification. They overtake you and you curl in on yourself. You just want to disappear.

“____,” he tries again, hand stroking your head. But you don’t allow yourself to succumb to its comfort. “Talk to me. Please.”

Oh, now he wants to talk.

Why couldn’t you have just talked things out earlier? Why only now when things have fallen apart? Why now when you’ve just done something so stupid and so reckless?

Why now when it’s too late? What can talking possibly do to fix this now?

His pleas are met with silence.

“I’m gonna get you some water,” he says resignedly.

More silence. He sighs. You feel the mattress shift as he gets up. From where you’re still hiding in the stuffy darkness underneath your blanket, you hear his footsteps return and the muted thud of the glass getting placed on your bedside table.

The silence returns, but you can feel his presence. You imagine he’s staring at your blanket lump on the bed.

Finally, the heavy quietness is broken with a deep breath, and you hear him say softly, “Get a good night’s rest, okay? Let’s talk about this tomorrow.”

The light clicks off and you’re plunged into lonely pitch-black darkness. In the distance, you hear the heavy opening and closing of your front door as Namjoon leaves.

Unearthing yourself to the coolness of the night, your dress an uncomfortable lump around your waist, your breasts slightly sore from his previous ministrations, you stare up at the ceiling as hot tears leak out.

It’s well into the afternoon by the time you drag yourself out of bed the next day. Sleep came intermittently and was far from restful, but waking up meant facing the nightmarish reality of what had transpired. So you hid under the covers for as long as you could. But you know you can’t stay there forever.

The buzzing notifications of your phone had woken you up on more than one occasion in the night. But you ignore it and leave your phone next to the glass of water - still untouched - in favor of washing up. It’s more pressing anyway, you surmise. You can feel your make-up, now icky and caked on your face. It’s awful. Your skin is probably revolting against you now and you don’t even want to think about the mess it probably left on your pillowcase. But last night, you were simply paralyzed by the weight of what you’d done, crying till sleep finally came for you.

You take your time going through an extensive skincare routine, even busting out the clay mask you had impulsively bought together with Yeri when it was on discount. You’re doing it because your skin needs the pampering and definitely not because you’re procrastinating getting to your phone.

But there’s only so many steps you can do with the limited skincare products in your apartment. And you know your friends are probably worried about your abrupt disappearance last night. Getting to those messages first, you quickly assure Soo-eun and Yeri that you’re safe at home. Looking at the remaining notifications, you sigh.

Missed calls Namjoon (8)

7 unread messages from 2 chats Namjoon: are you still sleeping? Namjoon: hey, you still asleep? Namjoon: text me when you’re up please? Namjoon: are you awake?

Dong-In: hey! Dong-In: not sure what exactly happened at the end there haha, but it was rly great seeing u again. Dong-In: i’m still waiting on that brunch reschedule, by the way.

Memories from last night come back to you. Dong-In runs his hands through his curls, an easy grin on his face as he leans in to listen to you over the loud music of the club. Things are simple with Dong-In. And, standing on the precipice of a mental spiral whenever you think of Namjoon, the same craving for simplicity from last night returns.

[2:06pm] ____: well it’s a little late for brunch right now

[2:06pm] ____: but you still up to grab a bite?

#btswriterscollective #btswritingcafe #ficswithluv #bangtanhq #bangtanfairygarden #bangtanarmynet #btsbookclub #btsguild #bts fic #bts series #bts angst #bts smut #bts exes au #bts x reader #namjoon x reader #namjoon series #namjoon angst #namjoon smut #namjoon exes au #namjoon fic #knj fic #knj series #knj angst #knj smut #knj exes au #knj x reader

[zelinkwrites]

A Mother’s Love

post calamity aoc timeline. started writing this, accidentally deleted it you get the gist here we go 

Rita sat underneath the apple tree in her backyard, watching her daughter Aryll play with the stick she found. 

“Mom! Mom! MOM! Look! Watch this!” yelled Aryll as she threw the stick in the air and caught it after it flipped once. “Mom, did you see that!”

“Yes, sweetheart that was very cool! I’m very proud of you.”

The little girl smiled at her mother’s praise and ran with her stick into the front yard. 

“Aryll, do not fall into that pond! I don’t want you to catch a cold!” Rita, understanding her rest time was over, stood up and began making her way around to the front yard to make sure her energetic young daughter didn’t get herself into some trouble. For just a second she wished just one of her children had been born with a quiet and serene personality. Oh, but she wouldn’t change either of them for the world. 

Speaking of her other child, Link had written home not long ago saying he intended to visit within the month. It had been so long since she had seen her son, what with his having been busy at the castle. She thought about her son, about the muddy, rowdy little boy she raised and how he had grown into such a handsome, mature young man. Oh she was so very, very proud of him. She’ll never forget the look on his face when he came home from a trip with his dad with a new sword strapped to his back, one almost at tall as him. The same sword that would grow to become such a burden to him. Rita had pledged one thing then: be as big a comfort and confidante for her son as he needed. Such is a mother’s love. Anything Link thought, he could tell her, unashamedly. Such is a mother’s love. Whenever he needed someone to hold him as he cried, she would be there. Such is a mother’ s love. Whenever he got hurt and needed someone to clean his wound and comfort him, she would be there, bandage in hand. Such is a mother’s love. As she rounded the corner of their home, she looked out at Hyrule, thanking the Goddesses for protecting her son while he protected the kingdom. 

Aryll ran up to her mom, panting from the rigorous lap around the house she just made. “Mom. Mom, when is Link gonna be here? I want to show him my stick trick.”

“I’m not exactly sure, love. Any day now, you know Link has always been timely.” She smiled at her daughter’s impatience and patted her unruly dirty blonde hair down into a more manageable shape. “But don’t worry, he’ll be here soon enough and I’m sure he’ll be sooooo impressed with your talents.”

She watched as her daughter smiled ear to ear, and noticed, as if her words summoned him, blue fibers of light gathering in front of the shrine across the bridge from their house. Aryll followed her mother’s line of sight and yelled as she saw her big brother materializing at the shrine. She sped across the bridge, as fast as her little legs would carry her, and got halfway across the bridge before her brother was there, jogging to meet her, picking her up, upside down, much to his sister’s delight, as evidenced by her maniacal giggling. He continued across the bridge but only after turning behind him to see if his surprise guest was following him. He walked up to his mom, still holding Aryll by her ankles. 

“Put her down before you drop her on her head.” Rita admonished before hugging her son and kissing his cheek. “Have you gotten taller since you were here last? I think you have...”

Link cleared his throat before stepping out of the way and letting his mother see who he had brought with him. Behind him was a gorgeous young lady with long golden hair, wearing a blue blouse with black trousers. Her hands were crossed in front of her and she looked very nervous, almost as if she felt she didn’t belong here. 

“Well, who is this?” asked Rita, although the answer was glaringly obvious. 

“This is Zelda, even though you probably already knew that. She said she had never been to Hateno and asked if I could... take her.”

“Well, hello Princess, it’s a pleasure to meet you!” Rita said, slightly bowing, mostly for show. 

“Oh! Please just Zelda is fine, really! It’s fantastic to finally see this village. Link has told me much about it, and you too.”

“Oh is that so? Well come on in, I’d love to hear what else my son has told you.”

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

The visiting pair settled in, Link making a show of giving Zelda his bed and volunteering to sleep in a completely separate room (aw, showing propriety in front of his parents, how knightly). 

Rita knew her son well, though, being one of the only people in Hyrule who could read him like a book. She knew he was hiding something. And she was confident in her ability in getting to the bottom of it. She noticed it first in the way he really had to work to separate himself from the princess. He made sure he was always about five feet away from her. Next, she noticed the blush that stained the princess’ cheeks whenever their hands brushed over dinner, passing a plate. Third, she noticed Link’s stare lingering on Zelda for just a moment longer than was really necessary. The thing that cemented her theory, however, was the beautiful necklace that slipped out of the princess’ collar one day when she was helping her in the garden. It looked strikingly similar to the one Rita’s mother had given Link before she passed away many years ago. Interesting.

She decided to corner Link one day and force the answer out of him. After all, such is a mother’s love. She saw the golden opportunity when Zelda was outside watching Aryll’s “stick tricks” as she called them. She slipped in front of her son right before he opened the door to walk outside. “Soooo...”

Link’s eyes got wide and he immediately started turning red, just like he did when he got caught doing something he shouldn’t have been as a child. 

“The princess seems really nice.”

“Uh, yeah, yeah she is.”

“And she’s so gorgeous, also. Those ballads really weren’t lying!” 

“Ahaha, yeah I guess so...” Link said, ruffling the hair on the back of his head.

“That’s good for you!”

“Yea- er what?” Link said, reddening even more. 

“Well that means you won’t have to guard her through that courting stage for too long. That happened to your father you know. He still talks about having to guard the late queen when she was courting the king. Having to stand there while they make heart eyes at each other, obsess over each other’s looks, try to impress the other, oh your father hated it!” 

Link’s face got somehow even more red as he heard his mother talk about the princess courting someone. Rita definitely did not miss that look he got. “Oh, uh yeah. That-that’s... good.” Link was looking everywhere except for his mother’s eyes. 

“However that beautiful necklace she’s got on means maybe she already has a suitor. Wouldn’t that be something?” 

He’d been found out. He told Zelda it was a bad idea to wear the necklace. He told her he wouldn’t be offended if she left it at the castle. But no, she just had to wear it. He can’t stay mad at her though. Link stayed silent, still not looking at his mother as the blush creeped into the tips of his ears. 

“How long has it been going on?” asked Rita, smiling slyly. 

Link sighed and said under his breath, “About four months.”

“Oh my goodness! My little boy has a girlfriend!” 

“Mom...” said Link, who was madly scrambling to put away the smile that was on his face. Rita grabbed him by the wrist and pulled him over to their couch. 

“Ok tell me everything.” And he did. Starting with his appointment, to the assassination attempt, to the end of the calamity, ending with current day, Rita shrieking whenever he recounted something particularly cute. 

“Oh I’m so proud of you!” Rita grabbed her son and embraced him so hard he had to tap out to breathe. Then she got an impish little smile on her face and leaned in and whispered, “Have you kissed her yet?”

“Mom!” he exclaimed, the blush coming back to his face. She jabbed him in the belly and after they both calmed down Link quietly, almost too quiet to hear said, “yeah”. 

“Link!” Rita playfully admonished her son, shoving his shoulder, pushing him onto the couch a little bit. She wasn’t strong enough to really push him over so she knew he did it for show. “Well, just know I like her a lot. Really.” she leaned and kissed her son on the cheek again. 

“Me too.” Link said, a fond smile on his face. “We’ve been through a lot together. She’s had a lot of issues with her dad and, you know, with her mom dying when she was younger. I’m just glad she feels... comfortable here.”

Rita smiled and traced little circles on her son’s back as they sat in comfortable silence. 

“Well, I should probably go out there before Aryll makes her fight her with a stick or something.”

Rita laughed and watched her son walk out and greet Zelda with a kiss on the cheek. Right then she made another vow: to extend that same amount of comfort to Zelda, as well. Such is a mother’s love.

extra content !!!

Aryll gaped when she saw her brother kiss the princess. It prompted a lot of questions in her mind.  “Are you guys dating? Link do you like the princess? Does she like you? Will I be a princess if you guys get married? Will you be king? Does mom know? Oh my goodness does dad know? He’s gonna kill you Link. I won’t tell him don’t worry. Are you guys gonna get married? Can I be the flowergirl? Can we live in the castle?”

Link and Zelda both stood there, in awe of the stream of questions being produced from such a little brain. Link looked at Zelda apologetically, but also in a “I told you so” type of way. Zelda giggled and cut off Aryll’s questions. “Aryll, how about you show Link that trick you showed me earlier!”

“Oh yeah, Link, you’re gonna love this!” She got in her position to throw the stick and Link looked at Zelda nodding his thank you.

#loz #tloz #zelda #princesszelda #link #zelink #fanfic #fic #linksmom #aryll #bigbrotherlink #newrelationship #cute #botw #lozbotw

[writing-gifts]

datura (moth!bruno x butterfly!reader)

-----

A/N: it’s summer timeee and this chapter came out longer than i thought it would First Chapter || Previous Chapter || Next Chapter

Reader is gender neutral!

-----

[Early Summer]

Your friend Spring was apparently on their way out with Summer on the way in, and with that came more heat and unfortunately, more bugs. It was noticeably getting more crowded in the fields where you would usually gather.

But you had a plan! The plan being that you’d just wait until later in the day to get your food. It was slightly less crowded later in the day so you might as well save yourself some trouble.

So after spending the majority of your day doing what you pleased, you’d go later in the day to get nectar and usually not a moment later after returning home, Bruno would show up. But then one day he doesn’t, which is fair. He could be busy. But then one day turns into three. Then soon a whole week passes.

It wasn’t a long time, but it wasn’t what you were used to. You wanted to confide in Abby but you were worried that it might give them reason to think negatively about Bruno. So at this point, you can't help the negative thoughts swarming your mind.

Did I do something wrong?….Did he get tired of me?

You didn’t want to spend the whole day like this so going to where you both first met seemed like the best option. Unfortunately, there was a good possibility that he wouldn’t be there. 

Well even if he doesn’t show, you were out of Datura nectar and you really wanted--no-- needed some, so at least it wouldn’t be all for nothing. You reason that you could feel your way back home too. It had been awhile since you had been to that area but you felt like you still remembered the path back. 

The worst thing that could happen is Bruno being upset with me...

So you purposely wait at home until the late evening to leave. 

Flying there doesn’t take too long, and soon your feet land on one of the leaves of the many flowers in the area. All the Daturas’ petals were still shut so you have to wait. 

Standing around, you realize the grass has gotten much taller and much more easy to get lost in. Your head droops slightly as you stare at the dirt paths being overtaken by the grass a distance below you. You could already see the predicament future you would be in if you decided to stay.

“I swear you’re the only butterfly that would willingly travel in the dark.”

Your body jumps, almost sending you off the edge of the leaf. 

You turn towards the familiar voice wide-eyed. “Y-You scared me!” 

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to surprise you.”

While steadying yourself, you almost miss the slight look of worry the moth is giving you. “I’m okay...Uh, it’s been awhile?” 

Bruno nods. “It has. I had to deal with an emergency so that’s why I couldn’t visit you. My son got sick.”

“You have a kid!?” You cover your mouth “Ah, sorry! Is he okay?”

“Yes. It got pretty bad at one point, but he’s back on his feet now. 

“That's good…”

You stare at the Daturas in the distance. You wonder how long they'll stick around.

The silence feels awkward but you didn't know what to say next, but luckily Bruno speaks first.

“I'm sorry, for disappearing without a word.”

You tilt your head, confused on why he was apologizing. “You shouldn't apologize. Your child comes first, you know?”

“But you were worried though and I caused that.”

“How do you know that?”

“It was clearly on your face--you were struggling to look at me a moment ago,” Bruno points out.

“Yea...Okay, I was worried but it's not something you should feel guilty about either!” You frown, trying to get things past this moth was too hard. 

Not being able to control your anxieties has finally worn you down so you sit down on the leaf. The urge to climb into any flowers was gone for the moment.

Bruno watches you before walking closer and sitting next to you.  

“Soooo , how come you never mentioned having a kid?”

“There wasn’t really a reason to.”

Maybe that was a valid answer, but it was kind of weird . Most bugs were ready to mention they have children at any given moment, but it’s not like Bruno was keeping some terrible secret from you so you shrug it off.

“How old is he?”

“Narancia--he turned 3 recently.”

You trace the irregular lines on the leaf with your finger. “That’s a cute name. You and your m-mate must be really happy.”

“Actually, I’m the only one taking care of him.”

You backtrack immediately. "OH! W-Well now I want to visit your home even more now." 

That came out way too rushed and you meant it jokingly, but it didn't mean you hadn’t considered it before.

“I wouldn't mind that. We just need to plan accordingly.”

You didn't expect him to agree so quickly so it shows on your face before you can prevent it.

“What?” Bruno asked.

“Nothing--Maybe it would be better to go at night so it won’t disturb your sleep?”

“No, it’s fine. The day would actually be best and it’s safer.”

The two of you continue to sit together like that, talking until the moon is fully out. 

You lean back on your hands as you stare at the freckled night sky. “I never really get to look at the stars much so this is kind of nice.” 

“There’s a lot of them out tonight. Slightly more than usual,” Bruno says.

You enjoy the view a little longer before standing up. You smile a bit bashfully at Bruno.

“Can you help me back home please?”

“Of course, you don’t even need to ask. Do you want to fly back?”

“Lets just walk...” This was a good way to spend extra time with your friend. You weren’t exactly sure how you would manage to fly back anyways.

It took twice as much time to get back home by walking, but Bruno didn’t seem bothered at all as he held your hand and guided you through the overgrown foliage in the path you'd taken before with him.

All that happened had cleared a good amount of your worries, but some of the original doubt you had before not seeing the moth for a week still sat within you. So when you both reach your home you thank Bruno for his help, but before he can leave you ask him a question. 

“I know this is dumb, but do you enjoy my company?”

“Yes.” The answer comes with no hesitation and Bruno’s glowing eyes stare intently at you. His head tilts slightly. “Do I not seem like it?”

“Oh no! I just needed to make sure…”

“You seem to overthink a lot.”

There was no denying that so you look off to the side unsure what to say.

“Trust me when I say that I do like you, and if I don't like something I'll make sure to tell you.”

Your brows raise at the somewhat intense declaration but it did help reassure you so you nod.

Once you say your goodbyes and Bruno departs, you go back inside. And as you get ready for bed you realize that you forgot about the Datura nectar.

----

“Are you ready for this?”

Bruno gives you the most skeptical look you’ve seen from him. There’s also a pinch of exhaustion on his face. It’s so well hidden, if you hadn’t spent so much time with him you wouldn’t have noticed. 

“I really don’t think it's hot enough for this.”

“What do you mean? It's super hot!

“Not really. Your heat tolerance must not be very high.” 

“I don’t know about that, but it’s whatever. Whatever happens, happens,” you laugh a bit. 

“Do you have the proper tools?”

“I do! I managed to get a whole oven, it's on the lower quality side though.”

So I'm really hoping I’m not overestimating the weather today.

“Anyways it’s outside in the back!”

You move excitedly ahead of Bruno as you walk-jog outside to the back of your home.

You stop in front of your oven and wait for Bruno to catch up.

“I don't know how it exactly works but the bug I got it from showed me how to use it. All you have to do is turn this knob.”

You shield your eyes from the sun shining from the center of the sky and reach for the nob. Your hand stops when you realize you don’t remember where you were supposed to actually turn it. Barely a second passes before you decide to make an educated guess. As long as it was hot enough it shouldn’t be too much of an issue. Probably.

“Thanks for coming over in the middle of the day by the way. Did you find someone to watch Narancia?”

“Yes. He wanted to come but I didn’t want to risk it with him just getting over his sickness. On top of that, carrying him all the way over here would be annoyi--difficult. Staying still can be a struggle for him.”

Between his slip up and the image of a cute squirmy little moth in Bruno’s arms, you can’t help smiling. “I guess I’ll just have to take the cooking to your home then.”

You wonder how much the little moth took after his father.

“Let's go back inside. We actually gotta mix the stuff together now.”

After you both enter the kitchen, you start pulling out the ingredients, which you should have definitely done earlier. 

“What are we making exactly?” Bruno asks, watching you flit back and forth.

“A simple pound cake. We can use whatever nectar in it too. So it’s gonna be a Datura one!”

“You are obsessed with that flower…”

You grin, “And you help nurture the obsession.”

“Like you wouldn't run to get it yourself if I stopped giving it to you.”

“Sounds like a tough spot pal.”

You almost laugh at the look the moth gives you.

Bruno assists you in the kitchen, your personal sous-chef , while you follow the recipe to make the cake. Once the batter is in the baking pan, you go out and put it in the preheated oven.

You make sure to grab the small hourglass you had gotten along with the oven and flip it over. After placing it on the low table in front of your daybed, you relax back into the bed’s comfortable cotton. 

“You know, it would be better if the oven was inside.”

“I think that’s something they're working on actually.” 

You rest your head onto the arm of the daybed. “By the way, what do you do at lakes? You said you liked to visit them but I forgot to ask about that.”

“I just like to look out at them. It doesn’t have to be a lake though. A pond or beach works too.”

There’s a beach around here?!

“A-Aren't you worried about being attacked?” There were all sorts of dangerous things near water. Especially ponds! You shudder remembering an encounter you had with a frog. You just wanted to get a closer look at the tadpoles...

“We could be attacked in most places though, and I’m not exactly playing in the water.”

“Hmm, I think you’re just too friendly with danger!”

“Guess that makes two of us.”

You couldn't exactly argue with that. “I'm not as bad as you though.”

“Sure.”

“I'm not…” You stare at Bruno, legs crossed and looking effortly graceful as usual. He probably had no issue avoiding predators but all it took is one mistake

“Are you sure it’s okay?” You didn’t want anything bad to happen to him.

“I promise it really isn't dangerous. I’ll show you one day, if you'd like,” Bruno smiles reassuringly.

Your heart may have skipped a beat. “That--that actually sounds kinda nice.”

You and Bruno stay in the living space while waiting for the cake to finish baking. You do little talking before you encourage Bruno to fall asleep. Then you spend the rest of the time quietly keeping yourself busy around the house, making sure to keep an eye on the hourglass. When the top of it is finally empty, you go to wake up Bruno and are surprised when he starts moving before you even touch him.

“Did you actually sleep?”

“Somewhat. I’m a light sleeper.”

He did look a little more alert. “Well let's go get the cake!”

You run outside excited to see the result. You're already pulling it out once Bruno strolls outside. You then place it on top of the oven, but it seemed... off .

Bruno takes one look at it. “It doesn't look like it cooked properly.”

The cake didn't rise much at all, but the top looked burnt.

“I know. Darn…” you whine. You were sure it was hot enough! “Maybe it doesn't taste bad?”

You look at Bruno and his face says it all. 

“Fine, I’ll taste it myself then,” you sigh.

You run to go get a fork so you can grab a piece of the top and realize that the middle still seems raw. But It couldn't be that bad! However, the moment you put the food in your mouth, you regret it. The taste of burnt cake and soggy texture overrode anything else about it, but you force yourself to swallow nonetheless. 

You shudder and pout. What a waste.

“Guess you were right about it being hot,” Bruno says.

“Bruno!” You glare at him but he simply raises a brow and you’re sure you see a hint of a smirk! 

You groan, “Did I do something wrong...It definitely can’t be the oven though.” The ant you got it from prided themselves on their creations and reliability. 

You get so caught up in your thoughts, that you don’t realize that Bruno’s trying to get your attention until he lightly touches your shoulder.

“Huh?”

“I said there's always next time. Let's try again later into the season, okay?”

You couldn't stay mad at him, you weren't exactly mad in the first place. “You don't mind being awake again?”

“I’ll make sure to get enough sleep beforehand.”

“Still we should do some type of cooking at night to make up for it. It wouldn't really be cooking though.”

“What about ice cream?”

You perk up at that. “Ice cream in winter? Narancia has to be there for that for sure!”

#hurry up and kiss already gosh dangit #bruno buccellati x reader #bruno bucciarati x reader #bruno x reader #jjba #reader insert #Bruno Bucciarati #Bruno Buccellati

[early2000smovieimagines]

Being Paul Lahote’s imprint would include~

(Not my gif)(requested by anonymous)

- You’d first met Paul when you’d visited La Push with a few of your friends; he and some others from the pack showed up a little while after you. You’d been sitting on a towel talking with your friends when one of them glanced behind you for the third time in a row.

“Alright, What is it?”

“Nothing, nothing, just...this guys been looking at you ever since they got here.”

“Which guy?” 

- You turned your head and low and behold you locked eyes with the handsome Quileute boy. Unbeknownst to you the instant Paul's eyes met yours for the first time his whole world was turned upside down. The Earth shattered around him, galaxies crumbled, the entire universe was disrupted and all that was left was you and him.

 - Once you caught his gaze your eyes widened and you quickly turned back around. “You’re crazy if you think he is looking at me.”

“No, no he’s definitely looking at you.”

“Maybe he’s looking at you guys.”

“Well then we’ll prove he isn’t.” They picked up their volleyball and left you alone on your towel. You sighed, shaking your head and watching them run off before you looked for something to do.

“Hey there.” You whipped your head around to see the boy from before standing above you with a charming little smile. 

- Paul immediately introduced himself, asking if he could sit down with you and beginning a conversation. Paul’s obviously very ho-handsome, hes very...handsome, so it’s kind of exhilarating having him hanging on to every word you say and wanting to get to know you in the first place. 

- Time flew by while the two of you talked and soon enough your friends were ready to leave. Paul immediately invited you to stay for the bonfire him and his friends were having and you decided to accept. So your friends left and you continued spending time with the boy. 

- That night you and Paul went on a walk along the beach together and he told you everything. Obviously at first you were a little put off thinking he was crazy or, at the very least, making a strange joke. So you laugh awkwardly and agree to let him prove it to you “One of these days”. 

- You go on a few dates, spending more and more time together until he is able to fulfill his promise and prove he’s not insane. That’s not to say that seeing him turn into a giant wolf was not terrifying for you but it was obviously not terrifying enough to chase you off. 

*************************************************

- Your relationship is ...intense, to say the least. It’s, of course, not a completely conventional relationship since sixteen year old boys aren’t known for being hopelessly devoted to and ready to die for their girlfriends. Your friends are equally jealous of, happy for, and worried about you. 

- Let’s be honest, all of the wolves are clingy when it comes to their imprints. It’s rare that you’ll go a day without seeing them as they can’t stand to be apart from you for too long. Of course if you want space then they’ll obey your wishes but that’s not without difficulty especially if no one from the pack is able to hang out. 

 - Doing whatever their imprintee asks is sort of a part of their nature so ask and you shall (almost) always receive.

- He always wants to see you happy and smiling and you rarely aren’t especially when you’re with him. 

- You think you’ve seen jealous? You’ve seen nothing.

- Paul has enough anger issues as it is, mix that with his wolfy jealousy and protectiveness and you’ve got yourself an explosive cocktail. He’s damn near ready to tear a guy's throat out for just looking at you for too long, although, to be fair, it probably isn’t easy seeing your soulmate with another guy.

- Okay, on that note~ I know it’s sort of toxic and unrealistic to have the mindset that you can “change” someone but it’s kind of true with Paul although not in the “my vagina healed his anger issues” type of way. You make him want to be a better person, he feels an obligation to try and make himself more stable for you so in the end he does wind up learning to control himself more.

- The point is that Paul becomes an absolute sweetheart when it comes to you shocking all of the guys in the pack.

- I feel like Paul is one of the more feral members of the group so all the wolfish traits the boys usually have are dialed up when it comes to him. Loyalty, protectiveness, sex drive; all of it

- But speaking of protective instincts~ Paul is definitely one of the more protective members of the pack and that’s partly having to do with his anger issues.

- Of course he would never even dream of hurting you but... accidents happen; just look at Emily. And then again it doesn’t even have to be him whose hurting you, it could easily be another member of the pack who doesn’t know what they’re doing, or a stray blood sucker, or a regular person just like you; anything could happen to you but he’s determined to never let it happen.

- Hes always got his arms around you or touching you in some way.

- He definitely nuzzles your neck a lot, usually whenever he hugs you from behind.

- Cuddling is a big thing in your relationship and let’s face it, werewolves are the best cuddle buddy’s. Paul likes being the big spoon.

- He’d give you the shirt off his back if you even hint at being cold although you’re rarely anything but pleasantly warm since you’re basically standing beside your own walking heater. 

- TV dates, you just hang out at each others houses and watch TV together while you cuddle. 

- Having to remind him to put on a shirt before you leave the house together.

- There’s few he will share his food with but he will allow you to eat from his plate.

- Playing with each other’s hair.

 - Being close with the pack and the other imprints. You and the other girls hang out together while the boys go off and do crazy shit. 

- The pack joking that you have him whipped; he can’t even be mad because he knows it’s true. He just tells them to shut up with a barely concealed smile.

- Emily’s house becomes like a second home to you. 

- Bonfires on the beach.

- Listening to stories about the pack and the history of shapeshifters. 

- One summer Paul and you set up a hammock or build a treehouse together and from that day onward the two of you spend your days in them.

- Picnics.

- Makeout sessions.

- Tracing his tattoo.

- Piggyback rides.

- He uses you as a dumbbell, there’s no stopping it. You’re going to be bench pressed at least twice in your lifetime.

- You definitely have like an unofficial meeting spot where if you go there he’ll show up minutes later without any actual prompting. It’s somewhere in the woods.

- Getting little homemade gifts like dreamcatcher’s and necklaces.

- Rock climbing and cliff jumping with him.

- God, if you can bake, or cook...or both??? This boy devours everything you put in front of him and tells you how much he loves you between every mouthful.

- He loves whenever you wear his clothes, and you have a lot to pick from considering he never wears them himself.

- Soooo many compliments and ‘I love yous’

- Your relationship is pretty much perfect and neither of you could ever dream of a better partner.

#twilight #twilight wolf pack #paul lahote imagine #paul lahote headcanons #paul lahote headcanon #twilight imagine #twilight headcanons #imprints #twilight wolves #paul lahote

[ahkaahshi]

Okay it’s always been these two idk why my heart was wavering 😩 ☾ + 2 mini shot with BOKUROO okay but I feel like kuroo would be the one to suggest it just like one random movie night??? And bokuto is like omg I’m down 🤸‍♂️ honestly you’d be lying if you didn’t already think about it soooo 🤪🤪 light and happy threesome for the soul pls 🥺💕

prompt: ☾ #2 -> threesomes

roomies: bokuto koutarou and kuroo tetsurou

genre: smut (18+)

warning(s): explicit sexual content, threesome, penetrative sex, oral sex

my note to you: the request that started it all 🤸🏼‍♂️💕 I have no issue with admitting that I've thought about this many times before, as I should tbh. it’s a legendary combo 😌 the fact that you paused to think about kita for a moment tho after our convo tho 😂 glad to see your heart didn’t stray lol ty for this audrey ily queen ❤️

a roomie threesome with bokuto and kuroo [mini shot]

A long sigh leaves your mouth as the tall figure of one of your roommates passes in front of the television while he does yet another cartwheel. You’ve lost count of what number that is. “Aren’t you getting tired, yet, Kou?” you growl, (e/c) eyes flicking away from the screen so you can narrow them at him.

He shakes his head, golden gaze aglow with enthusiasm. “Nope!”

“I think (f/n) is, though, and wants you to take a seat,” Kuroo suggests, trying to get your point across for you.

Bokuto seems to get the hint this time, since he trots over to the couch and plops down on the other side of you, sandwiching you between the two of them. When you shoot him a questioning look, as if to ask him why he chose the couch clearly made for two over the armchair beside it, he gives a silent answer by pulling the blanket you and Kuroo are sharing over his lap. “I’m so bored,” he groans, flopping his head back against the cushions and staring up at the ceiling.

“Well, we can’t go anywhere because of all the snow, so we have to stay inside for tonight,” you remind him. A dry chuckle escaping from Kuroo’s mouth brings your attention over to him, and you ask, “What’s so funny?”

He shakes his head and avoids your gaze for a moment, as if contemplating whether he should say what’s really on his mind. “This whole situation is, like, the perfect setup for a threesome.”

You nearly choke on the water you’re taking a sip of before slamming the bottom of the cup down on the coaster and regarding your friend with a wide-eyed gaze. “W-What the hell did you just say?” you rasp, your throat suddenly dry.

“A threesome?!” Bokuto chirps with his normal exuberance, “I’m down!”

When their eager gazes fasten on you, the beating of your heart steadily increases, and the reality of the situation becomes more apparent. “Y-You’re being serious?” you breathe softly, gaze darting back and forth between theirs.

With a casual shrug, Kuroo turns sideways to face you and rests his arm along the top of the couch. “I mean, why not? Of course, if you’re not okay with it, we won’t do anything,” he elaborates. That hazel gaze of his is deceptively sweet as it draws you in closer and closer, making you nothing more than to have it scanning over your naked body instead while praises fall from his lips. It’s almost as if he can tell what’s running through your mind, since his hand moves to cup the side of your face, tracing delicate paths along your skin with each of his fingers.

“I’m okay with it,” you find yourself humming in a nearly inaudible tone.

A small smile spreads across his lips before he gently presses them against your own. The hand that’s not cradling your face moves beneath the blanket to your thigh, where you trap it in amongst your warm skin by pressing your legs together with anticipation. Not wanting to be left out, since Kuroo’s already eliciting gentle moans from you with the sensual way his tongue slides into your mouth while his fingers squeeze your supple skin, Bokuto nips at your neck before snaking his hands around your waist. They tug at the hem of your shirt, and you separate from Kuroo long enough to allow him the opportunity to take it off.

“(F/n),” Bokuto whines needily when your lips return to Kuroo’s once more. Wanting to prevent his emo mode from taking hold of him, you pull away from the man in front of you so you can turn around to face Bokuto when he pulls you into his lap and showers your lips with passionate kisses.

Within a matter of minutes, you’re completely undressed, bare body protected from the coolness in the apartment by the heat emanating from both Kuroo and Bokuto’s shirtless torsos pressed against your back and chest, respectively. Since you’re sitting in Bokuto’s lap, you instinctively push his shorts up his leg so you can rut against his muscular thigh, desperate to feel some relief in your painfully throbbing core. “I’ll take good care of you, okay?” he coos in your ear before pressing a kiss against your cheek. With that said, he pushes his pants down enough for his erection to spring free and grabs your hips to align your entrance with the tip of his dick.

A loud moan escapes your mouth as your jaw slackens at the sensation of his thick cock stretching your walls as he sinks deep into your pussy. Bokuto’s half-lidded eyes are intensely focused on watching you take him in, inch by inch, and Kuroo’s lips trailing open-mouthed kisses from the crook of your neck up to your ear help you relax. “You’re doing so well, baby,” he purrs, fingers dancing along the swell of your breasts, “Think you can take me in your mouth at the same time?”

You nod, eyes opening a tad so you can find his face and crane your neck to meet your lips with his. “Such a good girl,” Bokuto hums with approval once he’s bottomed out. Gently, he switches your position so that your hands and knees are pressed into the cushions of the couch while Kuroo stands up beside it, leaning over the armrest so you can suck him off. As Bokuto begins thrusting into you, unable to start slowly as a result of his enthusiasm, Kuroo tangles his fingers in your (h/l) hair to guide your mouth onto his cock.

As you swirl your tongue around the head before allowing it deeper into your mouth, Kuroo lets out a grunt of pleasure and furrows his dark eyebrows for a moment. Meanwhile, behind you, Bokuto speeds up his pace and uses one hand to keep a firm hold on your hips while the other snakes down your stomach so he can trace tight circles around your clit. His actions make you whimper needily as the heat you feel pooling in your stomach becomes more intense. You’re quickly becoming needier with each second that passes, grinding your hips against him in an attempt to strengthen all the sensations he’s filling you with.

Each moan and mewl that echoes from your throat sends pleasant vibrations coursing through Kuroo’s cock that make it challenging for him to control his pacing. Eventually, the feeling of Bokuto hitting the sweet spot inside of you with his dick while his fingers pleasure your sensitive bud pushes you over the edge, and you’re crying out loudly with ecstasy as your orgasm overcomes all your senses. Your walls fluttering lovingly around Bokuto reap a string of strained curse words from his mouth, and he pulls out of you to release onto your back while thrusting into his hand. Kuroo reaches his limit at the sight of your face in combination with the tingles your lewd sounds are sending up his erection, and it’s not long before you feel his hot seed spill into the back of your throat.

After taking a long swallow, you let your body flop onto the couch while Bokuto grabs tissues to clean off your back and Kuroo slides his pants on before sitting beside you. The two of them pick up your discarded clothes, and Bokuto maneuvers your legs so he can slide your panties back on as Kuroo pulls your shirt back over your head.

“You feeling okay?” your dark haired roommate asks when you slowly sit up.

You nod, though you’re vaguely aware of a dull ache down south. “That was fun,” you comment with a small smile, leaning your head against Bokuto’s shoulder and letting Kuroo place your legs across over his lap so he can massage your aching muscles.

“A lot more fun than doing cartwheels!” Bokuto pipes up, the goofy grin on his lips contagious, since it spreads to both yours and Kuroo’s mouths as well.

With a small chuckle, you mumble, “Oh, Kou…” as he pulls the blanket back over your legs to cover you up and throws his arms around your shoulders to hold you against his chest. It’s not long before you all fall back into a casual conversation while finishing up the movie that you were watching earlier, but, this time, with the three of you sitting in contentment, instead.

⭐︎ fran’s 600 milestone event! (reqs closed, interactions welcome!)

#fran writes hq!! #ahkaahshi gets wild #haikyuu!! #bokuto koutarou #kuroo tetsurou #haikyuu smut #x reader #reader insert #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu #hq!! #anime #manga #smut #bokuto koutarou x reader #kuroo tetsurou x reader #fran's 600 milestone event!! #fran writes requests!!

[kurowrites]

That Cursed Broken Heart - Chapter 6

Previous parts. AO3.

I guess this is the final part...

---

“Lan Zhan, will you stop pouting already?”

“Am not,” Lan Zhan insists, but it’s said so sulkily that Wei Ying cannot help but laugh and bump their shoulders together in mirth.

“You are! You are soooo grumpy right now. It’s not like I said I’ll never do it.”

Lan Zhan sighs and uses Wei Ying’s hand in his as leverage to pull Wei Ying back to his side as Wei Ying moves away.

They’ve been walking through this park, looking at the blossoming flowers for about thirty minutes now. It’s a popular spot at this time of the year; the park is renowned for its scenic views and well-maintained flower garden. But while they enjoy the sunlight and the lovely smell of flowers, they ignore the other visitors and are mostly absorbed in their own little world, discussing the future of their relationship.

Lan Zhan has been very insistent on going on regular dates, making plans to go to different restaurants and museums and parks; all the places he knows Wei Ying likes. Even the ones Lan Zhan himself doesn’t particularly like – at which point Wei Ying had to tell him that this works both ways, and bought tickets to a concert he never would’ve gone to on his own. It reminds Wei Ying a lot of the dates they went on when they first started dating in university, which is simultaneously very cute and extremely nerve-wracking. It makes Wei Ying think of the past, and all the things the future might bring.

Unlike their university-era counterparts, they are discussing the future of their relationship now. Today, the discussion has turned towards a topic that’s quickly becoming their favourite: Moving in together. Lan Zhan is very much in favour of it. Wei Ying… Wei Ying is nervous about it.

Now that he knows how seriously Lan Zhan takes this relationship, he knows what it means when they move in together. It won’t just be about staying together. It will be a first commitment on their path to marriage. Lan Zhan doesn’t say so, not in words, and he also never makes marriage a condition of their continued relationship, but Wei Ying knows now that it is what Lan Zhan ultimately wishes for. What he hopes Wei Ying will wish for too, one day.

Wei Ying doesn’t have any concerns about getting married as such. Oh no, quite to the contrary. The sheer thought of getting married to Lan Zhan, having Lan Zhan committed to him for the rest of their lives, it makes him all shivery and excited. To think that he would be the one that gets to keep Lan Zhan forever – oh, he can’t bear the thought! It’s too much! He might not make it to the actual marriage ceremony because the excitement will probably get him before that. The thought of marrying Lan Zhan makes him want to die because he simply cannot contain all these feelings in his body. He’s going to burst, and it will be ugly.  

But there’s more to be considered than idle daydreams of sharing a marriage bed and eating breakfast together for the rest of their lives. If he commits to Lan Zhan fully, if he moves in with him, he needs to be sure that this is it. That he won’t fall back into old patterns of behaviour, and that he too can provide for Lan Zhan. That their relationship is solid before they take that next step.

If he moved in only for it to end in disaster, he couldn’t take that. So he wants to keep living on his own for a little longer. Get his sea legs first, so to speak.

“Is it my uncle?” Lan Zhan asks quietly. “I know he was not entirely welcoming to you. I have talked to him many times. He knows I will not give you up. He has given me his word not to interfere again.”

That makes Wei Ying sigh, too. Facing Lan Qiren had been… not high on his list of priorities. But Lan Zhan insisted on a talk, determined to resolve the issue once and for all. And then proceeded to basically strong-arm Lan Qiren into giving his consent and support for their relationship. Wei Ying has to confess, he still starts giggling whenever he thinks about how quickly Lan Qiren caved when Lan Zhan bluntly leveraged his potential grandchildren. Apparently, Wei Ying is less of an evil than the certainty of never having grandchildren (blood-related or not). And so, Lan Qiren gave his blessing – reluctantly and not very graciously, but he gave it. Wei Ying and Lan Zhan are officially a couple again, but now with the label ‘SERIOUS’ attached in big letters.

(Oh, how pissed Jiang Cheng is about that. He is still trying to escape from the well-meaning matchmaking attempts of his aunties and he is not happy.)

They are on the same page, this time. But…

“No. Lan Zhan,” Wei Ying says. “I won’t say your uncle isn’t… uh. Well. You know. But… we probably should give it some time. After all that has happened.”

Lan Zhan is silent for a moment, clearly processing Wei Ying’s words.

“Is it so wrong to want to wake up next to you as often as I can?”

Wei Ying stumbles, but Lan Zhan’s free hand is already there, keeping him upright.

“Lan Zhan!” Wei Yin exclaims. “You can’t just say things like that! It’s dangerous!”

Instead of answering, Lan Zhan reels him in and presses a kiss to his forehead. Wei Ying closes his eyes. It’s nice to have Lan Zhan so close, once again. His warmth, his smell, his gentle gestures. The way Wei Ying feels when Lan Zhan holds him. Wei Ying missed it all so much.

“We lost a lot of time,” Lan Zhan replies. “You cannot blame me for wanting to be selfish for once.”

He presses Wei Ying tightly to his side and begins walking again, staring off somewhere into the distance, the beauty of the flowers around him lost to his eyes. Wei Ying waits silently, because he gets the feeling that Lan Zhan is trying to say something.

“When you left, I thought it was right for me to practice self-denial,” Lan Zhan starts. “That it was… noble. Now that you are here, now that I know how you felt when you left, I regret it. I do not want to lose you again. We do not know how much time we have been given. I cannot help but feel… impatient.”

Wei Ying feels himself break out into a smile. He lets his head drop onto Lan Zhan’s shoulder, feeling light and happy.

“Lan Zhan, ah, Lan Zhan,” he sighs. “If you keep this up, you will soon be rid of me. My heart can’t take it. Do you really want to kill your husband before you manage to actually marry him?”

“Nn,” says Lan Zhan, and squeezes Wei Ying tight.

Wei Ying laughs. “You see, not ideal. However, since I’m a very smart man and also a considerate boyfriend, I suggest… a compromise.” He grins up at Lan Zhan, a little proud of himself. “I will keep my current apartment and keep living there… but I’ll stay with you during the weekends. How do you like that, Lan Zhan? You can ply me with food and lazy mornings, and maybe one day I’ll decide I don’t reaaaally want to go home, and–”

He doesn’t get any further than that, because Lan Zhan reels him in and kisses him enthusiastically, not caring about the audience around them. Wei Ying is fine with that. He’s really, really fine with Lan Zhan’s enthusiastic response to Wei Ying’s hint that he’s willing to work on the idea of moving in together, and he’s really, really, really fine with Lan Zhan’s determined focus on convincing Wei Ying that this relationship is worth it.

He feels a little bad about making someone as calm and collected as Lan Zhan feel impatient and out of control. After all, it’s Wei Ying that caused it. But it’s also a huge relief for Wei Ying – to know that Lan Zhan has no doubts about being with Wei Ying. That he wants it, even if he has to work for it. That he wants to stay with Wei Ying. Forever, preferably. It’s a huge weight off Wei Ying’s shoulders, to be able to depend on Lan Zhan’s feelings so much.

He wants to be able to give Lan Zhan the same sense of security. He hopes that day will come soon.

“Mmmh, Lan Zhan,” he murmurs against Lan Zhan’s lips, once Lan Zhan lets him breathe again. “I want breakfast in bed. Do you think I deserve some breakfast in bed? Because I think I do.”

There’s a certain glint in Lan Zhan’s eyes that sparks something deep in Wei Ying’s belly, something hot and electrifying. He knows that look. Has craved for that look to return.

And he knows that Lan Zhan will probably convince him to move in full-time before long.

He doesn’t think he’ll mind losing that battle.

“Take me home,” he says, placing another hot kiss on Lan Zhan’s lips, on his cheeks. “I think I’ve had enough of parks and flowers for today.”

He reaches out and traces Lan Zhan’s cheekbone with his finger.

“I just want a cup of tea, and Lan Zhan all to myself. I guess it’s fine, to be selfish for once.”

The next moment, he’s whisked away, before he even has time to laugh.

---

The next morning, a key appears among Wei Ying’s things.

On the keychain is a metal figure of a white rabbit, sitting patiently.

(Wei Ying isn’t going to give that one back.)

#kuro writes #the untamed #wei wuxian #lan wangji #wangxian #mdzs #broken heart fic

[naivesilver]

I'm trying so hard to work out which of these fics could possibly be Pinocchio or August related and let me tell you...I am struggling with these vague and intriguing titles... how about 'fair folk' and 'fair enough' because I'm curious. AND also '28th of August' because i WILL be sad if that isn't an august fic

AHSJGGHAGGFDKJH first of all, thank you for the ask

Second, I regret to inform you that there are only two Pinocchio fics in that list and they’re at the very top because they’re the ones I’ve worked on most recently. Make of that what you will :^)

Ask me about one of my WIPs

Soooo let’s crack this open:

Fair enough - This one is the oldest of the three Word documents and it’s palpable from what it contains. There are, in fact, two fic incipits inside, one of which is a Sonic Hunger Games AU (who’d probably been stagnating there for a while when I last updated the file - very 2015 of me, I’d say) while the other is the sequel to this Barduil AU I never got around to finish.

I’m not sure of where I was going with the THG AU, or if I ever did more about it beside assigning characters to districts, but the Hobbit fic I had a vague plan for. Since the first installment was a Harry Potter/Triwizard Cup AU, I wanted the sequel to involve Bard and Thranduil meet again decades after their school years and pick things back up from where they’d left them. Don’t judge - these were still my teenage years, okay?

(You’re not getting a snippet of either, though. The Sonic one is in Italian and the other is in terrible, clunky English. I’m sparing you the trouble.)

Fair folk - I’D LOVE TO GET BACK TO THIS UGH basically it’s a Vecpio fic where Espio is a fae trying to lure a clueless Vector into giving up everything for him. I had everything set up - the pacing the atmosphere, even Charmy’s involvement (I’ve got that scene ready almost word for word) - but since the issues I’ve had with Vecpio fics last year I dropped most projects about that ship and this one in particular never went past the first vignette. Not saying I will never finish it, but who knows when it will happen or how much the result will be changed as a consequence of this.

Anyway, here’s a snippet! I liked the way I started this one, so I’m not ashamed of it:

There is a glint of recognition in the crocodile’s eyes, and he squares his shoulders, wary even as he steps closer. “Bloody hell. Do you go around scaring people like that all the time? You almost gave me a heart-attack.”

Espio very nearly smiles. Bravado is always a welcome diversion, particularly when it’s as flimsy a façade as it is now. “Sometimes.”

The man scoffs. He’s only a few strides away now, but still he doesn’t seem anymore unsettled that he was at first. He doesn’t sense anything wrong in the air, then, nor does he notice the ring of flowers grown around Espio’s feet, a perfect circle of snowdrop and hellebore.

That’s nothing new. They almost never notice – not until it’s too late, that is.

28th of August - Sadly, no relation to the dumbass man of the same name. You know how I said earlier that I’d had issues with Vecpio fics? This right here is the culprit - or well, one of the culprits.

Basically what happened was, since I’d written a Vector fic based on the IDW Sonic comic (and specifically the Zombot virus arc), I’d decided to do an Espio one at the end of that arc too. Except the pressure I put on myself to make it as “good” as the first one, a pretty bad mental health episode and general creative insecurity mixed poorly and I kept starting and abandoning the story because it didn’t live up to my expectations. There are about six or so versions scattered in my WIP folder, with progressively more random titles as I tried to trick myself into not stressing over it any longer.

It took me a four month break from Vecpio fics and almost every other kind of writing, @freenklin-labby being the most supportive creature in existence and some big priority reassessment for me to be able to publish the final version. It was WAY shorter than this WIP and a few of the others, but it coming out is a miracle on its own. And this is a good chance to show off where I started, now that this fucker doesn’t scare me any longer.

So here you are:

It’s not that he fears what he might find inside. He can see it from where he stands already, their stuff strewn carelessly on the floor while Charmy picks his way through it, looking for who knows what among the rubble. And it’s not the smell, either, the damp, rotten stench that Espio remembers from all the other buildings he helped fix, filling every nook and cranny and leaving a lingering aftertaste on his tongue.

Neither would be enough to deter him, on their own. He’s many things, and not a lot of them good, as he’s come to realize while they were on the run, but he’s no coward. He won’t be scared off by the havoc Eggman’s scheme left behind – even if the zombots were very thorough in their mindless fury, it seems. Even their TV, pretty banged up as it already was, looks as though it has been punched through. The floor is littered with sharp pieces of glass from the broken screen, enough that he’d tell Charmy to be careful where he puts his feet, were the kid not flying up and about already.

No, it’s the door that’s troubling him. Or, well, lack thereof: the hinges are still there, already beginning to rust after being exposed to the elements for so long, but there’s no trace of the door itself. Not even a splinter.

#bewilderedmoth #you know I thought you'd had enough of my august ideas :^) #ask meme #sonic #the hobbit

[fallenrepublick]

Uh hi XD this is my first time asking for an x reader but uh here it goes. Soooo I'm wondering if you can write a Savage Opress x reader where our reader tags along with him throughout all his travels and is in love with him and patches him up after all the fights but after he finds Maul she feels left out and decides to be a dink and get herself captured by pirates and Savage because a fluffy protector even with his more animal instincts and goes and saves her and adorable fluff? Pretty please

Wow, thank you for giving me the great honor of being your first request! I’m very not good at fluff, but I did my best just for you! Enjoy!

You weren’t particularly vocal about your feelings. Not that it had ever really mattered one way or another, since the man you had been traveling with for years now seemed to favor action over spoken word. Savage Opress was a “brute force” sort of man, having been given unmatched physical ability thanks to the witchcraft of Mother Talzin on Dathomir. Even still, he often returned to his ship limping or holding his side after an encounter with a particularly skilled combatant, leading you to force him to sit and allowing you to bandage him with gentle hands, a practice you had developed during your travels.

He was seen as a monster everywhere he went, height pushing past the seven-foot mark, and a generally annoyed scowl plastered on his face constantly. Yet, when you looked at him, the first things that came to mind were not “monster” or “terrorist.” Instead, you saw a side that not many had the pleasure or privilege to experience. He often came to you with his worries and fears, even going so far as to hold you close when his past came back to haunt him.

“They called me monster,” he said to you once when you were taking care of a particularly nasty bruise that spanned the length of his ribcage. “Is that what I have become?”

You looked up at him, his face scrunched up, contemplating the words. “I’ve never thought of you that way,” you said, putting down the bandage for a moment and holding on to his wrist. “They don’t know you. I do.”

His face became more contorted. “And what do you know? All I am is violence and hatred. There is nothing else.”

“If that were true, I wouldn’t be here.” You smiled at him, but held to your firm tone. “You’ve shown me nothing but kindness the whole time I’ve been here. I don’t see a monster when I look at you. I see… someone who was hurt. A powerful, determined, sun-kissed Zabrak that will do all that he must for who he cares about.”

You smiled when a low chuckle sounded from his chest. “Sun-kissed?”

“Your skin,” you said, prodding an area of his arm not covered by tattoos or bandages. “It reminds me of sunlight.”

But those moments seemed to be gone now. Of course, you knew Savage had been given his strength for a purpose, initially to be an undercover apprentice to Dooku, and eventually to find his brother, Maul, who had been assumed dead for an upwards of twelve years. But once he was found, you weren’t sure what would happen. At first, you had thought things would go back to normal, albeit with a new member of the party helping to plot for revenge and a takeover of various people who would prove useful to the Sith lords. Instead, Savage had been pulled away from you, trading quiet moments of intimate conversation for being caught up in his extremist brother’s delusions of grandeur.

The most interaction you’d had with Savage for the past few months was periodic glances and small smiles passed between you two as Maul mapped out every movement he was forcing Savage to carry out. Even in times when you believed you could catch him alone, you’d find that his brother was already there, training him or discussing alternatives to existing plans. When you walked in, Savage saw you and softened his glance, but Maul only hardened, his eyes piercing into yours.

“Yes?” he would ask coldly, as if you were intruding on anything actually important. Savage would look down, the normally dominant creature becoming a mere tool for his new master to use at his disposal. Nevermind that he was the older sibling.

Your world was rocked to its core. This intruder into your life had taken from you the one thing that made all of this traveling and uprooting worthwhile.

Eventually, Maul had dragged you two to the surface of Florrum, gathering what pirate followers he could to take over the rest of the Weequay gang. The moment your ship landed on the planet, the siege began.

“Stay here,” Savage said to you before disembarking. “I’ll be back for you.”

He left before you could say a word. You scowled and crossed your arms in front of your chest.

“Like hell I will. You’re not going to appreciate me? Fine. See what happens.” You waited a few moments before exiting the ship yourself, sneaking around the side to ensure that Savage didn’t see you, dust kicking up from the bare ground around your boots.

Blaster shots in the distance covered your hiding spots and burying any noise you made into obscurity. But of course, not long into your little adventure, a band of Weequay blocked your path, blasters raised up to your face. Your arms raised for insurance that they wouldn’t assume you were armed and shoot you before you had time to carry out your pseudo-revenge.

“Well well well,” one of the pirates grinned, spikes from his face moving up and down with his jaw. “What do we have here? A little loth cat poking her nose around in our business?”

Yet another Weequay came closer to you and poked your arm with the blaster. “Quite a lovely one aren’tcha? Might there be a person who’d pay a pretty price for your pretty head?”

You released a short sigh and looked at the sky. Seriously? But, you complied with their presses, certain that you’d get out one way or another. Not that you wanted to, exactly.

“There might be,” you shrugged, knowing they’d take the bait. And with such an affirmation, the pirates pulled at both of your arms, leading you back to their base.

The room you found yourself in was musty, a trace of mildew lingering in the air. It was fairly empty, a chair in the middle for you to be tied up in, but otherwise sound reverberated off the blank metal walls fiercely. It was perfect. The only thing you didn’t particularly like was the gag tied around your mouth, which also smelled like mildew.

The blaster sounds stopped. Cheering followed the silence, and the door opened. Hondo.

“How nice to see you, little bird!” he called out cheerily, spreading his arms as if inviting in a group hug. He snapped his fingers and the gag around your mouth was pulled down. “Now that the Jedi and those horned gentlemen are gone, we may proceed with introductions. I am Hondo Ohnaka, leader of this merry band of pirates! And you are?”

“They’re gone? All of them?” You were more incredulous than you thought you would be. You couldn’t believe Savage would just abandon you, not realizing you were gone.

“Er, yes,” Hondo hesitated. “They left a few moments ago. Why would it matter?”

You opened your mouth, about to insist that it didn’t, before sharp cries of pain echoed from the hallway. You could hear a deep voice crying out, “Where is she?!” in the distance.

Hondo whipped around towards the sounds. “And that would be my cue,” he said, backing away from the room and running through the doors.

Savage stomped in, one of the pirates necks held in his powerful grasp. His eyes widened at the state you were in.

“You!” He threw the pirate to the side and rushed to your side, working at the straps holding down your arms. “What did you think you were doing?! I told you to stay with the ship!”

Once you were released, you stood up, walking away from where he knelt. “Oh yeah? Were you there to make sure I did? Are you ever here to make sure of anything?”

He stood and tried to follow you. “What do you mean? I’ve been ensuring your safety for so long. No harm has come to you until now.”

“But that’s just the issue!” You turned to face him, tears welling up in your eyes. “It’s not about my safety, Savage! It never has been. In fact, I feel less safe now! All you do is follow your brother’s orders, carrying out his crazy plans that could get you killed! I don’t ever see you! The only conversation we’ve had until just now has been, ‘Brother this’ and ‘Brother that.’ ‘My Master this’ and ‘My Master that.’ It’s all you seem to care about! But what about me, Savage? What about-”

You couldn’t finish before he came to you and pulled you into his arms, his strength holding you close, yet being gentle enough not to hurt you. He smelled faintly of metal, but with a touch of honey. He was so… warm. Your hands were scrunched up in front of you and you rested your head on his chest, feeling the beating of his hearts.

“My only desire”,” he began, slightly tightening his hold on you. “Was that you would be safe. I follow my brother’s orders, because I fear the worst for you. I promise I did not know-”

You lifted your head to meet his gaze, cutting off his words of reassurance. “Savage…” you whispered, hoping no one else was around to hear you. “I love you.”

Clearly taken aback, he released you with widened eyes and mouth agape. “You… you love me?”

You smiled at him and nodded, waiting for his reaction. This wasn’t exactly how you had planned to let him know, but it was something. And thankfully enough, this was one of the few moments where you were finally alone.

He was suddenly beaming, his hands grasping your shoulders, almost covering your biceps. “I’d never imagined!” He was almost yelling now, the excitement taking full hold, and his voice made the whole room shake. “I only thought I was going mad! But it’s true! It’s amazing... because I love you as well!”

Your smile grew wider and he took you in his arms once again, almost lifting you off the floor this time. “We must go back to the ship,” he said to you, still pressing you against his chest. “I’m sure you don’t want to be here a moment longer!”

Before you had any time to respond, he knelt down and bent you over his shoulder, holding on to your legs as he walked back to the ship, a little more of a bounce in his step than usual.

#savage opress x reader #savage x reader #star wars x reader #star wars x you #i tried guys

[rwbyvein]

Firen Lhain: Chapter 402: Biting Cold

Jaune drew his bow and lined up the target when Nora pressed up against him. "Isn't that like super awkward?" Nora asked, and Jaune glared at her. Seeing her not get the message he then glared at Ren. Ren covered Nora's mouth and pulled her away. Jaune then heard Ruby make some noise, like a squelched yelp, and turned his eyes to glare at her. She quickly covered her mouth. Jaune breathed in and out and then half in before lining up the shot again. He loosed, and struck down the deer. He then ran towards it with his knife drawn if he needed to finish it off, but it was dead. He then turned to glare at his team, putting away his knife.

"Because," Nora quickly stated, "you're a deer, and it's a deer, and isn't that awkward?!"

"One, I'm not a deer," Jaune stated, "I'm a man, a Faunus. Even still I'm not some white-tail, I am a caribou."

"But that's LIKE a deer." Nora stated.

"Nature doesn't care about that!" He then glared deeply at Nora, "Eagles eat other birds all the time."

Nora than gasped, "I eat chicken!"

"There's no way I'm going to eat dog!" Ruby exclaimed.

"That is a different issue." Jaune stated as he stepped on his longbow to unstring it.

* * *

Jaune carried the dead deer on his shoulders as they approached their campsite.

"I'm a cannibal!" Nora woefully cried.

"I'm NOT!" Ruby proudly stated.

"None of us are cannibals." Jaune said.

"Says the cannibal." Ruby chided. Jaune turned and Ruby bumped into him. When she recovered she looked up at him and he made a biting motion towards her. She cowered for a moment. "Wait, I'm a wolf!" she replied and gave playbites to Jaune's left arm. He pulled his arm away and then wrapped it around her, pulling her into a hug.

"Deer actually have a powerful bite." Jaune replied.

"Pfft." Ruby uttered.

"I thought you were a caribou." Nora stated.

"I'm not afraid to hug you, too." Jaune said to her, "I've got two arms."

"And then who would carry the deer?" Ren asked.

Jaune looked back when he heard something, and it was Ruby's tail wagging so hard he was afraid she was going to hurt it, and he let go of her. He then pet her on the head before turning back on the path to the campsite.

* * *

Ruby, Nora, and Ren sat around as Jaune skinned the deer.

"Sooo?," Nora asked, "why do we need to pay for food, can't Jaune just catch everything for us?"

"Most game is too lean to properly feed us." Ren stated.

"And," Jaune said without looking up, "I can't be expected to always catch something."

"Pfft." Nora said to him.

"I'll PFFFT you." Jaune replied.

"Big talk!.." Nora shouted, before Jaune cut her off.

"For a cannibal!" Jaune replied, and Nora started crying.

"I'm a cannibal!" Nora exclaimed.

"No, we're not!" Jaune shouted.

"We are not." Ren added.

"Wait?" Ruby asked, "Ren's a Faunus, too, right?"

"Indeed?" Ren asked.

"Soooo?" Ruby asked.

"Viper." Ren stated, "Pit Viper, to be precise."

"And... that means?.." Ruby asked.

"I can, see, of a sort - heat left by warmer animals."

"Liiike?" Ruby asked.

"Mammals of all sorts." Ren stated. He then pointed to the tiny pits on his face. "These allow me to sense light emitted from heat."

"Light?" Ruby asked, "I'm glowing."

"In a sense." Ren stated, "Though few animals can see it."

"How are wolves supposed to hunt if we're glowing?!" Ruby asked.

"Again," Ren said with a smile, "few creatures can see it."

"Meaning Ren is super special!" Nora added.

"In... a sense... I suppose..." Ren added, "Though all Faunus are special in their own way, along with every Human."

"pffft." Nora exclaimed. Ren glared at her and she calmed down.

* * *

The chauffeuse opened the door and helped Weiss to her feet. "I'll take that." she tried to say as she reached for Weiss' left hip, and Weiss clutched the hilt of her rapier, using her other hand to protect it. The women bowed her head forward, "I am so terribly sorry, Ms. Schnee, but your father..." she voiced, and Weiss sighed. The chauffeuse reached forward once again and Weiss caught her hand.

"I'm terribly sorry," Weiss voiced, "but I insist on holding on to my rapier."

"You're father insists that you will not need it." the chauffeuse nervously voiced.

"I," Weiss said to her, "will give you a choice." and the chauffeuse nervously looked up at her before quickly looking back down, "Lie to my father, or let me argue with Father on your behalf." The chauffeuse, head still down, nervously looked about. "What is your name?" Weiss asked.

"I beg your pardon, but Wilhelmina..." she voiced.

"Full name?" Weiss asked, and Wilhelmina looked her in the eyes with a shocked look before looking back down.

"Wilhelmina Whittmoore." she nervously voiced.

"I will make sure Father well knows it was my own decision to keep my rapier."

"Yes, Ms." Wilhelmina replied. Weiss stepped away and Wilhelmina closed the door.

* * *

"Klein?" Weiss asked.

"Weiss?" he quietly asked.

"I have... some things... to say to Father."

"I will inform him right away." Klein stated, and bowed.

* * *

Klein opened the door and stepped to the side, bowing. Weiss walked in, and Klein closed the door. "Father." she bitingly said to him.

"Weiss?" Jacques said with faux eagerness, and stood up from his desk, "It's so good to see you... home..."

"You know well enough how much I enjoy time," Weiss spitefully said to him, "with our family."

"It's not safe..." Jacques tried to say.

"I know it's not safe," Weiss said to him, "but you still INSISTED I come home."

"You saw what happened, didn't you?" Jacques asked, "The whole world blames Atlas for it."

"No, they do not. Weiss said, "At least not until Atlas withdraws from the rest of the world in the aftermath, leaving no one to answer the questions."

"Are you somehow claiming that you would be fine in Vale?!" Jacques exclaimed, "After what happened?"

"My.," Weiss voiced, and momentarily paused, "colleagues, are among the finest Huntsmen and Huntresses on Remnant." Weiss replied.

"Yes, your COLLEAGUES" Jacques said to her, "Two of which are jays from Patch, while the rest do not seem to have any history at all... aside from Ms. Nikos." Jacques said, and developed a wicked smile. Weiss wondered if that was truly how she had looked... how she thought. Was that truly how she acted when she first saw Pyrrha. "You did wonderfully in fostering a friendship with her."

Weiss held her hand over her mouth to cover a sharp intake of air. That was, indeed, how she had acted, "Wait?" Weiss asked, "I understand what happened with Blake, Nora, and Ren, but... Jaune?.."

"Oh!?" her father angrily exclaimed, "You didn't know?! I haven't been able to find any trace of them at all."

"Family?.." Weiss asked, and Jacques nodded.

"Outside of Vale." Jacques bitingly stated, "Dirt farmers. You associated with dirt farmers?!"

"You've never seen him in action." Weiss stated.

"Oh, but I did!" her father replied, "All of Remnant saw that sorry excuse for a team, other than Ms. Nikos, afterall."

"I honestly did not think you cared about such things..." Weiss voiced.

"I don't care about your childhood fantasy of playing the heroine at all." Jacques said to her, "But I do care about whom you associate with. Which, again, wonderful job on the young Ms. Nikos."

"Wait?" Weiss questioned him, "Did you not find - the school - Jaune came from?"

"And if I cannot," Jacques said to her, "I doubt that school of yours could find them, either. What do you think will happen when he's discovered?!" Jacques asked, "And everyone he knows gets pulled down with him?!" Weiss quietly looked down. "It's lucky I was able to get you out when I did."

"Luck?" Weiss asked, "Is that what you thought it was?"

"What would you call it?" Jacques asked.

"We both know what I would call it, Father." Weiss said to him, and turned back towards the door. Her skin was now a deep, dark blue.

"Yes, yes." Jacques replied, "Go back to your room to sulk. Just be sure to go straight to your room, we don't want too many servants to see you like that. Though, I certainly pay them enough to look the other way."

Weiss quietly walked to the door and opened it up. "Oh," she said without looking back, "while I was while away my days here, I am still a Huntress." she said, with her left hand on her rapier's hilt.

"Still playing with that toy?" Jacques asked. Weiss stepped forward and closed the door behind her. She fell back into it, tears pouring down her cheeks and onto the ground.

"Let's get you settled in." Klein said, and she looked at him, wiping the tears away. When she focused, she saw him carrying a covered silver tray.

"Is that?.." Weiss asked, eyes starting to dry up.

"I know how much you enjoy them." Klein said other. She let out a weak smile, and some of her dark blue flush was being replaced with light. She wiped her eyes and did her best to stand upright, like a fine, upstanding Atlasian lady.

#rwby #firen lhain #faunus au #pollinated knight